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charliemwrites · 4 months

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Woof, grrr, woof

Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…

“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.

The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.

It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.

The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.

“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.

You shift. “Thank you.”

“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”

“Raw diet?”

“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”

You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.

“Raw it is,” you muse.

He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.

You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.

“How do you feel about pink…?”

Snort.

“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”

A long whine.

“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”

The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.

“S’what you get, dummy.”

Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.

“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”

You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.

The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”

You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.

“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.

The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.

“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”

You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.

Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.

“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”

You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.

“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”

He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.

You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.

As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.

Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.

“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”

His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.

“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.

He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.

“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”

It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.

“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”

You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.

“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic

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jasperyourmutt · 2 months

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Before we leave the house, he asks me to sit, and I do, of course. He clips on my collar and leash, rewarding me with an edible, and we leave-

We’re meeting with his friends, I know that much. The whole drive there his hand is on my thigh, squeezing it, telling me that we’re going to have so much fun. By the time we pull up to the house, I’m pleasantly high, my anxious nerves somewhat receding. He ruffles my hair, pulls me in by the collar and kisses me; a deep, passionate, possessive kiss. Without a word, we head inside. I know better than to ask questions- I trust him, and I wouldn’t get any answers anyways.

He holds the leash and I follow him, shyly sticking to his side as we enter. There’s several people about, laughing, talking, drinking. Some stop as we enter, cheering, coming up to greet him, and then me. My face burns hot, my puppy ears going back shyly as they begin to study and admire me. Some come up and pat my head, one grabs my ass and tugs on my tail, another putting a hand under my shirt and feeling the bare skin of my chest. I’m still clinging to his arm, unable to form words.

“He’s my very good boy, I’ve trained him well. He’s such an eager pup, isn’t that right?” He smiles to me, petting my head. I’m comforted by this, and I nod, letting out a small woof.

“So timid- he’s not usually like this, c’mon pup, let’s show them how smart you are,” he steps away from me and tugs off my shirt, then my trousers, leaving my in my briefs. A small circle has formed around us now, calling me handsome, cute, pretty boy, as he tugs on my leash. I’m nervous being so exposed around all these strangers, but I keep my eyes on him. I’m already aroused, as I know what he has in store for me, and I can feel the wetness forming between my legs.

“Sit, puppy,” and I do, eagerly getting to my knees, looking up at him with obedience. Any word he says is law to me- I could never disobey. Would never disobey. I wait for the next command, focused completely on him.

“Good dog. Now, open wide.”

#hi this is a fuckin wet dream I had last night and I woke up in a sweat #show me off I am so handsome and pretty??#also so shy. but I will do just about anything if you tell me I’m soooo good #rrrufffffffff #whhhhining #jasperbarks #:3 #ftm puppy #t4t puppy #puppy sub

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vampcubus · 9 months

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Not me thinking about Muzan and the Upper Moons being put in collars and leashes, nope. Nooooo, siree, nope. Definitely not. I'm a very bad liar-

LATE ANSWER BUT I AM FINALLY READY TO DIVE INTO THIS. just short headcanons for now cus i'm not tryna get too carried away jbdajhsd.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : muzan, akaza, kokushibo, douma, and gyokko.

𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐉𝐈

— Muzan thinks the collar is degrading so naturally, he is not too thrilled or receptive to your begging at first. But he's a slave to his own curiosity, so after giving it some thought, he'll let you collar him.

— It is as immensely humiliating as he suspected, hearing the dangly loop where the lead would attach to jingle as he moved. You don't use a leash yet, wanting him to get comfortable with his collar first. He doesn't understand the appeal until you start tugging him around by it, hooking your finger through it to drag him where you want him, whether that be between your legs or otherwise, he's suddenly very pliant.

— You finally take that leap and attach a lead to his sleek black collar, bedazzled with red crystals to match his eyes- the same eyes that bore into you so intensely as you wrap the lead around your wrist several times, drawing him close.

"Such a pretty pet you make," you purr, and something in him purrs back, dark lashes fluttering.

— It's definitely a bedroom-only thing for him though. He has a reputation to uphold afterall. That also means he's getting hard the moment you go to fasten it around his neck ❤︎

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐀

— Akaza takes to his collar so easily, smitten with how it feels around his pretty neck the moment you clip it on. He finds it comforting and likes to wear it as often as possible, as a reminder that he is irrevocably yours even when you're apart.

— He'd probably get so attached to it that he'd get anxious if you tried to remove it, instantly rushing to apologize, thinking he's done something wrong and you're punishing him. He gets a little sick to his stomach at the thought of being a bad pet, or bad in general.

— And he'd love to be leashed! it puts less pressure on him not to suddenly jerk away or disobey you on accident, because the lead is there to stop him from going too far.

— Just imagine being on your back with him rutting into you desperately, and then usinf the leash to pull him down to your lips, smothering his moans against your lips. Purrr.

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐀

—Douma will try just about anything, and won't bat an eye if you confess you want to put a collar on him. He is a bit picky though, so make sure it's a nice one, perhaps with pretty dangly things or gems to compliment his eyes.

— I have this vivid image of him lifting his hair out of the way as you attach the collar around his neck, those rainbow-colored eyes fixated on your facial expressions, searching for your approval. And when he finds it, he's already purring. He'll gladly show it off too, posing and admiring himself in the mirror.

— He likes it even more when you tug him around by it, whether that be by a lead or just hooking your finger through it and yanking him forward. He's a brat sometimes so sometimes you have to be rough with him, and he likes it, so don't worry about hurting him (that turns him on anyway ❤︎)

𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐎

— NOW HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT PLS!! Kokushibo likes to be collared but won't admit it. In fact, he'll pretend he's completely indifferent to it. Beneath the surface though, it feels more right than he ever imagined, to be marked as yours in such a way.

— He's another one I could see having a hard time parting with his collar, which is the biggest clue you'll get from him that he likes it. Just imagining reaching for the clasp when he's being particularly stubborn and his hand slaps over it, all six pairs of eyes wide with panic.

"Don't take it off, please..." he'd mumble, the slightest of blushes gracing his usually stoic face.

— As for leashes... he might be a little offended that you think he'd need one, he has impeccible control of his body and only moves it when you say afterall.

— He will, however, entertain it. Though you hardly need to yank him around at all, it's still very hot to see it moving along with him, especially if you get a chain, cus you hear it jingle with every thrust.

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎

— Gyokko will let you put a collar on him, but he's very picky about the appearance of it. Seriously you'll have to take him with you when you get one so he can pick one out, or let him ramble on about what he wants and get it custom made.

—I think he'd like to have multiple ones, so he can switch them out as he pleases. As for fucking him with it on, he's more easily-flustered than usual, getting red in the face when you boss him around and tug on it.

— Insists on getting matching leashes for each of his collars because he's painfully particular about the small details, but at least he's letting you leash him in the first place right?

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #muzan kibutsuji x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo x reader #douma x reader #gyokko x reader #sub muzan #sub akaza #doma x reader #sub douma #sub kokushibo #sub gyokko #dom!reader #dom reader #sub kny #sub!kny #n/sfw

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kaminocasey · 1 year

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Must Love Massiffs

Summary: You meet an unexpected person at the park who happens to have a massiff just like you.

Pairing: Sergeant Hound x GN!Reader

WC: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Name calling.

A/N: If you can't tell, I got this idea from the romcom "Must Love Dogs" starring Diane Lane and John Cusack lol. I'm a diehard romantic. Always. Anyway, I'd not written anything for Hound yet, so here we are! <3

Your day hadn’t started off well. First, you got let go from your job at the bank that you had worked at for the last six years. Then, you spilled your coffee all over your new leather seats of your speeder. And finally, your massiff, Zio, had gotten out and ran down your street toward the park so now, you’re chasing after her trying to make sure she doesn’t scare someone or get run over.

A great fucking day, right? Just the absolute best. What next?

“Zio!” You call out, losing her out of your sight.

“This fucking massiff.” You grumble. “I knew I should have taken the lazy tooka home…”

You grumble, but you love Zio with your entire heart. Normally, she’d wait for you to put her leash on, so the fact that she ran out the door like that kind of worries you.

“WOAH! DOWN BOY!” You hear someone in the park shout. “DOWN GRIZZER!”

You turn around and start running immediately, seeing Zio sniffing out another excited massiff and his Coruscant Guard owner.

“Zio, down!” You yell, a little afraid that this guy could hurt Zio or even arrest you.

You really didn’t know much about the Coruscant Guard other than they were basically glorified detectives and worked closely with the chancellor, senate, and Jedi. People you didn’t really care much for. “Do you mind?” The clone snaps at you in a rude, modulated voice. “Don’t you know what a leash is?”

You glare at him, pulling Zio back toward you, leashing her. “Obviously that’s what I was trying to do, thanks.” “This is a leash-only park.” The Corrie tells you, ignoring your comment.

“Yeah, I know, asshole.” You finally get her to sit. “She ran out and I’ve been chasing her for six blocks. You gonna arrest me or something? Because if not, I’ve got places to be.”

You get a look at his intricately decorated helmet. It’s different from any Corrie helmet you’ve ever seen. It actually looks really cool, but you’re not gonna tell this asshole that. It has grey and white jags with a red V that goes down over the visor from the top. It’s interesting. But unfortunately, the helmet belongs to a dick.

“Okay, great.” You nod when he says nothing, walking Zio away. “Let’s go, Zio.”

When you get to the edge of the park and let Zio do her business there, you look back at the Corrie and he’s still watching you with a tilted head. Whatever. You turn back around and then head home once Zio is done.

“You’re rotten, you know that?” You talk to her, shaking your head.

She looks back at you slightly, clearly pleased with herself.

“Sorry, girl. It’s been a long day…” You sigh.

When you get home, you let Zio off the leash and feed her dinner then go and sit down on the couch.

Now what? Job hunting… that’s what.

When Zio is done scarfing down her dinner, she comes and lays on the couch with you, putting her head on your lap, sweetly, as you search the holonet for the help wanted ads.

“It’s impossible to stay upset with you, you know that?” You pet her scaly skin and she rolls over so you can rub her belly. “I think you do actually know that.”

The next day, on your walk with Zio you can’t help but wonder if that Corrie from yesterday will be there. Not that you particularly care, you just want to steer clear of him.

You sit down on the park bench, pulling out your book after you make sure to clip Zio to the bench.

“Zio, sit.” You tell her.

She does and you give her a treat, patting her on the head and then open your book. While you read a couple chapters of your book, she lays at your feet, enjoying the warm Coruscant sun on her scaly skin.

“Good girl.” You pat her again and then go back to your book.

“Um, excuse me.” You hear a familiar voice that you were really hoping to not hear.

This time the voice wasn’t modulated, though. With a roll of your eyes, you sit your book down and look up at the Corrie. Except you were expecting a regular looking clone. Not an incredibly handsome bearded one with longer blond highlighted hair that’s pulled back out of his face.

To say you're stunned is an understatement. You’re practically speechless and you know your jaw must be on the ground.

“Hi.” He smiles. “We met yesterday?”

You look down at his massiff, you think his name was Grizzer, he’s got on his leash. Grizzer sniffs at Zio, who seems uninterested today. Maybe she was unimpressed after yesterday.

“I remember. Are you here to arrest me today?” You look up at him with a straight face.

“Actually, I came to bring you this.” He offers you a cup of caf. “We got off on the wrong foot.”

“Yeah, you were a bit of an asshole.” You nod.

“I was… I’m sorry.” He continues to hold the caf out for you. “It was a bit of a rough day yesterday.”

“Yeah, me too…” You take the cup from him and scoot down the bench a bit as a way of asking him to sit. “Sorry about that.”

He nods and sits a little bit away from you, giving you space, and clips Grizzer to the bench. Zio sits up again, staring at Grizzer and the Corrie, still deciding if they’re a threat.

“No uh, helmet today?” You ask him, taking a sip of the caf, which is black.

You reach into your bag for a few sweetener packets and then put the empty packets into your jacket pocket to throw away at home.

“Sorry, I didn’t know how you took it.” The Corrie apologizes.

“No worries. I always keep sweetener packets on me for when strangers offer me caf.” You smile finally.

“Really?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No.” You chuckle.

He lets out a laugh, which you unfortunately can’t help but notice is nice and makes you smile a bit more.

“But yeah, no helmet today. I was um… hoping I’d run into you today and I didn’t want you to see me as a threat.” He admits.

Oh. “That’s very… thoughtful.” You nod.

He pats Grizzer on the head and then looks at you again. “I’m Hound.”

You tell him your name and he smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you. Again, that is.”

“Likewise. And this is Grizzer?” You nod at the massiff which is still sitting with his tongue hanging out, still watching Zio.

“Yeah. My good ol’ boy.” He rubs Grizzer’s head again. “Zio, right?”

You nod, touched that he remembered her name. “Yeah.”

“Well, it’s really good to meet you both.” He grins.

You both sit there and sip your caf in comfortable silence, watching as your massiffs both lay back down, not missing that they’re pointed toward each other.

“Is it okay if I ask why you had a rough day?” Hound asks after a while.

“Oh… I lost my job… and then spilled caf in my speeder… and then this brat got out.” You nod down at Zio before looking at him again.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He tells you.

You can tell he’s genuinely sorry. You shrug, though.

“I’ll figure it out.” You look out at the park.

“What did you do?” He asks.

“I worked at a bank as a teller for the last six years.” You sigh. “It wasn’t the greatest job in the entire world, but I’m fluent in many languages and I enjoyed seeing different people every day, you know?”

“Well… um… I know that my commander was looking to hire a receptionist for the chancellor.” Hound tells you. “If that’s something you’d be interested in?”

It’s sweet that he’s thinking of you like this, but you hate Palpatine. The man is a creep and gives you extremely bad vibes. Anytime you see him on the news, you can’t help but think that he looks like he’d be a villain in a movie.

“Yeah, no. I hate that guy.” You smile. “But thank you… seriously.”

“So do we.” Hound shrugs. “Hate him, that is…”

You admire his honesty. You’d not dealt with many clones so you don’t have much to compare him to, but you’re surprised you’re enjoying Hound’s company.

“He doesn’t care about the clones… just wants us to win his war.” Hound finishes his coffee and looks down at Grizzer.

Your heart breaks for him, this man you don’t really know. Him and the other clones. You’re not ignorant. You know that people don’t treat them like the human being that they are. It’s not right.

“Well, I better get home. I have to get cracking on the job hunting.” You tell him, not making a move to get up.

You don’t exactly want to leave, but you really do have a bit of a busy day planned.

“If you’re not too busy in the morning… There’s this great breakfast spot near the Senate Dome that allows Grizzer in… I’m sure they’d let Zio in too?” He asks, taking a sip of his caf.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” You ask him.

“Yeah, I am.” He grins. “Even though you think I’m an asshole.”

“Used to…” You laugh. “But yes. Breakfast sounds nice.”

You pull out an old business card, write your comm channel on it, and give it to Hound.

“Send me the details.” You smile, unclipping Zio and standing up.

Hound does the same with Grizzer. “I’ll send you the deets.”

You chuckle. “Can’t wait.”

Turning with Zio, you start walking but hear Hound say “Grizz… did I really just say ‘deets’? Maker, I’m such a di’kut.”

You can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you continue walking home, already looking forward to the next morning.

TAGS: @grievouus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501

#sergeant hound #tcw #the clone wars #tcw hound #coruscant guard #corrie guard #tcw sergeant hound #tcw grizzer #massiff #tcw massiff #hound x reader

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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(purify our misfit ways tag | AO3)

Sometimes he runs through the timeline in his head, trying to figure out: when they were trapped in the elevator, was he yelling at Gareth for fucking up the drum solo? When a sadistic goddamn Russian guard was making them bleed, was he already home and lighting up, Sabbath in the background?

He knows there’s probably not anything he could’ve done if he’d been there with them, but maybe—maybe it would’ve made a difference. Maybe if he’d been there, it would’ve helped somehow.

“Um, no,” says Steve, when Eddie makes the mistake of saying something to that effect. “Jesus, no. I’m really fucking glad you weren’t there, Eddie.”

“Huh. Okay,” says Eddie, a little hurt. He knows he’s not part of the new Steve-and-Robin thing or whatever, but still.

He’d driven Robin over to Steve’s place as a favor, because apparently Robin makes house calls at the Harrington estate now; he hadn’t really thought through the fact that he’d have to hang around until Robin is ready to go, seeing as Steve definitely isn’t capable of driving anytime soon, and now Robin’s in the bathroom and this might actually be the first time it’s ever just been the two of them in a room alone together, and this is what Steve Harrington chooses to say.

“No, I mean—” Steve goes to push his hand through his hair like he always does, and hisses as his bandaged hand catches on the strands. “I hate that Robin was there too. If I was worrying about taking care of you and Robin both, I’d…probably have done something really dumb.” Steve huffs, wincing. “Even dumber, I mean.”

“Who says I’d need you to take care of me? Who takes care of you, huh?” says Eddie. He doesn’t exactly mean to say it like that, and it comes out too soft.

Steve blinks at him like he’s just said something in Quenya, and Eddie…

Okay, so, when Eddie was a kid and still living with his ma, there was this mean old tomcat who’d come around. Never let anyone near, not that most people even wanted to get near something that ragged-looking and crusty. It wasn’t anything pretty or soft, looked like it had about a million diseases, and Ruth Munson had forbidden Eddie in no uncertain terms to go near the thing. Eddie hadn’t needed telling twice. He’d seen the tomcat take a real chunk out of a neighbor girl who’d tried to pet it, seen her hollering at the blood. Eddie wasn’t going to get himself bit like that, no way.

But then some real asshole had clipped the wretched beast out on the road, and Eddie’d found it mewling pitifully with a busted leg right outside his door, of all places. He’d never even tried to be nice to it before, but there it was looking up at him all big-eyed and limping and confused.

Turns out it’d been a savvy old tom to go to him after all, because Eddie’d taken one look and with all the resignation his eleven-year-old heart could muster, he’d thought: ah, hell. Guess this is happening.

Anyway, that’s the same feeling he gets looking at Steve Harrington, now.

Ah, hell.

The tomcat had still been kicking around when Eddie’d left to live with Wayne a few years later, more ancient and ornery than ever, but he’d always let Eddie sidle up close and rub the base of his ears even after his leg healed up and he didn’t need Eddie anymore. Went so far as to purr loud and ugly sometimes when Eddie did that, sputtering and wheezing up a racket like a broken-down motorbike. Even now, Eddie still thinks about him sometimes, wonders how he’s doing.

He rubs his eyes, suddenly wrung out. He hadn’t even known to be on his guard against this, but now it’s here, and he’s just going to have to ride it out until it reaches whatever tragic resolution it’s going to reach. He won’t make the same mistake he did with Robin, though; he’ll keep a leash on his greedy bastard of a heart until it learns not to push for stuff he can’t have.

It’s not the same, obviously. But it’s part of the same pattern; the kind of pattern that’s stretched over Eddie’s life, repeating again and again while he fails to learn his lesson. He’s always been too much for people to take, too hungry for stuff they can’t give him. This painfully tender thing that’s starting to unfurl in him whenever he looks at Steve, now, is just the dumbest part of him ignoring all the flashing red lights warning danger, danger, danger.

He can keep a lid on it, though. He can be better than the weakest part of himself this time. He has to be, because the thing is, Eddie has put in a lot of work into not being the probably-gay kid this time around. He can’t afford to let something slip in front of Steve Harrington, who despite all recent falls from grace is still someone people would believe if he ever said something about Eddie. The denizens of Hawkins High would definitely latch on, if word got around that Steve said something.

If Eddie has to go through the same thing he did back at his old school, but worse and more this time around because all the kids have sharper teeth, he’s—

He’s—

He’s not going to go through that, is all.

Honestly, Eddie had kind of thought he’d be past all this by this point in his life. He’s not sure what kind of life he’d thought he could have, but—a big city, maybe? New York, LA, Chicago, anywhere but Hawkins. It had seemed like a good starting point, but the city means money he doesn’t have, which means a real job he can’t get without the god damn diploma that keeps getting yanked away from him like he’s Charlie Brown chasing the god damn football.

His world is so small and petty, and he knows it, but it’s all he’s ever known. He never expected Steve to come creeping in at the edges, sweet and mean by turns, stealing his best friend and not even having the decency to be a real douchebag about it. Somehow becoming a pretty decent friend to Eddie, too.

Steve’s head is lolling against the back of the couch, eyes closed, breathing even. He’s still supposed to be on a bunch of medication, though Eddie has the sneaking suspicion Steve isn’t taking his pills as religiously as he should. He’s been complaining about feeling too fuzzy with the pills, not being able to think straight.

Personally, Eddie doesn’t really get it. If offered the choice, Eddie would take that cotton-wool layer between himself and the rest of the world any day of the week.

“Is he asleep?” Robin whispers, perching on the arm of the couch.

“No,” mumbles Steve, struggling back upright. “I’m awake. I’m here.”

Eddie glances over at Robin, biting down on a damningly fond smile. “Okay, sailor. How about we get you to bed, huh?”

Steve blinks at him, already sleep-flushed and hazy, and Eddie takes his elbow to tug him up gently. “C’mon. Robin, where’s his room?”

They get him all tucked in; Steve’s pliant, goes easy, and starts snoring before Eddie even hits the lights on his way out.

“I don’t think he’s been getting a lot of sleep,” says Robin.

“Yeah, seems like,” sighs Eddie. “How about you, Robbie? How’ve you been holding up?”

She frowns. “What are you talking about? It’s not like I even needed stitches or anything. Not like Steve did.”

“Sure, but.” He shrugs helplessly. “Buckley, you lived through a fucking nightmare too. Drugged by Russians in an underground lair, shit. It wouldn’t be unreasonable if it, you know, left a mark.”

She climbs into the passenger seat of his van, folding her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees in blatant violation of automobile safety protocols. “I’m fine, Eddie. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Okay,” he says. “I mean, I’m gonna. You can’t stop me. I’m a rebel like that, totally off the chain.”

Robin grins, a bright flash in the low evening light, as he starts the van up to take her home. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “Love you too, nerd.”

#fic: purify our misfit ways #steddie #I cut like 500 words of meandering introspection from this at the last minute #I cannot emphasize enough how much I do not have a plan #I am just...excavating words here

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broiderie · 1 year

Text

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 13

First things first - I'm terrified to be putting this up. It's my first attempt at anything passed make-out sessions. Please be gentle about it. And as always - don't steal my shit.

Warnings: nightmare, 18+ scene, cursing, talk of guns and weapons. Let me know if I missed anything please.

A few hours later, Hank startled awake as the dog nudged him with his nose. He started to get up when he realized that Rex wasn’t going to the door. Instead he was looking at Megan. Hank realized that he had been so tired from the day, he’d slept through what sounded like the beginning of a major nightmare from Megan.

He quickly reached to soothe her as he heard a muffled scream from her throat. “Easy, mi princessa. Easy. I’m here.” He eased her over onto her back so that she could feel him easier and he could stop her from hurting herself in her thrashing as he shifted to kneel between her knees. He braced his hands on her waist to keep her from rolling onto her bad side. “Wake up, Megan. Wake up, baby. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe with me.” He gave her a little shake, hoping to jar her awake a bit, but the nightmare had a strong hold on her.

Megan tossed her head and reached with her free arm whimpering as she tried to move the other one.

He looked around and saw Rex watching from the floor. “Rex, come.” He patted the bed for the big dog, who jumped up. He moved over and put himself on Megan’s good side before encouraging Rex to lay across her legs and waist. Once the dog was steadying her, Hank moved to stroke her face and neck gently. “It’s just a dream, Princessa. I’m right here. Shhh. Easy, baby. Wake up for me.”

Megan’s eyes opened suddenly and she sobbed out a breath before reaching for him again.

He pressed his forehead to hers gently and let her cling to him. “Shh. Easy, mi Princessa. I’m right here. You’re safe, baby. Nothing’s getting through me.” Rex whined a bit. “Or Rex. He’s here too, baby. We’ve got you.”

Megan nodded as she worked to control her panic. She pressed her hand to his chest feeling his heartbeat and breathing as she sobbed.

He moved up to cradle her close and let her calm against his bare chest. When she curled into him, Rex moved up to support her back. Sandwiched between the two of them, Megan slowly calmed. Her breath evened out and she snuggled close. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay, mi amore. We’ve got you,” he whispered gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Megan shook her head. “It hasn’t changed.”

Rex licked her ear gently before laying his head down behind hers.

Megan giggled and whispered, “Good dog.”

Hank reached over her to pet him. “Yes, he is.” He laid back down and kissed her gently. “Think you can sleep again? Or should I get the book?”

Megan yawned. “Can we just… stay like this awhile?”

He cradled her close and stroked her hair out of her face before kissing her deeply, but gently. “Of course, mi amore. Rest. We’ve got you.”

Megan slowly relaxed in his arms and he watched as she fell back asleep. He smiled a little, but didn’t dare move for fear of her waking back up. One glance at the close on what used to be his nightstand and was now Rex’s, showed that it wouldn’t be long before she woke up anyway. Better that she get all the sleep she could.

A few hours later, Rex nudged Hank again before going to the door. This time, he did need out. “Alright buddy, I’m coming.” He tried to disentangle himself from Megan, but she woke up. “Easy, mi princessa. Just taking Rex out. Go back to sleep,” he tried.

Megan whined and stretched before sitting up. “‘Kay. Let’s go.” SHe slid out of bed slowly and slipped her feet into the flip flops he bought her for the beach.

He chuckled and stood to put on his slides while she clipped the leash to Rex’s collar.

They took him out and let him do his business before heading back inside. The coffee shop was just opening in the lobby as they passed it, Megan slowed down. “Want a cup? Papa and the tíos won’t be up yet.”

Hank smiled. “Sure, mi reina. Let’s get a cup. We can charge it to the room.”

They went to the counter and Hank ordered for them. Black coffee for him. Coffee with cream and three sugars for Megan.

“And - a puppichino for the puppy dog…” the female barista said with a wink.

Megan giggled and held the cup of whipped cream down for Rex. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

They took their coffee and walked back to the suite. It was early. Very early. The sun hadn’t started to rise quite yet. Megan found a door off the common room that led to a balcony overlooking the desert and took Rex out there. Hank detoured to their room to pull the comforter off the bed. He joined Megan on the balcony and wrapped her gently in the comforter before standing behind her. He held her back against his chest and kissed her temple as they watched the sun begin to rise.

“A new day,” she said.

He smiled. “A new day, mi amore. Today, you start something new. Are you anxious?”

“A little. This helps.” She leaned back against him a little more.

“Good. It’s supposed to.” He kissed her temple again. “Nothing has to change, mi amore. Not with the club. Not with the family. All this does is mean we can stick closer together. You can come on runs. Know everything and be right with us no matter what, and no one can say shit. Not Galindo, not the Irish, not anyone.” He rocked them gently back and forth. “That’s all any of this has to mean, baby. I can handle everything else when it comes down to it.”

“And if I want it to be more?” Megan asked. “If I want to help you, help the club?”

“Then you do, mi reina. But only on your own terms. Your papa and I will make sure of that. Everything is on your terms.” He nuzzled her ear and neck. “I promise you.”

“I trust you.” She tugged his hand inside the blanket he had wrapped around her and placed it against her skin where her tank top had ridden up above her sweats.

“Good girl.” He kissed her neck gently and pressed her closer. “You look absolutely beautiful right now, Princessa. You have no idea.” He pressed himself against her back. “I love you, mi reina.”

Megan sucked in a breath and turned her head to meet his eyes. “Hank?”

“Yes, mi amore. Yes. I said it. I love you.” He leaned his forehead against hers.

Megan’s eyes teared and she kissed him softly. “I love you too. So much.”

He smiled and kissed her back. He let her turn into him so that she was facing him and kissed her again, sliding an arm around her waist and holding her as tight as her cast and sling allowed. His other hand cradled her neck and face, guiding her to kiss him deeper.

When he sensed her getting short of breath, he guided his kisses across her jaw and down her neck to nibble and gently suck a mark on her neck where it met her good shoulder as she moaned softly in his ear.

He chuckled and nudged her chin up with his nose so he could press more kisses there. “That’a girl,” he whispered as he gently nibbled under her ear. He felt her nails against the small of his back as she tried desperately to pull herself closer to him.

He walked himself backwards, tugging her along, to sit on the patio couch, pulling her to sit astride him. He kissed her again and felt her hops press into his, making his breath catch.

The rising sun highlighted her dark hair and as the blanket fell, he caught glimpses of her skin through her thin white tank top. The yellowing bruises made him pause.

Megan moaned softly again and it snapped him back to the pleasant feeling of the woman he loved on top of him. His hands shift to her hips, pressing her tight against his own, but allowing her to move at her own pace as she rocked against him. He stoked the skin over her low slung sweats with his thumbs encouragingly. “Good girl, mi Princessa.” He kissed her deeply again as her hand ran through his hair to cup the back of his neck as her hips rocked.

Megan whimpered a moan, causing him to groan into the kisses. One of his hands shifted to her lower back under her clothes to guide her motions and support ehr as her back arched. He kissed down her neck again to place wet kisses across her cleavage. “Mmm. That’a girl. Does that feel good, Princessa?” He chuckled against her skin as she nodded, too breathless to speak. “Good.” He sucked another mark at the top of her breast as he guided her rock against him a little harder and faster. She moaned and threw her head back at the increase in pressure. “There you go, amore. Are you close?” He lowered his head to suck gently at a hardened nipple through her shirt.

Megan whined softly and Hank took that as the affirmative. He smiled up at her and nipped gently at her bottom lip. “Let go for me, mi reina. I’ve got you.” She gasped softly and quivered against him as he helped her rock through her pleasure. He watched her face and slowed the motion to pull her against his bare chest. “Shhh,” he whispered. He stroked soothing motions down her spine as she shuddered her way through the come down. “Good girl.” He buried his face in her neck and breathed her in.

Once her breathing evened out, he pulled the blanket back up to cover her against his chest. She nuzzled close, kissing his skin and he grinned at how boneless she was against him. “You okay, mi princessa?” he asked quietly, continuing to stroke her back. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Megan giggled a little. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re still hard.” She looked up at him from her spot on his chest and stroked a hand down his bare side.

He smiled and shifted to kiss her nose. “I’m not the one with broken bones, mi amore. I’m fine. I can wait.” He kissed her softly.

Her eyes closed at his gentle kiss. “Mmm. I’m perfect,” she whispered, keeping her eyes shut and resting against him.

“Good. Let’s get showered and changed. The others will be up soon, and you need to eat.” He stood carefully, wrapping her legs around him and carrying her to the bathroom in their room.

After quick showers for both of them, Hank dressed himself for the meeting with Galindo in jeans and a t-shirt with his green and black plaid over it. He grinned as he realized the shirt smelled like Megan from when she borrowed it.

Megan was digging through her duffle. “What should I wear? I know this meeting is important to the club, but a dress doesn’t feel appropriate for what we’re trying to introduce me as.” She looked up at him.

“Well, you’ll be wearing your kutte for one. We want him to get used to seeing you in it. Think of it as a uniform,” Hank said.

Megan nodded. “The black jeans then.” She pulled them out. Her hand lingered on Hank’s soft colors a moment.

“You can wear them, mi reina,” he said with a smile as he buttoned his cuffs. “I love it when you do.”

She smiled back. “Me too, but it might not look good if we’re establishing me as an officer in my own right. Especially since we don’t want anyone thinking I slept my way in. You can’t take Galindo to the ring.”

Hank chuckled but nodded. “True enough, but I’d sure try if he said something.”

She pulled out another plain black t-shirt and added it to her pile to change into. She finished it off with her new boots from Taza. Hank helped her to unwrap her towel and dress carefully before gathering her blank kutte with a smile. Megan grabbed her hair stuff and they went out to the common room where everyone else was gathering for breakfast.

As morning greetings were exchanged, a cart with breakfast came to the door pushed by Adam, himself. Taza went to speak with him.

Megan sat down her hair bag and waited patiently. Creeper gently touched her elbow. “Need help, Little Princess?”

Megan smiled at him. “Maybe a little. Hard to braid with a busted arm.”

“Can I try? I’ve been practicing since your pop showed me how,” he asked. “I know it’s something special you two do, but -”

Megan smiled at the bald man brightly, “Sure Creep. Thanks.”

He grinned and stood behind her. “I’m not great yet, but let’s see what I can do.” He carefully divided her hair and managed a single french braid. It was a little lopsided and not very tight, but he managed it.

Hank watched with a soft smile as Megan let Creeper braid her hair. When the bald man tied it off triumphantly, he checked Megan’s hair bag. “Here, Creep. Tuck this in at the top.” He handed him one of the combs Diana had gifted Megan that she had yet to wear. It was silver filigree.

Creeper gently slid the comb in with a smile of triumph. “There ya go, Little Princess.”

Megan grinned. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Marcus chuckled and brought Megan a cup of coffee. “Damn, Poquito. Who knew bikers could braid.”

“Ah, gimme time. I’ll get better at it,” Creeper said with a laugh.

Taza chuckled as well as he brought Megan a plate. “Pretty good for a first try, brother.”

“Figured if I fucked it up, at least you could fix it, man.”

“True enough. Looks good though.” Taza sat the plate down in front of Megan. “Here, Chica. Adam remembered about the pineapple. There’s also almond butter for your toast if you want it.”

Megan’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Hank took that as his que and brought it along with his own plate and the honey. “Here you go, Princessa.”

“Thank you!” Megan said, smiling up at him before carefully spreading a little on her toast.

All of the men gathered around eating breakfast casually and talking. Most of them were planning to hit the casino while the others went to the bike shop. Coco claimed EZ for the day and Megan watched as Angel and Gilly sighed before declaring that they’d stick close too. Riz and the Oakland boys also planned to stay, leaving Creeper to go along this time with Megan, Hank, Taza and her padrinos.

“We’re just picking up the patches, right?” Megan asked seriously.

“Maybe a few other things, Chica,” Taza said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes. “There are TWO vehicles out there loaded down with ‘other things’, Papa…”

Bishop snorted at the sass. “Maybe so, Poquito, but the van isn’t full yet.”

The other men laughed.

Marcus smiled at her from across the table. “Relax, Poquito. We’ll just look for things you might like to customize your new rides, alright? Besides, last time I was there, there was a whole section for dogs. We can pick some things out for Rex.”

That made Megan pause as she glanced at her big dog, who was contentedly eating in the corner. “Well… he does need some things…”

Bishop grinned. “That’a girl, Poquito.”

After breakfast, Megan went to gather the rest of her things. She didn’t even flinch at leaving the room where her father and Hank were. She brought out both holsters and her new knife. She debated the thigh bag, but decided against it for the day since they would only leave the casino to go to the bike shop.

Hank grinned as he saw her carrying things. “Need some help, mi princessa?”

“Please. If I’m going to do this shit, it won’t be unarmed.” She smiled sheepishly.

“Too right, ma,” Coco said as he came out of his room shrugging on his own kutte. “Anyone bring her kevlar?”

All the men shook their heads.

Coco looked at Bishop. “Prez - I don’t like it.”

Marcus held up a pacifying hand. “I’ve got Marco on it. There’s some that are more concealable than our usual and he’s gonna get it before the meeting. It’ll be lighter on her too.”

Bishop gestured at Coco. “See. We’ve got her covered.”

Megan shook her head. “Gonna bubblewrap me while you’re at it?”

Hank grinned as he started threading her knife sheath on her belt for her. He was sure to do it so the hilt was reachable with her left hand. He ducked his head and chuckled as some of the men stared at her in shock.

Coco shrugged. “Think it’ll help?”

José snorted into his coffee as he laughed.

Megan grinned. “Probably not.”

Taza passed by as he went to retrieve his own kutte and jacket and dropped a kiss on her hair. “That’a girl,” he said as he went.

Marco chuckled and shook his head. “Princessa’s got sass this morning.”

Hank just grinned as he stood from fastening her ankle holster. “Told you. You should see her behind a bar.”

Megan giggled.

“Alright, mi amore. Ready for your shoulder rig?” Hank asked, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.

Megan took a deep breath and nodded.

Hank unstrapped her sling while she supported ehr arm. Then he carefully maneuvered the holster over her cast and situated it before strapping her sling back into place.

“Yo... Don’t that hurt?” Gilly asked.

Hank quickly got the other shoulder on her and adjusted buckles while Megan breathed through the pain.

Once he was done, Megan smiled tightly. “Not so much once it’s on. This rig distributes the weight more towards my back than my collar bone. Besides- it’s easier for me to draw left-handed this way.”

Gilly winced. “Why not the waist holster until you heal?”

Megan shrugged her good shoulder. “The weight isn’t bad. I promise. And this is more concealable. Plus, I kept dropping my gun drawing from the waist with my left.”

Gilly shook his head. “If this wasn’t with Galindo, I’d say stick to the pee shooter.” He pointed at her ankle. “But I know you’d rather your 9.”

Hank frowned at Gilly. “She knows what she’s doing, man.” He looked Megan over. “All good, Princessa? Need adjusted anywhere?”

Megan smiled up at him. “All good, but I forgot something to cover my holster…”

“I can get something if you want to harness Rex, mi amore. Flannel or hoody?” Hank asked.

“Flannel please. Doesn’t matter which one,” she said with a smile as she popped up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“Alright. Be right back.” Hank went to find her a flannel in their room.

Megan called Rex over and got him to step into his harness before looking at Gilly. “He’s not wrong. You’re going to have to trust that I know what I’m doing at some point, Gilly. Best to start with me knowing my own limits.” She clipped the harness closed and petted Rex gently. “My body. My choice.”

Gilly shrugged uncomfortably and glanced around before realizing that she’d said it quiet enough not to draw attention from the other men in the room. “I know. Sorry, Princessa. I just don’t like to think you’re in pain.”

Megan nodded. “I understand, but Gilly…” she looked him straight in the eyes. “Not your girl. Not your choice.”

He winced and nodded. “Alright, Princessa. I get the picture.”

“Good.” She stood and patted his shoulder as Hank returned with a dark green flannel.

“Here, Princessa. Let’s get this on you.”

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quaranmine · 2 years

Text

How to Be a Human Being (Chapter Ten)

Boatem is in the void.

Masterpost | Chapter Nine

Words: 4742

We've gotten too far into this fic without any mortal peril, huh?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s odd how reality started to drip away from you as you floated in the void. Grian was accustomed to falling into the Boatem Hole and dying after a few seconds, but the moon’s gravity was stronger now and none of them had truly felt gravity in a long time. As such, he found himself sort of floating next to Mumbo, going downwards at a nearly imperceptible pace.

The light from the Boatem Hole was still visible–the hole itself was still visible. Grian thought he could see a torch flicker way up above, but then it suddenly vanished from view. The whole view of their world seemed to be warping and fading as they fell deeper, and the bedrock seemed to move under his gaze. It made him dizzy.

He looked up anyway, because this was the last time he’ll ever see their home.

The void was dark and full of inky blackness right up until it wasn't. There were little lights on the horizon, like purple and blue stars, though they seemed to move and blink when Grian moved his head. Scar, Impulse, and Pearl were below him and Mumbo–the two of them had fallen a bit slower than the others after Scar failed to include the correct amount of escape hatches for them.

“Grian! Mumbo!” Scar shouted, snapping Grian out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“You’re too far away. We should be tethered together.”

“Oh,” Mumbo muttered. “Does that mean we’re gonna float off, then? I really don’t fancy floating off into the void alone. Or with you, no offense.”

“No, they’re saying they’re gonna toss us a tether,” Grian replied. “Look, Impulse is holding it right now. Get ready.”

Impulse tossed them the tether. It missed the first time, with the void being difficult to account for since it behaved differently than air. The second time, though, Mumbo caught it.

“I caught it!” he said.

“Tie my suit onto yours,” Grian said.

“Oh, how should I . . .”

Grian rolled his eyes and took the tether from Mumbo, and slid the tether through one of the metal rings on his suit before clipping the carabiner on the other end to a ring on Mumbo’s suit and locking it. “Now we’re both attached to each other.”

“I could have tied that tether, you know. I’m good with tying knots, I just didn’t know which one to choose for this.”

“I’d rather see your knots when our lives aren’t on the line. Using the clip is easier. It’s made for this, you know.”

Impulse reeled them back down until everyone was at the same level together, and then they all took turns attaching the tether to one another until they floated in a line. There was enough slack to move around if they wanted, but nobody was going to drift away from the group. Grian gave it about five minutes before they were all tangled up in each other like a dog accidentally wrapping a leash around its leg.

“Now we won’t float off!” Scar said, triumphantly. “This is so cool, it’s like a spacewalk. I’ve always wanted to do one of those, you know.”

“Wish it was in better circumstances,” Impulse said.

“Or, you know, actually in space,” said Grian. The group sort of uncomfortably agreed with that, and fell silent for a bit. Boatem, on most days, were never silent when all put in a room together at once. There was always something going wrong, someone teasing someone, someone making a joke, someone accidentally (or purposefully) killing another, someone scamming, someone planning, or someone arguing. But it didn’t feel like there was a lot to say right now.

Mumbo finally broke the silence. “So, er, Scar, where exactly are we going?”

“Yeah,” Pearl added. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Um,” Scar said.

“Scar,” Grian said, not liking that tone.

“Um, well you see, I, uh, didn’t plan that far?” Scar explained hastily, hands thrown up placatingly. “I just built the rocket, you know! And the suits! I did those too. And, I got us out of there, but I didn’t really make a plan for how we’re getting out of here. I didn’t have time for that.”

“You made us go in here without a way to get us out?” Pearl exclaimed, at the same time Mumbo started making distressed noises and stumbled over some comment about how they were all trapped here and going to die.

“Well what was your plan to get us out of there?” Scar asked defensively.

“I was going to blow up the moon,” Mumbo said.

“Yeah, and how did that work out for you?” Grian said sarcastically.

“It’s not my fault you all distracted me so I couldn’t detonate it in time!”

“Oh, blame it on me-”

Pearl cut in. “Mumbo, wasn’t it also your idea to start a cult around not sleeping so that we’d appease the moon god or whatever?”

“YOU joined it! If it was such a bad idea, then why did everyone here join it?” Mumbo cried. “Besides, that was all a lie. How could any of you believe that? It was so silly, I can’t believe you fell for it.”

“I don’t need to sleep,” Pearl said. “It doesn’t matter if I joined it because it had no effect on me.”

“You were dead serious about the Mooners. Don’t lie, I saw it,” Grian said at the same time. “You roped me into it.”

“You wouldn’t sleep because you wanted to measure the moon!” Mumbo exclaimed. “I didn’t rope you in because you never even believed me.”

“Maybe I’d have believed you if you hadn’t tricked me into giving my soul away earlier this season,” Grian said, and actually enjoyed the hurt look on Mumbo’s face for a moment. “And yeah, I measured the moon. I wanted to actually do something about it!”

“Did you?” Mumbo asked, quietly. “Did you do something about it?”

Grian stopped. Because, well, he hadn’t. Not really. All he had was a book of numbers carefully scratched out proving the moon was getting bigger. Which was something he already had empirical evidence of every time he stepped outside at night.

“I asked Scar,” he said, “to build us a rocket.”

“I never slept,” Scar said mildly. “Except when I needed to. That whole Mooner business was funny, though. And I built the rocket, didn’t I? I did what you asked!”

“You’re like talking to a genie, Scar, I swear. Ask you for one thing and you better be specific or else you’re gettin’ something else. I asked for the rocket so we could go to space,” Grian shouted. “Not the void! You know, because rockets are for space. I thought you were supposed to be the space-person on the server, you talk about it all the time!”

“Scar-X has never had an unsuccessful space mission,” he defended.

“That’s because you’ve never had a space mission,” Mumbo muttered. “And this still isn’t one.”

“Why didn’t you build a rocket, Grian?” Scar asked.

“Because I don’t know how! That’s why I asked you!”

“I still got us out of there.”

“Yeah,” Pearl said. “Into the void where we might all die.”

“Well, that’s just a little pessimistic,” Scar pointed out. “Lighten up, Pearl! We’re all here, aren’t we?”

“I don’t even know where here is,” Mumbo said. “Are we sure this is better than before? I mean, really. Couldn’t we have just left the server? Wouldn’t some place, like, I dunno, Empires take us all in for a bit?”

“The moon made the server unstable. The server instability was making portals unsafe to use, at the end,” Pearl said. “We wouldn’t have been able to properly escape to someone else’s world without risking it too with the instability. So our best bet is finding a new blank world, so if the portal fails then we don’t risk anyone else. That’s what Xisuma said during the meeting.”

“Oh thank God,” Scar said. “Someone who actually listened during that.”

“Guys,” Impulse said. The others bickered over him.

“Maybe you should listen harder,” Grian commented, “because then you’d remember I commissioned a spaceship, not a device to drop us all in the void.”

“Oh, ‘cause you have a great track record of listening to everything people tell you, don’t you, Grian?” Pearl scoffed.

“Guys,” Impulse said again.

“Are you gonna start now too, Pearl?” Grian said. “Because I don’t remember you doing much about the moon either!”

“I couldn’t hurt my moon cousin!”

“You literally watched when Mumbo tried to blow it up.”

“Well, it sure looks like it was coming to hurt us,” Mumbo said. “Also, did we ever set a place to meet back at? Pearl said Xisuma said we’re supposed to find a blank world, but did anyone ever get where we’re going?”

“I imagine that’s what our communicators are for,” Scar said.

“Guys,” Impulse said a third time, finally breaking into their argument. “Somethin’s wrong.”

“Yeah,” said Pearl. “We’re stuck here and nobody agreed on a way to get us out of here.”

Scar opened his mouth, ready to defend himself once again, but Mumbo cut him off. “No, uh–I think Impulse is right. Something’s wrong.” He drifted over in front of Impulse, and squinted. “Are you okay buddy?”

Impulse blinked. He wasn’t really looking directly at Mumbo, and instead appeared to be watching some point just above his shoulder. “I don’ think so,” he mumbled.

Grian, Pearl and Scar drifted closer. Impulse was breathing fast, quick sharp breaths that fogged up his helmet a little. “Guys, give him space,” Pearl said. “Let him breathe. You’ll freak him out some more and if he’s panicking then that’ll just make it worse.”

“He’s slurring his words,” Scar noted. “What’s going on? Impulse? Can you tell us?”

“My head hurts,” he said.

“Try to take deeper breaths,” Pearl said. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“I can’t,” Impulse said. He slowly lifted his arm, like maybe he was going to grab onto Pearl for support, but instead he did the one thing Grian didn’t expect: he started to remove his helmet.

They exploded into action–really, too many people in such a small space, with Mumbo shouting Don’t! while Pearl grabbed one of Impulse’s arms and Grian grabbed the other and yanked it downwards. Impulse’s fingers had moved too clumsily to keep up with his friends’, and Grian let out a hot breath when he realized that the helmet was still securely on.

Or was it?

“Why did he do that?” Pearl shouted, at the same time Grian gave the all clear that the helmet was still attached properly. “Impulse, that would have killed you!”

“Impulse?” Mumbo said. “What happened?”

Impulse looked at Mumbo almost like he’d forgotten he was there, despite Mumbo having been next to him this whole time. “Can’ breathe,” he said. “I need . . .” He reached for his helmet again, but Grian held down his arm. It didn’t take a lot of effort.

“He thinks he needs to take the helmet off,” Grian said. “He can’t breathe and he thinks that it’s obstructing him.”

“He’s confused,” Scar said. “He’s not getting enough oxygen. That’s why he’s not speaking right, why his head hurts, and why he’s not focusing on us properly.” He paused for a long second and took a deep breath. “I don’t have to tell you guys that this isn’t good.”

“Did you pack enough?” Mumbo said. “Oxygen, I mean? Our suits don’t have–they don’t have tanks. Oh my god,” he muttered, “we don’t have tanks . . .”

Scar frowned. “We don’t need them. The suit recycles the air. I know a thing or two about that and used it to make the design more compact.”

“How- It recycles carbon dioxide to air? Like a plant? In the void?” Grian asked, puzzled. He shook his head stiffly. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn't matter! He’s not getting enough oxygen. Is it broken? Is your weird device broken?”

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Pearl said, examining him. “I don’t think his exhaling is the problem. I think it’s the void. I think there’s a leak.”

“My suits don’t have leaks,” Scar answered immediately.

“Well maybe they do,” Grian said. “Clearly they do.” It came out harsher than he expected, and Scar flinched, eyes wide.

“Is it–a slow leak?” Mumbo said. “We've been down here an awfully long while.”

Grian remembered his rules of the void uneasily. While they’d been arguing earlier, they all drifted well beyond the normal point of no return. There was no more slow falling from the moon’s gravity, because they were no longer in any realm the moon could affect. They were in a part of the void nobody had ever seen except the creatures that lived here, because it killed everyone who passed through it. And as far as Grian knew, nobody in Boatem was a voidwalker.

There’s not many things with a 100% mortality rate. People survive falls with feather falling. People survive lava with potions of fire resistance. People survive viruses with medicine and vaccines. People survive drowning through water breathing potions and making pockets of air. But the void? It didn’t matter if you had wings or an elytra or potions or armor, if you fell too deep and passed that gradient to the point of no return, it killed you every time.

And death didn’t like to be cheated.

The void wants YOU. It wants to gnaw on the edges of you and run tendrils up through your nasal passages and dig its fingers into your lungs until you burn up from the inside out and die, leaving you body and all your possessions as a gift to the unknown.

“There must be a hole in his suit,” Grian said. “He’s being choked by the void. That’s what it does to you. It chokes you and suffocates you and burns you up on the inside.”

Scar looked horrified. “Check the seal of his helmet!” he cried. “It might be a bad seal.”

“You don’t think he managed to get it loose earlier?” Mumbo asked.

“No,” Grian said. “He didn’t. I think he’s been losing air for a while, letting the void in instead.”

Pearl was examining Impulse’s helmet, running her gloved fingers across the seal. Scar started rummaging through his pockets on the suit. “I think I . . . I think I have something to fix the seals,” he muttered. “If I can find it.”

“Please find it,” Mumbo said. He wrung his hands.

“Impulse?” Grian said. “Are you alright?”

There was a long pause and Grian almost thought he wasn’t going to respond at all. “I don’ wanna die,” he said after a moment.

“You’re not gonna die!” all the other Boatem members shouted at once.

“Can you keep talking to me?” Grian said.

Nothing.

“Impulse?” He peered through Impulse’s helmet, but Impulse didn’t make eye contact. The quick breaths had stopped and there was no more fog on the inside of his helmet. He just looked sleepy. They needed to work fast.

“Ugh!” Pearl said, and made some other noise Grian couldn’t have translated if he tried. “I can’t find anything! I thought I might be able to but I can’t feel a thing in these gloves.”

They all looked at Scar. He was quiet. “I can’t find the material to fix the seal,” he said softly, staring at the not-ground below them and refusing to look them in the eye. “I don’t know if it wouldn’t have worked in the void either. For all I know it would react somehow and dry up the moment it left the tube.”

Impulse’s side of the tether started to pull taut a little, and he suddenly sunk down.

“He’s not supporting his own weight anymore,” Grian said, feeling ice drip down his veins.

Pearl was supporting the back of his head from where she’d been trying to feel the edge of the seal. “He’s unconscious.” The words were loud and then fizzled, consumed in the thickness of the void. There was no echo here. It was just for the four of them to hear.

“I don’t have the material to fix the seal. We don’t know where the leak is. I made the suits faulty. I trapped us here,” Scar said vacantly.

“Is he going to die?!” Mumbo shouted hysterically.

“If he can’t breathe,” Pearl said. “We have to fix it.”

“He can just respawn, won’t he? Right? He can still respawn, right?”

“I don’t think he can,” Grian said quietly. “The void is shared in all worlds, right? We’ve fallen beyond our world’s void. We don’t belong to any world right now, we’re in the void’s realm. I don’t know what happens when you respawn out here. You don’t have a world to go back to. And if he did, who’s to say that our server is still intact and the moon hasn’t crashed by now?”

Where can you go, if there’s no place to go back to? Where do you go if you die in between worlds?

“He’s going to perma-die,” Scar said.

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. I hope not,” Grian said, but the uncertainty wasn’t hopeful. It just dragged them further down like an anchor chained to his feet.

“We don’t have time to talk about this!” Pearl said. “We have to work fast! Even if we can save him, we can’t wait too long or it’ll cause brain damage.” Pearl pulled Impulse closer, clutching onto him. Maybe if she held tight enough, he’d stay. “If you have any ideas, please, we need them now.”

“I don’t- I don’t,” Scar repeated. Mumbo spun in place, like he’d find something other than the endless void around them to use and save the day.

Grian was frozen, like the ice that had dripped through his veins had finally rooted him to the spot and he couldn’t move. He couldn’t lose another friend. Not again, not again, not again.

Scar laid a hand on Grian’s arm and he was violently snapped back to the present. They were all on thin ice, and it was getting thinner and thinner as time moved forward. Cracking, ready to plunge Impulse into the icy depths where he’d drown. But Impulse was still here for now. He was going to die if he couldn’t get more oxygen. But he wasn’t dead yet.

He couldn’t lose him. And–maybe, for once, Grian could do something about it.

He reached deep within himself, and tried to pull out a power he’d nearly forgotten. Nearly, because for once the soul-sharing with Mumbo had paid off–he’d been forced to pull it out of dormancy, brush it off, and practice it just so Mumbo would know what Watchers were capable of. It was like a little tendril in his core, difficult to grasp but in clear focus now.

Watchers were creative beings, perhaps second only to their stated purpose of watching. They blessed the world with materials, and facilitated updates. They created towers and things and gave players items, be they good or bad. They had access to blocks normal players didn’t, and placed them as easily as they could manipulate the rest of the world’s building blocks.

And Grian had always been a builder, even before he’d been blessed with the Watchers’ creative ability and then rejected it once more. Maybe that’s why they liked him. It was a better reasoning than anything else he’d come up with.

But Grian wasn’t making a house right now, or an obelisk or a maze or trap like the Watchers would have. He had one simple goal in mind: create something, anything, to keep his friends safe in the void.

The answer came inelegantly in the strongest material his panicked mind could think of: a plain bedrock box. 5x5, for 5 people.

A thunk echoed through the small space as the last block slid in place, punctuated only by his own gasping breaths. Just like mining out a space underwater, there was a small pocket of air in here. Grian didn’t know how long it would last, but he wasn’t worried about the future. The sound of his friend breathing would be enough.

Pearl sank to the newly-present floor along with Impulse. With shaky hands, she yanked on the helmet clasp, pulling it free. There was no sound–for some reason, he thought that taking the helmet off should have made a hissing sound, but it didn’t. There wasn’t a proper seal to break, he supposed.

“Is he breathing?” Grian said.

“Yeah,” Pearl said. “He is.” She rested the front of her helmet on the top of Impulse’s head. The lighting in the room was dim and murky, throwing glare on the helmets and leaving the corners in thick shadows, but Grian thought her cheeks looked wet.

The lighting in the room was dim and murky. Grian realized abruptly that there was no light. No proper lighting. It was just him glowing–his eyes, his skin, the power glowing at his palms and still shining under the gloves.

Oh. He probably didn’t look human anymore. That’s alright though, wasn’t it? Because his friends were all here, in this box, and he could see them all and reach out and touch them if he wanted, and he could listen to them breathe because they were all alive.

He dropped to his knees, suddenly feeling very tired, and tried to put his head between his knees the best he could in his helmet.

Scar removed his helmet with a click and a hiss and–yeah, it probably wasn’t necessary anymore since they had air in this little box. “Is he okay?” he asked.

“I think he will be,” Pearl said. “He didn’t spend very long unconscious. He should wake up in a few moments.”

“And what if he-” isn’t, Scar started, before stopping. “Yeah. He’s going to be okay.”

Grian felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Mumbo asked. And then, softly, “Thank you.”

“You’re safe now,” Grian whispered. He took in a shaky breath. “Can you . . . can you take some of it?” he asked. “The shelter. It’s hard to keep in place. You have half my powers now too; I’m not working at the capacity I could be. We have to share now.”

“Do you trust me?” Mumbo said. “What if I can’t hold it? What if I get us all killed?”

Grian chuckled and lifted his head to look Mumbo in the eye. Mumbo held his gaze. “It would be hard for you to do any worse than how we all almost got killed just then,” he said. He didn’t draw the distinction that only Impulse was in danger of death, because losing any member of Boatem might as well be the same as killing them all anyway. “Yeah. I do trust you.”

“How do I do it? You taught me, but this . . . this is different.”

Grian reached out and put his hand on Mumbo’s chest. The suits were thick, but he could still feel Mumbo’s heart hammering. He smiled, a little, at that. Proof of life. “Just . . . you should be able to feel my powers. We share it, yeah? It’s like a web, interconnected. Just add your own energy. I already made the blueprint, I just need some support.”

He felt Mumbo’s heart speed up, and then steady into a normal rhythm. Then it was like a weight was listed off him, but not quite–maybe it was a sense of being strengthened, or like someone taking your hand and helping you up off the ground. He’d never shared his powers with Mumbo before. He taught him, he demonstrated, Mumbo had used them, but they’d never actually been in sync with each other.

Mumbo’s eyes glowed a little too as he activated his powers. Purple. Grian didn’t think the color really suited either of them.

“Careful,” he murmured. “It’s harder than it looks to make this stupid little box. The void is . . . it wants to consume us. This bedrock doesn’t actually exist in our reality. I just created it out of nothing and it can just as easily vanish into nothing. And it’s really not supposed to be in the void. The void, er, knows that. So don’t drop it.”

“And if we do, then we die?”

“Then we die.”

“Well,” Mumbo said. “At least it’d be all five of us together, then.”

Across the tiny room, there was a sharp gasp. “He’s awake!” Pearl cried.

Impulse!

Mumbo and Grian scrambled to the other side of the room and crouched next to Impulse, Pearl, and Scar. Impulse eyes fluttered open, and then he screwed them back shut.

“Ugh,” he groaned.

“How do you feel?” Pearl asked.

“Like my head is split in two,” Impulse said. He opened his eyes again and coughed a few times. “Ouch, that hurts.”

“Nearly dying does that to you.”

Impulse sat up slowly, eyes shut again against the pain. “What happened?” he asked.

“You nearly suffocated,” Grian said. “Your suit had a slow leak and was letting the void in.”

Impulse opened his eyes and stared at the opposite wall for a moment, and then looked back at Grian. All his movements were slow. He squinted as they made eye contact, Grian’s eyes still glowing. “And then somehow . . . I’m here?”

“Grian saved us,” Pearl said, and then turned to Grian and threw her arms around his neck, helmet clonking his as she pulled him in for the hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.

When they pulled apart, Grian noticed Scar was staring at him and Mumbo. He was suddenly aware that neither Scar nor Impulse had ever seen him in any Watcher form. Immediately, that familiar anxiety stabbed him, but instead of bleeding out into a thick and all-consuming panic, it just stayed on the back of his neck, prickling him slightly. He normally might have cared more than this, but now Grian just felt like a wrung-out dish rag, drained and exhausted. If rain had existed in the void, he’d have been drenched from standing out in a downpour and dead on his feet.

“Dude,” Scar blurted out. “That was SO COOL!”

Grian blinked. “Uh.”

“I had no idea you could do that! And now you’re all glowing? And you created bedrock? And you saved Impulse’s life? That was amazing!”

“. . . Thanks?”

“This was you?” Impulse said.

Grian nodded.

Impulse rolled his eyes and shook his head, wincing as it exacerbated the pain. He punched Grian weekly in the shoulder. “Dude, I can’t believe you,” he said.

“Sorry-” Grian started automatically, but Impulse cut him off.

He continued: “I can’t believe you had the ability to manipulate bedrock this entire time and yet you always make me do it at the start of every season!”

Oh.

“That’s just because he’s lazy,” Pearl said confidently. “Why break it yourself when you can make someone else, eh Griba?”

“And I did it for free this season since we were all in Boatem together!” Impulse said. “Wow, I can’t believe this. You’ve just been scamming for bedrock breaking services this whole time.”

“It’s not just me doing this bedrock right now,” Grian defended feebly. “Mumbo’s helping.”

“Er, I suppose I kind of am, aren’t I?” Mumbo said.

“Yeah, what’s up with you two?” Scar asked. “I know you’re weird but you’re normally not this weird.”

“Hey-” Mumbo started.

“He stole my soul!” Grian said. “He tricked me into signing away my soul, and then he ATE it, and now he’s like this. Because I’m like this.”

“You’re not going to ever let me live that down, will you?”

“Nope.”

“Um, I’m out of the loop,” Impulse said. “What is ‘this’?”

“And what is soul eating?” Scar asked, eyes sharp and glinting with something unknown. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to tell Scar it was possible to steal people’s souls.

Grian took a deep breath. He was getting pretty good at explaining things now, wasn’t he? It was beginning to feel like a routine. Lay out what a Watcher is and what a Watcher does. Lay out why he’s one of them, and why he’s here instead of doing what they do. Perhaps lay out why Mumbo’s here too, and how that works. And avoid the question that inevitably gets asked, of why didn’t you say anything sooner?

“It’s-”

“‘This’ is something that is saving us right now,” Mumbo said. “And this is just Grian.”

“Yeah,” Grian said softly. “I’m just me.”

<< Chapter Nine | Masterpost | Chapter Eleven >>

#hermitcraft #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #boatem crew #hermitcraft season 8 #watcher grian #watcher mumbo #hermitcraft fanfic #quara fanfic

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ncfan-1 · 2 years

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I haven’t yet watched the premiere of the new Obi-Wan show, and I’m still deciding whether or not I’m going to watch this show. I’ve been having thoughts about Obi-Wan a lot lately, though, I think probably at least partly stirred up by the approach of the show, and I wanted to get some of them out, if only to solidify my thoughts about the way I see him.

I don’t think I see Obi-Wan in quite the same way a lot of other people see him, though it is also entirely possible that I’m just not finding the right metas and other posts. I swear to God, I feel like by the time anyone who’s reading this is finished, they’re going to think I hate him, but I really don’t, I promise you I don’t. It’s just that there are times when I feel some cognitive dissonance when I think of him, and I think it’s because he is such a dissonant person sometimes. The man contains multitudes.

Anyways, the duality of Obi-Wan Kenobi:

On the one hand, I do see him as a man who, though he strives always to live up to the ideals of the Jedi Order, not acting from attachment very much included, sometimes just straight-up can’t help but act from attachment. Sometimes, Obi-Wan’s concern for his loved ones just overrides all of the teachings he holds so dear. Like when Maul taunts him by bringing up Qui-Gon’s death when he’s dueling Maul and Savage and Obi-Wan just freakin’ loses it for a moment, but the big example of this is from ‘The Lawless’ in TCW when he goes to Mandalore to rescue Satine.

Let me set the stage for you, just to make sure we have all the background. Satine has been overthrown by Maul and Death Watch, and has been thrown in prison. During a brief prison break, she gets a distress call off to the Jedi Council, trying to reach Obi-Wan in particular. Yoda and Ki-Adi Mundi (and, by implication, the rest of the Council) watch the message first, before Obi-Wan can see it. They want to help; that much is obvious. But the war has eroded the Order’s independence to the point that the Jedi can no longer fulfill their own mandate if it runs at cross-purposes to what the Senate wants, and Ki-Adi Mundi notes that since the Separatists aren’t involved, and since Satine has been so adamant on keeping Mandalore neutral in the war, the Senate will cheerfully leave her high and dry, and won’t sanction the Jedi sending anyone in to help her.

They want to help, but they can’t. So what do they do? Yoda and Ki-Adi Mundi call Obi-Wan in, have him watch this clip, and convey the political realities of the situation to him. They must know that Obi-Wan and Satine are still in love with each other. The two of them might have broken off their relationship many years ago, but it’s obvious to anyone with half a brain that they still have strong feelings for one another; it’s not like they do much to hide it.

And Obi-Wan acts as the Council must have been expecting him to act. He rushes off to Mandalore in a ship he borrowed from Anakin. That the ship he rides in on is literally falling apart tells me that he did not have the official sanction of the Jedi Council to do this; what he had was the Council temporarily going blind and deaf while he begged a ship off of Anakin and snuck off of Coruscant. Plausible deniability, and all that.

Plausible deniability for Obi-Wan acting from a place of attachment, making a decision incredibly risky both in terms of his own safety and just how easily he could have landed the Jedi Order in serious hot water if it ever got out that he had done this. The Jedi’s independence from the will of the Senate is gone at this point. Their only real function anymore, as far as the Senate is concerned (and since the Senate is holding the Order’s leash, they do get to make this call) is to serve as officers in the Republic army, and for Obi-Wan, a general, to have abandoned his post to intervene in internal affairs on a neutral world… I don’t know exactly how it would play out if that was discovered, but I can’t imagine it would go down well with the Senate. Jesus Christ, it would be such a scandal, and I feel like the Senate (nudged here and there by Palpatine) would have clamped down on the Jedi even harder as a result.

And Obi-Wan isn’t stupid. He knows this. He knows he’s risking his own safety. He knows he’s risking the Order being embroiled in scandal and its independence being eroded even further as a result. But he has to do it. He can’t not do it. It’s Satine. He has to go help her. Partly because, as far as he knows, no one else will, but also because he just can’t bring himself to leave her in those straits, even knowing how dire the consequences could be for the Order.

And on the other hand…

On the other hand, you see Obi-Wan displaying this extreme ‘ends justify the means’ mentality that enables him to be incredibly callous towards those same people he cares about when he feels the situation calls for it, and then double down afterwards when called out on it instead of validating the pain they felt because of his actions, thanks to that same mentality.

The classic one is the Original Trilogy, where Obi-Wan tries to set Luke up to commit patricide, and when called out on it, doubles down on it being necessary and doubles down on Anakin being irredeemable instead of apologizing for having lied to Luke and having, you know, set him up to kill his own father. In context of Return of the Jedi, we know that Obi-Wan (and Yoda, too, since he’s in on this as well) is dead wrong both about it being necessary for Luke to kill Anakin and about Anakin being beyond redemption, and in the moment, when we see Luke actually come close to killing his father, we know that it would have been the point of no return for him if he had done it. And even if Luke had killed Anakin without first being aware that he was his father, in so many of our own cultural traditions, including the ones that Lucas draws on in constructing the story of Star Wars—the obvious influences of Japanese films in the Original Trilogy, the Prequel Trilogy being like a Greek tragedy, so on and so forth—patricide is such a cursed act. Occasionally it doesn’t end in destruction for the person who killed their father, but usually, it does.

The conventions of storytelling demand that when someone unwittingly kills their parent, that there are massive repercussions of some kind when they inevitably find out what they did. Those repercussions vary, but can you really imagine Luke being okay if he killed Vader before the reveal, only to find out later who “Anakin’s murderer” really was? No, you can’t, can you, because he wouldn’t have been. That would have destroyed him. But Obi-Wan is able to square it away as justifiable, still, because the ends justify the means. The destruction of the Sith justifies Luke’s potential destruction, because the good of the galaxy must come first. The greater good of the galaxy comes before the well-being of those who fight for it, even those under Obi-Wan’s own care.

Then there’s everything about the Rako Hardeen arc, but specifically the fact that it was Obi-Wan’s idea, not the Council’s, that Anakin not be told that Obi-Wan had faked his death and gone undercover as his own murderer. There’s the fact that Obi-Wan wanted to keep Anakin in the dark specifically because they needed his unfeigned reaction to really sell the deception of being dead. Yes, really. Obi-Wan’s rationale for keeping Anakin in the dark about the fact that he hadn’t really been murdered was that they needed him to react a certain way. I’m not going to hold how flippant he was during the mission briefing too much against him, since I think it’s possible that his flippancy may have been meant to keep him from thinking too hard about how Anakin was taking things (Obi-Wan really does care a lot about Anakin, even if he’s also capable of hurting him very badly), but this whole scene, when taken in light of his “funeral”—which prominently includes a line-up of the four people he’s hurting most with this deception: Anakin (enough said), Ahsoka (who is also in the dark about the whole thing, and had the oh-so-pleasant experience of Obi-Wan “dying” in her arms), Satine (completely shattered, as you would expect), and Padmé (who seems completely stunned, though her reaction does get basically no spotlight)—is so very, very jarring. Upstairs are the people he’s hurt, and though I really do think his flippancy is some sort of mental defense mechanism against thinking about it too hard, it’s still quite unpleasant to watch. Even Yoda and Mace seem a little jarred by Obi-Wan’s flippancy, and neither one of them seem entirely sold on the idea that Anakin needs to stay in the dark about all of this (if only because they know him well enough by now to know that he is going to start shit if he’s kept in the dark for long enough), but onward, we proceed.

The arc goes about as well as you would expect for Anakin. He’s utterly traumatized and out for revenge, and this arc really does a lot of legwork to pushing him closer and closer to that point where he could fall to the Dark Side. When, at the end, Anakin finds out that not only was Obi-Wan alive the whole time and masquerading as his own murderer, but that it was Obi-Wan’s idea to keep Anakin in the dark the whole time, Anakin’s reaction is, as you would imagine, one of utter betrayal. And Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan doesn’t apologize. Obi-Wan doubles down on how it was necessary, trying to get Anakin to see the necessity of the deception, but Anakin’s not taking it. A new fissure has opened up in their relationship, one Obi-Wan isn’t making any moves to close, because to do so would require him to go up against his own “ends justify the means” mindset, would require him to really look at the hurt he’s caused Anakin in pursuit of the mission. Even if it was justified, he still hurt Anakin—a lot. He’s not making any moves to make amends, because that would require him to ask himself if the ends really do always justify the means.

The closest Obi-Wan ever gets to apologizing to Ahsoka for the Council’s role in the chain of events that led to her leaving the Order is telling her that the Council isn’t always right after she demands to know if Obi-Wan is really telling her to try and defend the Council’s decision to have Anakin spy on Palpatine to Anakin in Season Seven. He never apologizes for it in the moment, no matter what he might be feeling personally.

In Revenge of the Sith, Obi-Wan naturally doesn’t want to be the one sent to kill Anakin at first once it has been proven to him that Anakin has fallen to the Dark Side, but once he’s convinced that it’s necessary that he does it, he resolves himself completely. It’s very, very telling that when he goes to try and get Anakin’s location out of Padmé, Padmé’s first conclusion is that he wants Anakin’s location so he can go kill him. Not for one moment does Padmé think that Obi-Wan wants to know where Anakin is so he can try to talk sense into him, to try to convince him to turn aside from this dark path. She has no faith in him in that regard.

And when Obi-Wan does win the duel against Anakin, he just… just leaves Anakin to die of his wounds on Mustafar. Oh, yes, you can definitely make the argument that Obi-Wan couldn’t bear to kill Anakin outright, but the alternative… isn’t better. As far as Obi-Wan knows, he’s leaving Anakin to spend potentially the next several hours burning to death beside a river of lava, and it’s just a shockingly cruel moment. Yes, from a Doylist perspective, Anakin had to be left alive in order to be in the Original Trilogy, but from a Watsonian perspective, leaving Anakin to succumb to his injuries was a choice that Obi-Wan made, and killing him outright would have been a kinder one.

I know that there are people in this fandom who think that Obi-Wan could never fall to the Dark Side. I am not one of those people. For one thing, I do believe that anyone is capable of falling to the Dark Side. No one is above that. But for another, I think that Obi-Wan could fall because of this callous edge he has to his character, and because he never really examines in detail the impacts of his callousness on others. He’s very split by his deep care for his loved ones and this “ends justify the means” mentality that leads him to hurting those same loved ones deeply, and he never really reconciles these two halves of himself. He never examines his own capacity for ruthless callousness, and how it always seems to hurt his loved ones, instead of his enemies. There’s massive tension between these two parts of himself, and it’s never resolved.

I think that Obi-Wan’s “ends justify the means” mindset was fostered by the Clone Wars. It is the natural incubator for it, after all. I believe also that every Jedi who fought in the Clone Wars was corrupted by it somehow, in ways large or small, and this was how Obi-Wan was corrupted. I think it became easier for him over time to make these ruthless choices, became easier for him to listen neither to the voice of his own conscience nor the pain of those he cared about, because there was always a plot that had to be foiled, always a brutal battle that had to be fought, always a dirty choice that had to be made in order to preserve the Republic.

That is what Obi-Wan’s fall could have been. I don’t think the moment of his fall would have been as sudden or as dramatic as Anakin’s. While I don’t think he would have been cast in the same mold as Atris from KOTOR II—Obi-Wan definitely wouldn’t be meditating in a chamber full of Sith holocrons, that’s for damn sure—I think a fallen Obi-Wan would be Atris-adjacent, to some greater or lesser extent. It wouldn’t be one thing with him, it would be a hundred. His journey to the Dark Side would be small step after small step after small step that all feel the same as the very first one he took. Dirty choices he has to make in the name of the greater good over and over again, circumstances that reward his ruthlessness and punish listening to his conscience, the disconnect between his caring for his loved ones and just how much he hurts them sometimes getting wider and wider all the time, and as easy as it seems for him to ignore the voice of his conscience and the pain he causes other people in canon, I think it would get much, much worse over time in an AU where he falls to the Dark Side.

Obi-Wan would never become a Sith. His loyalty to the tenets of the Jedi Order is too strong for that. But he absolutely could become a fallen Jedi, one who, like Atris, would not be able to see that he had fallen until someone else came along who could really force him to look at himself and listen to himself, to examine the choices he’s made that have led him to this place. Cognitive dissonance in action. He’s acting in the name of the greater good of this galaxy, and thus his actions are ultimately justified, because he is acting towards a good end. Even when it breaks his heart.

And he can never look at the shadows cast by those actions, because it would call his whole life and everything he’s worked for into question.

#Star Wars #Star Wars The Clone Wars #Meta #Obi-Wan Kenobi #is honestly a much grayer character than most people give him credit for being #I feel like this is going to get me a lot of hate #but I needed to get my thoughts down #and I'm honestly interested in finding out if there are others who see Obi-Wan the same way I do #he really is just this very dissonant person

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feuqueerfire · 2 years

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Love and Leashes Live Blogging

I've heard it's wholesome and cute despite the subject matter + the femdom piqued my interest, so I'm giving it a watch despite the clip I saw on Twitter with the barking that kinda put me off (just not my thing).

Aug 30

Oh, the Korean title is 모럴센스 since is Moral Sense transcribed in Hangul

Office culture vibes killing me in the first few minutes already rip the sexism and being chill with homophobia

lol the mother talking about how a girl shouldn't confess first because men used to hunt and have the instinct to hunt/dominate. oh ma'am if you only knew what this movie was about

I like how steadfast and stoic Jiwoo is

In English Jung Jihoo (male) and Jung Jiwoo (female) sound similar but the w and h look quite different. In Korean, the spelling is even more similar 지후 and 지우. Jihoo just has that little hat

ngl wasn't expecting the finding a collar and a leash and a kink magazine before the 10 minute mark but this is fun

Yknow what I was expecting this Jihoo guy to be very endearing from the smiley poster of him I saw and so far, he really is

Ooh, I was wondering if she wasn't gonna think he's the dom since he's a man + the magazine had maledom. Seems like she does from this fantasy trance

HER MOTHER SEEING HER OUTSIDE THE KINK STORE i'd pass away right there

Jihoo's so clumsy ahh accidental text but he's so akldjf freaking awkward, the secondhand embarassmenttt

oh my goddd he misunderstood Jiwoo as saying she's also into BDSM and the way he's reacting is embarrassing enough but he just said "tbh, I could sense that from you" and I'm alkdjf why would you sayyy that. omg he just offered himself up :0

noooo Jiwoo's trying to not be overly nice to Jihoo even though she likes him and is also deeply annoyed by their sexist boss (mans is literally being patronizing to ppl like as a man, you should know how to grill and as a woman, you should know how to cut fruits to find a husband) but Jihoo thinks she's muttering about him instead of the terrible boss

nooo him crying because he likes her and thinks she finds him annoying :((( Anyway, I guess he's casually asking her to be his master (in a pure/innocent way lol) because he's so drunk

At the workplace? :0

the umbrella trope instead of showing chivalry/"as a man, I'll provide" displaying "how sincere [Jihoo] is to serve [Jiwoo] as [his] master" is so good. I was anticipating it when I saw the rain outside but klasdfj yay

30 mins

is this video planting the seed for a future conflict where they'll want both a BDSM and romantic relationship

foot kissing !! my love. I loved it in Why R U because it was kind of a submissive move from Fighter despite the fact that they weren't dom/sub but this time it acc is in a BDSM context. it's a fantasy I think but still

omg during their workplace blindfold interaction I was hoping she'd caress his hair but she finally did it here in the fantasy

ohhhh it wasn't just Jiwoo's fantasy but Jihoo's too

He's sooo endearing "Punish me? :D" "Why do you look so excited?" "O.O no not at all, I'm not"

I'm slightly confused about this rule that's like can't terminate contract without other's permission or whatever?? It shouldn't need both people to agree to terminate the contract, one person wanting to back out should be enough

Him tryna reassure her like "No touch. I don't have any naughty desire toward you :)" about sex but her being like hmph -_-

Bro they're gonna have their first scene and I'm so nervous/excited and Jihoo is too, idk how Jiwoo's keeping calm rn lol

Okay, pause before the scene actually because it's 12am and I have to be up at 8:15 tomorrow, so goodnight for now, to be finished tomorrow. Got to 37:15

Aug 31

i know he's gonna bark, do I watch or skip

Okay I muted it and skipped a bit (I know she gave him treats out of his hand), I just really don't like watching dog play stuff

omg terrible ass time, sucks that their first scene went like this

Him wearing the glasses was throwing me off, is this different than the ones she gave him for when he needed her orders?

Anyway watching het stuff is wild because I can just say he and she without specifying lol

Her saying "Does it hurt a lot?" when stepping and him saying "It's killing me" is a lot

I like how she also fantasizes about stepping on him

The scenes of them doing stuff at night in between the splices of them at the office during the day is so short but I still keep skipping the nsfw stuff, I think I can only handle watching a specific amount of live action nsfw stuff on specific days

You don't know how badly I want her to slap his face, that's a scene I def wouldn't skip

I read a spoiler that they get caught in the office and I don't know if it's about to happen now but I'm really nervous about it agh

okay, they didn't get caught

omg after Badhaai Do, this is the second piece of media this month that said "look down" while getting yelled at.

Oof, idk why it's taking me so long to finish this 2h movie but I'm at 1h 10

Sep 1

I'm freaking dead actually for real they're not only handcuffing themselves to each other in public, someone she knows (Hyemi) is spotting them T.T

okay whew bullet dodged For Now, miss girl got distracted

feeding :)

oh yeah, I read something about there being a terrible dom as well

naurrrr everything going wrong because of their handcuffs, I don't wanna watch T.T I hate public humiliation sm

k it was a small commotion, they glossed over it quickly

nooo seeing Hye Mi be like self-defense and clever while defeating the rapist mans but then breaking down in the car afterwards T.T + Saying there'd be no use going to the police and that she didn't actually take compromising pics of him like she said because it'd make her as bad as them

She calls him 정대리님, I was wondering what that ending particle was and google says it's just like "deputy" which I don't quite understand. I guess I'd learn if I watched more office kdramas

Ooh, nice juxtaposition of her cleaning and preparing the ropes while he bakes a treat for their scene

1h 33m O.O I wasn't expecting the face slapping but it did !!!!!

rip the last play ending on a sour ass note

naurrrrrrrrrr not the office finding out ?!?!!?!?!?!?!?! I knew they got caught but somehow to me that meant one supervisor found out and reprimanded them, not the mentee accidentally sending a recording to their whole fucking office gbye

the urge to just stop watching and watch later is so strong but i also wanna just get it over with omg like it's not even real why does fictional public or second-hand embarrassment affect me so much

I'm sat here all torn like okay I'm glad he's confessing his feelings but it's during a disciplinary meeting due to them having a scene at their office ummmm

Them smiling at each other in the elevator, I'll combust

Also, Hye Mi is so fucking beautiful like I didn't say so but wowie wow wowowowwow the most beautiful person in the movie

Jiwoo and Jihoo's biggest kink out of all the ones explored is 100% doing things in public

was not expecting this last minute barking T.T they're freaking cute though

Fun show, Jiwoo and Jihoo were endearing, and it was curious to see BDSM get explored outside of like the fics I've read over the years. They shallowly explored a whole lot of different aspects of the relationship without actually showing much or being titillating, was a rather tame but fun movie and it worked well for me because I don't really like watching NSFW sexy scenes in live-action stuff. Also, Hye Mi was so beautiful.

Some things made me uncomfortable but that was mostly my own issues (except that throwaway line about both people needing to agree to terminate the contract, I didn't like that). Most things I didn't like could be forgiven due to the fact that they gave me a guy getting his face slapped during an nsfw scene.

Rating: 6.5/10

#ep by ep commentary

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starcountesswritings · 2 years

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A Familiar Home

SPOILER ALERT: This takes place in Spiderman: No Way Home, if you have not seen the movie read at your own discretion. If you have seen the movie there is an obvious gap with Doc Ock that I had an idea to fill. Enjoy!

Otto stumbled as he rounded the corner, catching himself with both a mechanical and human arm on the side of the building as he paused to catch his breath. He couldn’t deny that this was unfamiliar, fleeing over rooftops and through dark alleys to outrun the police, but this time it felt different. Wrong even. But with the events of the last few hours he didn’t feel like he had a choice. This was not his world.

He limped forward, most of his body aching from the fight moments ago he was running from. Which again felt wrong but he was hurt and it had been a long time since he had to think this hard about controlling the actuators, they felt unwieldy and clumsy. Not that he wasn’t grateful for what Peter did, he thought as he brought a hand up to rub over the smooth new device on the back of his neck, he just needed some time. Time to process what had happened, time to get used to himself again.

Raising himself up on two of the arms he started walking, letting them do all the work to give his body a break. He didn’t have a destination in mind, instead just wandering down familiar yet oddly unfamiliar streets. The buildings look the same, the street names were right, it was him that was out of place here. Brought here by a spell. He shook his head, still in disbelief of the whole thing, this whole world. Magic here was real, and the technology here was more advanced than he could have dreamed of. That…what had Peter called it? An Arc Reactor? Such a tiny thing held all the energy he had been trying to produce in his failed experiment. If only Rosie could see him now.

The familiar sting of losing her hit him. She would not have approved of what he had become, but hopefully this would be a new chance for him to fix things. It still sent a chill through him to think that he had been mere moments away from death before being pulled here.

Reaching another corner Otto glanced up at the street sign to get some sort of bearing and was shocked to read the name of his street, or rather the street he lived on in his world. He couldn’t quite remember how he got here, maybe it was just muscle memory, but he found himself turning up the block anyway. A brief jolt of hope rose in his chest as he approached his brownstone, letting himself wonder if Rosie was still alive in this world, but he quickly pushed the thought away. If he didn’t exist here surely she didn’t. He still found himself pausing in front of the familiar building as a wave of regret washed over him. With a tired sigh he lowered himself to the steps, sinking down on them and resting for the first time since being thrown out the window of Peter’s apartment. It was as if all the aches and pains he had been ignoring decided to remind him about them all at the same time, he needed to find somewhere to get patched up and sleep it off.

“Um…are you okay?”

A soft voice made him look up, his eyes landing on you - keys dangling from one hand and a leash in the other. The German shepherd on the other end of the leash sat obediently next to you, its head tilting to the side as if assessing whether or not he was a threat. “Ah yes, sorry. I’m fine.” Dammit, he hadn’t expected anyone to be around this time of night, but it was New York City so he probably should have.

“Are you sure, you look like you’re bleeding.”

“Hmm?” Otto’s brows furrowed and he brought his hand to his head where you were motioning, surprised when the tips of his fingers came back tinged red. That would explain the headache. “It’s nothing, really.” He stood, the metal arms clinking behind him and assisting.

A shocked gasp escaped your lips as he stood and you took an involuntary step backwards. “You’re…from the tv…you were…the bridge.” You had seen the news clip at least a dozen times, anything Spiderman was hot news nowadays.

Otto felt his heart sink, of course you would be frightened. Another consequence of his former actions he would have to make up for later. He muttered an apology, stepping off the stairs with a limp to leave but a sharp pain in his side caused him to collapse against the rail with a hiss.

There was some instinct in the back of your mind telling you that you should probably run but the man in front of you didn’t seem at all like the news had portrayed him, which with how the news was really wasn’t all that surprising - the whole Spiderman versus Mysterio fight was being reported completely skewed to one side and it wouldn't surprise you at all if the footage from the bridge had been as well. You chewed at your bottom lip as your conscious tugged at you, if he had wanted to harm you he could have easily done so already and besides he didn’t look like he was in any shape to hurt even a mouse. Taking a deep breath you glanced down at your dog for backup, he hadn’t gone lunging at this man’s throat yet so that was a good sign.

“Wait, why don’t you sit back down and let me get you something from inside to clean that up? And maybe some Advil…”

Otto looked back at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion for a moment before waving you off. “Thank you but I’m fine. Don’t trouble yourself.”

"You're clearly not. And if it were trouble I wouldn't have offered. Just...wait. I'll be right back down, okay?" You tugged on your dog's leash and moved up the stairs but as you got to the door the leash went taught and you looked back to see him sitting on the top step, whining and pawing at the stone as the man sat back down.

"C'mon boy." You tugged at the leash but instead of a response from your dog, the man quickly turned to you with an incredulous look and you felt your face flush. "I meant the dog... not you …" You muttered, embarrassment keeping your face warm as you took a couple of steps back. To your surprise your dog took advantage of the extra leash length to happily trot back to the man, sniffing over one of the metal arms before moving onto the hand he held out.

"May I?"

It took you a moment to answer. "Uh...yeah, sure. If he'll…let…" The rest of your sentence trailed off as your dog happily accepted scratches behind his ear.

"What's his name?"

"Richard...because, well he's usually a dick to everyone but me…" This earned you a hearty laugh from him as he continued to scratch behind Richard's ears.

"Alright, um...I guess he can just...and I'll just..." You awkwardly motioned to the front door, beginning to take a step towards it but remembered the leash and turned. "Oh, right, can you take…" One of the metal arms rose and gently plucked the end of the leash from your hand. This was definitely climbing the ranks of the weirdest things that had ever happened to you.

At the front door you paused, hand on the doorknob like a cliche, as you looked back at the steps. No, don't be dumb. You thought, turning back to the door and gripping the handle harder. He's probably dangerous. Right? Your hand stubbornly refused to turn the knob and you found yourself looking back to them once more as Richard flopped onto his back for belly scratches. Ugh, okay fine. You gave in. Besides, it was cold and you really didn’t feel like coming back outside again.

"On second thought, why don't you come up. It would probably be much easier."

"What?" He looked at you in surprise for the second time that night. "No, no, no, absolutely not."

"Oh come on." You put a hand on your hip. "It would be much easier for you to just come up instead of me running up two flights of stairs and back down with whatever. And what if you need something else, then I'd have to do it over."

"I appreciate it but you don't have to go through all that trouble-"

"That's the point, it would be a lot less trouble for you to just come inside. C'mon bud, back me up." You gave Richard a look and he happily let out a short yelp, wagging his tail as his head swiveled between the two of you. "See, even he agrees."

Otto floundered for words but when he finally met your eyes he stopped. There was a kindness there that he hadn't seen in a long time, for a brief moment it reminded him of Rosie. "Alright." He agreed reluctantly, the aches in his body urging him on. "For a moment."

A few minutes later and you were pacing in your small kitchen, waiting for your cup of coffee to brew as you continued questioning what the hell you were doing. Otto, as you had just learned, had squeezed into the bathroom with what you hoped had been enough medical supplies to actually help him.

"What?" You questioned as Richard lay just outside the door, unsure if he should be watching you or the bathroom. "I know, I know, you like him. Don't know what made you make up your mind so quickly." All you got in response was a head tilt, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he watched you happily.

The sudden sound of the bathroom door opening had you both turn. It was almost comical watching him shuffle through the narrow hallway, everything looked so small next to him - he was a large man to begin with and the metal arms only made that more apparent.

“Was there enough? Supplies, I mean.” You spotted a bandage over one eye where he had been bleeding earlier and he had an obvious limp. It must have been one hell of a night.

“Ah, yes. Thank you. All patched up. Well the same can’t be said for the shirt though.” He chuckled as he came into the kitchen, motioning toward the black turtleneck he had been wearing that was now draped over his arm. The trenchcoat he was wearing still covered most of him but your eyes immediately dropped to his bare torso. You noticed what looked like a bruise forming across his broad chest but the large metal apparatus around his waist drew more of your attention. You assumed that it had something to do with the metal arms but it looked painful, there was obvious scarring and you wondered what would make someone do that to themselves. At some point you realised you must have been staring and quickly averted your gaze, glad the coffee maker finally dinged to give you a distraction.

“Okay, good, I probably have a needle and thread around here somewhere I could sew it up with, too. And coffee, I just made coffee if you like, it’s not decaf but I have that too, or tea, I can make tea.” You were definitely rambling as you reached for the mug, something you did when you got flustered.

“No, but thank you. You’ve done more than enough already. I should be going.”

“Are you sure? Cause, no offense, but you look like you could use some…”

Otto opened his mouth to decline again but promptly shut it as the fresh scent wafted over to him. Accepting the mug with a small nod he took a long sip, savoring the warmth trying to remember the last time he had a cup. He took a moment to give you a once over as you bustled about getting another cup down, the homey feeling of the moment catching him off guard as you again reminded him of Rosie. Pushing the thought aside he took another sip to distract himself. "Are you always this welcoming to strangers?"

"Oh believe me, I've been asking myself that too." You chuckled. "But if he ," you motioned with your head at your dog. "Is okay with you then I am too." Damn, that sounded better in your head.

An awkward silence followed, one you found yourself increasingly uncomfortable in. “So, um…are they…do they…how do they work?”

Otto tapped the back of his neck. “With this chip. Nano wires feed directly into my cerebellum allowing me to control them.”

“Wow, that actually works? Well, of course it does, obviously. It’s just, that’s…amazing.”

“One would assume it is.” Otto’s voice sounded tired and he let out a heavy sigh.

“Oh?”

“Let’s just say mistakes were made.”

“...something to do with the fight on the bridge? It was all over the news, but anything to do with Spiderman or Peter Parker is these days.”

“Another regrettable mistake.”

“I guess mistakes landed you on my front stairs?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes, well in another world they were my front stairs.” Otto smiled ruefully as he brought one of the metal arms up to take the now empty mug and place it gently on the counter.

“Oh, you used to live here?”

“That, my dear, is a long story you would likely find hard to believe.”

“Try me.” Your smile turned into a laugh as Otto raised a brow at you. “What! I have coffee and a couch. Unless you have someone else’s steps to go brood on in the middle of the night?”

Otto gazed at you for a long moment. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, not that you knew that, and while this wasn’t his home the space was familiar enough to be comforting after the events of the day. “Alright, but we’re going to need more coffee.”

“I can do that.” You grinned.

You listened intently as Otto explained about the house in another universe, his experiment, how he ended up here, how Peter helped fix him. He had been right, most of what he was telling you was hard to believe. Maybe if this had been a few years ago before the Avengers and aliens attacks and the blip happened you might not have believed him, but as it was an alternate universe wasn’t that hard of a stretch to accept. There were a few points you could tell he was glazing over but they seemed sad or painful to talk about so you didn’t push. You couldn’t deny you felt sorry for him, any question of letting him into your apartment was gone, and you wished there was more you could do but you were just you. Normal you. Although when you said as much he assured you again that you had been more than accommodating but as you got up to put the mugs in the sink you still felt a little useless.

Otto watched you walk off, knowing he was probably overstaying his welcome but his body felt heavy and his eyes felt tired despite the coffee. He relaxed into the cushion, the metal arms adjusting accordingly around him, and leaned his head back. He could hear dishes clinking around from the kitchen so he figured he had a few moments to close his eyes before he got up to go. You had been so nice to him, more than he deserved, and had listened so sweetly as he had talked to you. He wouldn’t have guessed beforehand that it would feel so nice to get it all off his chest and talk to someone about it. And you had been so nice…just like Rosie…

When you walked back in, Otto was fast asleep with Richard comfortably curled up on the couch next to him. You couldn’t say you were surprised, sleep tugged at the corners of your eyes as well, but your mind was still reeling with everything he had just told you and even if you laid down you probably weren’t going to be able to sleep just yet. Grabbing a blanket from nearby you quietly crossed over to him and laid it over him, hoping he wouldn’t wake while you did so. You paused for a moment to give your traitorous dog some scratches before taking his torn turtleneck off a metal arm and heading to your bedroom, might as well fix it while you still had some energy.

The sound of running water woke Otto and he started, looking around at his surroundings in mild panic before he remembered what happened last night. If he was still here then it meant he dozed off last night and judging by the light coming in it was close to noon. Well shit.

“Morning!” Your bright voice made him turn as you came out from the kitchen, towel over your shoulder. “Well, afternoon really. Good thing I had today off.”

“Apologies, I did not mean to...um…” He gestured to the couch as a sudden wave of embarrassment came over him.

“Not a problem, really. And I mean, after what you told me last night it’s not like you had anywhere else to go.”

“No, but I shouldn’t have imposed on you without-”

“Please.” You raised your hand to cut him off. “Don’t worry about it. But if you want to do something to make it up you can take the dog out. I’m sure he’d love that, he spent the whole night on the couch with you, the traitor.”

“I think I can manage that.” Otto chuckled.

“Great, the leash is by the door, I’m going to start some food cause I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Oh, and I fixed your shirt, might want to throw that on before you go out. Okay, thanks!” You disappeared back into the kitchen before he could protest or apologize about anything else. A few minutes later you heard the front door open and you took a deep breath. This definitely wasn’t what you thought your day off was going to be like but at least it was interesting and had officially topped your chart of weirdest things that had ever happened to you.

The food was already done when Otto returned, you had actually started to wonder if he had decided to make off with your dog, and you ate in relative silence, both of you still tired and neither quite sure what to talk about anyway. To give the two of you some background noise you turned the TV on and were immediately assaulted by the loud voice of J. Jonah Jameson reporting. You rolled your eyes and were just about to change the channel when Otto put a hand on your arm.

“...well go on Peter, tell us!”

The video cut to what appeared to be a facetime call with Peter Parker, mask off but the rest of him was decked out in his Spiderman attire.

“...I brought them here…” Peter went on with an apology then to both yours and Otto’s surprise, an offer. From your conversation last night you knew the box Peter was waving around was what would take Otto, and the others, back to their universe and found it strange he was taunting them with it.

“Oh my stars! Is that the Statue of Liberty?!” You cried out, shocked. Otto didn’t seem to notice your reaction, or at least didn’t acknowledge it, but instead rose from his seat.

“I have to go.”

You looked between him and the TV for a moment before switching it off, your expression melting to one of concern. “For the box, right?”

“Yes, and I believe young Peter is getting himself in over his head. He doesn’t know Norman like I do.”

“I…understand.” You rose as well, trying to ignore the sudden shift of mood in the room. You had only met him last night but a knot of worry was forming in your stomach that you had to fight down.

“Thank you, for everything. Your kindness isn’t often found in the world.” Otto felt like he should say more but words escaped him. A part of him wanted to stay here, to get to know this incredible world better. You better. But this was not his world, and he had mistakes to make up for in his own.

“No worries.” You smiled thinly. “Just glad I could help.”

Otto nodded and turned to leave but before he got to the door you caught up, grabbing his upper arm to stop him. “Wait!” Suddenly realizing what you had done you lowered your hand. “Just…be careful, okay?”

He wasn’t sure what came over him at that moment. Maybe it was the compassion you had shown him, or the way your brows were knitted that reminded him of how Rosie used to worry, or knowing that what he was about to go do was going to be extremely dangerous. Whatever it was when you looked back up at him he grabbed your upper arms and pulled you to him to press his lips to yours in one swift motion. He felt you stiffen against him for a brief moment but then your lips were moving against his and your hands were on the front of his coat pulling him to you.

It lasted only seconds before Otto broke away, quickly turning to the door and leaving without another word. You knew it was for the best - after what he had told you last night you knew you were probably never going to see him again but it was that very reason that made your heart ache a bit. With a heavy sigh you turned back to the kitchen, those dishes weren’t going to wash themselves after all.

#Doc Ock #doc ock x reader #one shot doc ock #Doctor Octopus #Doctor Otto Octavius #otto octavius #Doctor Octavius #Doctor ock

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