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sp0o0kylights · 28 days

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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds.

Still.

Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’

Nope.

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”

Likely a lot of things.

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”

Wayne nodded once, slow-like.

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”

“I did.”

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.

Wayne took advantage.

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”

“‘Bout trust.”

Eddie blinked at that.

“Trust.” He echoed flatly.

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.

Wayne sat with him as he processed.

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;

“What if he finds out?”

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.

It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’

“He won’t.” Wayne said.

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.

Hurt, absolutely, but alive.

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.

Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.

“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

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catboy-scott-agenda · 3 months

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it's genuinely really cool to see all the people who are getting into joel's content now that he's joined hermitcraft. as a long time joel enjoyer, i think it's great that people are discovering his stuff outside of the life series (which, as much as i enjoy, doesn't properly show off his personality) and falling in love with it the way i did all those years back.

#i had a two or so year period where i didn't really watch mcyt (before i got into the empires sphere)#joel was the only exception #part of me thinks that i wouldn't be in this fandom if not for him #hell his empires pov was the first one i watched #(which is a terrible introduction to the series but i think that's hilarious personally)#sorry for going on a tangent here in the tags but my point stands #hermitcraft #hermitcraft season 10 #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #hermitcraft joel #<- absolutely insane that this is a legitimate tag now

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towerofluin · 7 months

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SBI Whumptober Day 9: Burn Wound & Day 12: Hiding an Injury

this was a very quick piece buuuuut its inspired by a conversation anarchy-and-piglins had a couple months ago (I think) about how techno would have been hurt in the blast at the red festival too, and how he didnt really have any allies at the time so he would have had to deal with it himself

#and by very quick i mean less than half my normal draw time #art #fanart #digital art #mcyt #dsmp #technoblade #technoblade fanart #sbi whumptober #gore cw #dsmp fanart #whump #ask to tag #bc im not sure what else sorry #originally Wilbur was supposed to come over and help him and it was gonna be a whole comic but then i rewatched this part of technos pov and #man was having a great time lmao #i watched tubbos pov when it first happened and he was having a great fuckin time too #also ik the burn looks off but i was just basing it off personal memory i wasnt gonna look anything up lol #plus trying to show off burnt and singed fur?? idk

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aroaessidhe · 3 months

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2024 reads / storygraph

The Jinn-Bot of Shantiport

set in a cyberpunk Calcutta-inspired city, loosely inspired by Aladdin

chaotic monkey bot who wants to fight in underground mecha/bot tournaments and leave to become a space hero

his human sister, the daughter of failed revolutionaries who has been working her whole life to free their city from oppression and inequality, especially with the recent rumors that their planet is scheduled for destruction

and an old unearthed bot whose function is to observe & record the story of a client who meets the siblings and quickly becomes involved in their lives

and a treasure hunt to find an old and powerful piece of alien tech that has the power to radically change their city

#The Jinn-Bot of Shantiport #aroaessidhe 2024 reads #I really loved this #a little robot with a big personality? TWO of them? im in.#The pacing is a bit weird - the first half could honestly be a contained novella. the second half is a bit all over the place #But I’m ultimately glad to have that extra more complex part of the story #it’s like very action packed with a few dense moments especially like the infodumps about what Lina / her mother’s deal is.#which kinda makes sense on a technical level (Moku learning this all at once) but also I definitely felt a bit confused at why/how some of #the stuff that was going on was happening #I did also find every now and then weirdly worded prose took me out of it? but I can look past that #I felt the side romance was random and weird. I felt like it did a disservice to her otherwise complex character to have her just forget #her goals and values because Hot Man?#idk. it’s lampshaded a bit by being viewed through the POV who also thinks it is weird and makes no sense #but they still get together again in the end…. I would have preferred if they didn’t.#that's mostly complaints LOL but the world is so rich and interesting and i love robots that are little shits (affectionate)#queer books

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rainbowsandwhumperflies · 4 months

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The Winged Servant - 1

Content warnings: shock collar, starvation, dehumanization, lmk if i forgot anything!

taglist: @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts

masterlist

Some things in life were impossible to get used to, things that could repeat themselves every day and still surprise you every time.

Shock collars were one of those things.

Look at you, all collared up. What a pretty way to remind you that you aren’t human, Her Majesty had said the first time. And I- well, of course I was grateful that someone like her was willing to help me improve and become better at serving humans like her.

I just never really got used to it.

That’s why it was so effective, I thought. The royal family all seemed to feel that it was very effective, anyway, and it worked.

It felt too early, this morning, to be woken up from a shock to my collar, but it felt too early every morning. I started awake, pulling myself off the floor and out of my room. Whether it was early or not wasn’t my decision to make regardless, I reminded myself as I made my way to the kitchen.

“Morning,” Jayden told me, pushing a tray of food into my hands before I’d even noticed him in my line of sight.

“Good morning, sir,” I said around a yawn, and he smiled.

‘I know it’s early, I’m sorry. She’s got some big thing today that she’s making everyone else’s problem. Get that breakfast to her and do your best to stay out of her way after, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Those were very similar to the things I did even when she was in a good mood. I didn’t tell Jayden that part.

Getting the breakfast to Her Majesty was the easy part. The harder part was ignoring the food on the tray. Two pieces of toast with melted butter and strawberry jam, a small bowl of grapes, a fried egg, and a glass of orange juice. She had the same breakfast every morning. She’d notice if I took anything, but that didn’t matter, because I wouldn’t have taken anything anyway, because good servants only eat when they’re told to, no matter how hungry they are.

That’s why I hadn’t eaten last night. To teach me a lesson after I’d misinterpreted a command from one of the princes. But I was learning. Becoming a better servant every day, according to Her Majesty.

I took a deep breath outside of her door. Jayden had said she had a busy day ahead of her, which usually put her in a bad mood. Hopefully, I was a good enough servant not to make it any worse.

PS: if you're interested in seeing my growth as an author, the first time I wrote this piece it was this on my old blog

#we're actually gonna continue this story a lil further than i did on my old blog though. probably #rainbow's whump #rainbow's ocs #the winged servant #onyx tag #jayden tag #whump #whump writing #whumpee #shock collar #the next part of this is written but not edited but i'm planning on editing it sooooooon #first person pov

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catsafari25 · 5 months

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A/N: Hello! This is my first foray into bionicle fic, where I wanted to explore a possible line of reasoning that Roodaka might have used to turn Vakama against the Rahaga specifically... and then this became a Roodaka-POV fic because villainous POVs are so muxh fun to write (plus it makes it distinct from the book version).

Please forgive any glaring inaccuracies; until a week ago, I'd only ever seen the films and am still familiarising myself with the lore/other content!

Roodaka almost doesn't recognise the creature her Visorak bring to her.

Almost.

There is more the monster than the Matoran, more the Rahi than the Toa, about the once-warrior now, and the two sides war in odd ways across the ensuing form. The limbs are elongated, but erratically; one side might almost be called Toa-like if one was feeling generous, while the other ends in a wicked-looking blazer claw. The mask bears the least resemblance to its former shape, a mockery of the Great Kanohi it had once been.

"Alone, you say?" she asks the Visorak.

It bows its head in the best approximation its spidery form can muster, and chitters in its gnashing tongue a tale of a single Toa Hordika wandering far from its pack. Then, after a dubious pause, it asks if it should send word to the King.

"No."

More chittering, nervous now.

Roodaka snaps her head away from the unconscious Toa. "Do you doubt me?" she hisses.

The Visorak shakes, as if knowing all too well that any alternative answer will lead to a rapid drop in its quality of life, followed by the abrupt cessation of it. It instinctively lowers itself to the ground, reassuring her it knows exactly how far down it hangs in the pecking order.

Roodaka is mollified enough to let the infraction pass. "Why bring Sidorak back for one captured Toa when he is still in pursuit of the other five?" she croons. Fear works wonders, but a pinch of reason never does any harm. "Better to let him focus on the task at hand, and have this as a pleasant surprise upon his return."

The Visorak doesn't respond immediately. Then, in as careful tones as its speech will allow, asks what is to be done with the Toa.

What to be done, indeed?

A more cautious Vortixx than she might harvest the elemental power now – one fewer strand in her web to tie up later – but, then again... he is only one Toa, and she needs all six for her scheme to succeed.

"Keep him somewhere he won't cause trouble," she orders. And then, "No cocoons. I want him to be able to wake eventually."

After all, live bait is always a better lure.

The Toa returns to consciousness the same way he left it: alone.

So much for their precious unity, Roodaka scorns. The reports from the Visorak tell of the other Toa moving across Ga-Metru, with apparently no looking back for their missing companion. Is it confidence in his capabilities that leaves them unaffected, or something more... fractured?

Either way, she is left with a Toa on her hands, alive and kicking and doing precious little to serve as the bait he should have been.

That's fine. She can work with this.

Awake, the Toa's reaction to the Hordika venom is ever more marked; his movements are capricious, tarnished with that feral fear of a caged Rahi, and there is little left of the tactician leader the Toa had once been.

So she leaves him to it. Sidorak is not due back yet – not unless he captures the other Toa, and the whispers that reach Roodaka tell of a merry chase – so she has time. Let the Toa wallow in his fear and his desperation for a little while longer. Let him descend further into his rage.

She can wait.

It is only once the howls begin that Roodaka makes her approach.

She has heard the like before, when an ash bear had fallen into a freshly-made crevice, courtesy of the quakes, and broken a limb. It had howled all through the night, calling for its kin and only summoning the Visorak instead.

The howls hadn't lasted long after that.

The howls of the Toa are similarly primal, gutteral with a wordless rage that sends him reeling in its wake. Only when she hears his horrified, "What is happening to me?" that she realises she is surprised to hear speech still remains. If the venom keeps up its course, it may not be long before even that is gone.

An idea takes root, insidious and brutal if she can pull it off. After all even a beast, if it retains some semblence of language, can be reasoned with.

Or manipulated.

He was found alone, her Visorak had told her. And alone he still was. A strange state of affairs for a Toa... but perhaps not so much for a Hordika.

"You are becoming," she rattles.

The Toa scoffs, ire curdling the sound. "Yeah, but what?"

She steps into the light. The Toa keeps his gaze averted as she nears, evidence enough that the Hordika in him knows not to challenge with a stare. She crouches before him, one claw catching the base of his mask and tilting his eyes to meet hers. The eyes, she sees, still carry a Toa spark. The rest is Hordika. "A friend," she offers.

He snarls and tears his gaze away.

"Or a foe," she adds. She rises back to her full height. "That's for you to decide, and why I invited you here."

"Some invitation."

She surveys her captive. Hordika venom is such a messy process, Roodaka can't help but judge. It lacks the finesse, the cruel creativity of her own power, changing at random what would be better done with intent.

Still, she cannot fault its effectiveness. It might be a sledgehammer to her chisel, but in a matter of days it has reduced the Toa responsible for trapping the Makuta into something belonging to a Matoran's nightmare.

"Then perhaps this one will be more to your liking," she says. "I have a... proposal for you."

"And if I don't want to hear it?"

Roodaka smiles, and approaches the Toa once more. From this proximity, she can appreciate the subtler touches of the Hordika venom – the joints that fit at odd angles, the crude connection between the Rhotuka spinner and armour – and as she brings his gaze to meet hers once more, she sees rust-flecked spots across his mask. A side effect of the mask losing its powers? Or a consequence alone of the Hordika venom?

"Be reasonable, Vakama," she croons.

"How do you know my name?"

Her hand dips from the mask and lingers before his heartlight. It's green, she notes; a far cry from the burnished red that had once matched his eyes. A sign, perhaps, that her plan has merit. After all, if the venom has already taken root there, it's only a matter of time before it spreads further.

"I know a great deal about you," she says, and cleaves a claw through the webbing that binds him. "What harm could come from listening?"

And when she tips his gaze again, he does not look away.

While fools might prattle on about the power of love or loyalty as a driving force, Roodaka knows power itself is the strongest motivator of all. And so she speaks to the fragmented Toa of strength and fear and authority; things she knows the once-leader has fought with himself. As a show of her own confidence, she allows him to trail behind, and only once does she hear the whirr of his spinner warming up.

("I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Vakama," she had warned without even glancing to him.)

("Then perhaps you should know better than to turn your back on someone," he had replied. "What's to stop me blasting you off the face of Metru Nui?")

(She had gestured almost lazily to the Visorak guard trailing them. "You can try, if you so wish. But how far do you think you'll get before you're trapped in another web?" She had waited for this thought to sink in before adding, "Who knows what another round of Hordika venom would do the second time? That is, assuming you ever wake.")

The Rhotuka spinner quietened after that, and Roodaka hasn't heard it since. Just enough sense left in him, then, to listen to reason. And listen he does, albeit not without complaint.

She wasn't lying when she said she knew about him – from the whispers of Makuta, from the reports of the Visorak, she knows enough to know where the Toa's insecurities lie. She brings him to a balcony that overlooks his old home.

Ta-Metru still glows with the light of fires and molten protodermis, but rather than forges and foundries hard at work, it is the result of cracked furnaces and flooded lava that raises such smoke. Still, there is enough to leave the Toa scrambling to the edge to catch just a glimpse of his metru.

In better times, it would have been his to protect, the same way the Toa of Fire before had, but now it is only a place to be fled. So she offers him the chance to change that, talks of leading the Visorak to rule rather than ruin.

And when she orders her own guard plummeting over the edge and they follow – not because they trust her, not because they think she has a plan, but purely because not following is a worse fate than an almost-certain death – she knows she has his attention. "Obediance," she proclaims. "This is but the first of many lessons I can teach you."

The Toa hesitates. But not as much as he ought to. "And this is something your king would allow?"

"There is a way," she purrs. "Six ways."

She senses something shift then, the balance of the conversation tipping in her favour as a wall, somewhere, comes tumbling down.

And when Vakama looks to her, it isn't the gaze of a Toa, but of a Hordika.

"I'm listening."

"Good." Roodaka starts towards the main body of the tower, and only hears the slightest falter before Vakama follows after her. His shambling gait is still the noisy thing it was before, but now there is a pattern to it. A natural rhythm.

"If you wish to gain Sidorak's trust, you must prove yourself," she says. "The Rahaga have been a thorn in Sidorak's side for too long; deliver them, and he will surely see your worth."

The Toa stills. "The... Rahaga?" There is hesitation in his voice, as if even he is surprised that his response is not the outright refusal it once would have been. "What have they done?"

"They are meddlesome creatures, as I'm sure you've discovered, too fond of interfering where they don't belong."

"Like saving your captives from certain death?" he asks.

Roodaka smiles, and ignores the bite in the question. "Do you think they rescued you for anything but their own purposes?" she returns. "Or are you blind enough to think it was purely an act of selfless generosity?"

A growl rises through the Toa, and she hears him continue behind her. "What are you saying?"

"Only that if they were rescuing you solely from an untainted sense of duty, then where are they now?" Roodaka glances back and reads the defensive hitch of the Toa's shoulders. "Where are any of your friends, Vakama?"

"Like I would tell you–"

"You don't need to. I know where they are. The question is: Do you?"

Vakama doesn't meet her gaze. "If you're thinking that I'm expecting any sort of great rescue–"

"I never said anything of the sort," Roodaka croons. She doesn't need to. By the sound of things, his mind is already doing it for her, wondering when the other Toa will realise he's not coming back. Wondering if they will even care. "Only, how sure are you that they will follow their duty without you to guide them?"

"Toa are bound to their duty," Vakama begins.

"Of course. As they are to their unity." Roodaka gives this a moment to sink in to the lone Hordika Toa. "And their destiny."

The once-Toa of Fire has no reply to that, and that is all Roodaka needs to know the truth of their origins have come to light. She steps out onto a neighbouring balcony, but Vakama lingers in the archway.

She motions to him. "Come along."

He begrudgingly does so, and his gaze finds little of interest in the waterway metru below. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Because this is where your friends are."

Vakama takes a second look at Ga-Metru, overrun with webs but presumably still recognisable from its better days. His head tilts, his eyes narrow. "Ga-Metru? Why...?"

"My Visorak say the Rahaga are leading them to the Great Temple," Roodaka relays, and this indeed is true enough. "They say the Rahaga are seeking an ancient Rahi, the next steps of which they hope to find within the temple."

"Keetongu," Vakama mutters.

"Yes."

Vakama wars with this knowledge, the conflict clear in his silence and his mask. Then, in a halting, hating tone, "The Matoran–"

"Are not the Rahaga's priority," Roodaka finishes. "Don't you see that, now? Why else would they turn the other Toa away from their duty the moment you weren't there to remind them? All they want is to chase after a Rahi myth, and with the help of Toa, they finally have the strength to do so." She sets a clawed hand upon his shoulder, anchoring him. "The Rahaga are not all they appear, Vakama."

A scoff rises through the Toa. "They are old and weak."

"They were not always so," she says. "Once, they were Toa like you, until their meddling left them as the malformed creatures they are now. That is why they truly seek Keetongu; they believe he has the power to undo their change."

It is a half truth, but one supported by enough that the Toa has no reason to doubt her. He has no way to know Roodaka's powers were the catalyst of the Rahaga's transformation, nor that nothing – no mythical Rahi, no Kanohi power – can unravel their altered forms.

Her hand tightens. "Or perhaps you've already begun to suspect the truth?"

A tremor in his breathing betrays that questions of the Rahagas' origins have crossed his mind before, but only now is he realising the possible ramifications of it. "They want to find Keetongu for themselves," he snarls.

"And they need the support of the other Toa to do it," Roodaka says. "Now do you understand? They are not your allies, Vakama; they are parasites. And you know what should be done with parasites."

"Yes," he growls. "I do."

#bionicle #lego bionicle #cat writes #also written in present tense because i find that easier for some reason w/ emotions #this was mostly fuelled by 'what if roodaka revealled part of the rahaga's origins and convinced vakama they were using the toa?'#thus making his first step down this path one that isn't inherently lashing out at his team #but will make returning to the light that much more difficult #also discovering that roodaka's power is mutation really put fuel on the fire for this #i love the idea of her seeing the toa hordika not just as mutated toa #but as a variation on her abilities #part of her dissecting the changes and judging them #i also like writing scheming characters who have a pov with an aggressively agendaed take #anyway idk if ill post this elsewhere #i also want to explore the idea that roodaka sent vakama to the great temple for not just kidnapping the rahaga #but also to drive another wedge between him and his destiny #since entering the great temple will feel Wrong to him #and if nokama hasnt shared her experience then he might just take it personally #okay enough rambling in the tags #if you got this far: congrats!#feel free to shout at me about bionicle

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snowangeldotmp3 · 1 year

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dear barb;

hello hello >:) i come bearing a letter. general warning: this is in first person, because there's no way else to write a letter...so if first person pov is not your thing, kindly keep scrolling! <3 i'll be uploading this to ao3 too, if anyone feels more comfy reading it there!

i don't do taglists, but dio asked so kindly to be tagged so!! @flowercrowngods !! <3 now, onto the letter!

barb,

i don’t know why i’m writing this. max said it helped, and i miss talking to you, so here we are. i brought you some flowers. tulips, your favorites. i don’t even know if you can hear me, wherever you are, i hope you can. i hope it’s nice.

a lot has changed since that night. they found will, they found another girl too. they built a mall, then it got destroyed. then hawkins got split in half.

there’s a lot that’s changed, not just in hawkins, but everything. i’ve changed. for worse or for better, i’m not sure i know yet.

i broke up with steve. turns out we weren’t good for each other, and i wasn’t really myself when i was with him. you knew that, too. you were right about him, about me.

i guess you also know about the upside down. i won’t have to sugar coat anything.

we tried to find you, by the way. jonathan and i. we went out in the woods trying to hunt the monster that got will and got you, too. we thought if we found it and killed it, we’d find both of you.

we were wrong. i’m sorry. i should’ve listened to you. maybe if i had you’d still be here. or maybe if we had never gone to steve’s house at all. maybe we could’ve avoided all of this.

you want to know something really selfish? when will came back, i was angry. god, i was so, so angry. i mean, i was glad that jonathan got his brother back and that mike had his best friend back but…i don’t know. i couldn’t stay in the room long, it hurt too much. to know that they got their friend back but i couldn’t get mine. it didn’t make sense. it wasn’t fair. they were allowed to get their best friend back but mine was dead because of me. you weren’t coming back. we wouldn’t have anymore sleepovers and movie nights and study sessions. you were gone.

gone. gone. gone.

i waited until i got home before i started crying. i didn’t want mike to see me upset after his best friend came back. i ran upstairs, locked the door, grabbed an old sweater that you left at my house and cried until i threw up. i still have the sweater. it was the one you gave me on halloween in ’82, when it got so cold it snowed.

after that everything was blurry for a little bit. numb. i turned sixteen and didn’t even care because we made plans for that and you weren’t there. my mom tried to make a big deal out of it, but it wasn’t the same. i needed you.

i still need you.

then your birthday came up, in the summer. you were supposed to turn seventeen. i don’t think i even got anything done that day. mom thought i was sick but i just kept playing every moment back in my head. every movie night, every sleepover, every phone call—all the way up to knowing you were gone. to knowing i couldn’t call you that day and say “happy birthday,” because there was nobody to call.

it was also the same day i decided that whoever did this to you, whoever created the upside down, needed to pay. i know i can’t ever really give you justice, but i can try. the lab—the ones who created all of this—got shut down. we had to water the story down though, had to say that it was a chemical spill that killed you. not a monster from another dimension.

not that it was me.

we had a funeral for you. i couldn’t stay there too long, either. it hurt too much. The funeral and the fact that you weren’t even in the casket. it was a nice funeral though, the parts that i stayed for. i left before they lowered the casket in. i didn’t want to say goodbye to you, even if i knew you weren’t even in there, it just made it too real.

i still think about that night. i think about how i should’ve listened to you and that maybe we could’ve stopped it and maybe then you would’ve graduated with the rest of us, instead of rotting in the upside down. how maybe we would’ve gone to the same college like we had planned to do. how we would’ve gone to prom. how we would’ve celebrated your eighteenth, how you’d had that planned for years, and how we were supposed to celebrate it together.

how you’re sixteen forever.

how i should’ve listened to you. how it should’ve been me instead. how maybe i could’ve stopped it. i used to spend every night hoping, praying, that it was all just a bad dream and that i would see you at school the next day. that you weren’t gone, you were still here with me. i’d spend those nights wrapped up in your sweater sobbing, wishing that it would take me too. i didn’t know what to do without you. but i kept going, even if i hadn’t wanted to.

i killed the son of a bitch who did it. partially, at least. i had help from a girl with superpowers, which is…a crazy sentence to write, but, it’s true. we took him down. made him pay. i just wish we hadn’t had to do it at all, you know? i wish that we could’ve been normal teenagers and you would’ve been there to see it.

i didn’t make friends for a long time. not until recently. her name is robin. she reminds me a lot of you, actually. not that i’m replacing you, you can’t be replaced. she said that you guys were friends before we were, which is insane to me. maybe that’s why we work, she’s so similar to you anyway, it almost feels like you’re still here. she’s like another connection to you, someone who actually remembers you. someone who actually knew you. maybe in another life we could’ve all been friends. i like to think we would’ve been. i would’ve liked that.

i’m leaving you with an old photo of us, the ones we took at that little kiosk in that mall in Terre Haute, so you’ll have a little of me with you. there were two copies, one for me, and one for you. i know those were your favorites, and i hate to think that you’d be lonely wherever you are, so I’m leaving these with you.

i’ll write you another letter sometime, it might be a while before the next one, but for this, i really just wanted to say; i’m sorry. i should’ve listened to you.

i’m sorry. i wish you were here. it should’ve been me.

i miss you.

i love you

yours always, nancy.

#:)#i wanted this to be both nancy's guilt and grief but also a part of her is still holding back just a teensy tiny bit.#i hope that comes across #my writing #nancy wheeler #stranger things #it's in italics to show that it's in fact a letter and i'm not just writing in first person pov lol #dear lucas...ur next

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weregonnabecoolbeans · 1 month

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Update on how reading Thrawn: Alliances is going

I am s t r u g g l i n g to finish it..im barely past halfway

#to those of you who warned me..i should have listened to you #yall were right it really isnt the same as that first book #i'm still gonna finish it though because i have the uncontrollable need to learn everything i can about my hyperfixations #i really like the clone wars era flashbacks...but every time it switches back to the empire era stuff i get bored and put it down #so far my favourite parts have been:#anakin being a dumbass trying to hide the real nature of his relationship with padme from thrawn #vader being a dumbass worrying about whether or not thrawn knows he is anakin #vader being a delusional dumbass referring to anakin as a separate person even IN HIS MIND #vader shutting down every mention of anakin by just saying #anakin skywalker is dead #and thrawn being like #sure jan #the chapters ive liked the most though are the ones from padmes pov....i wish there was more of that #anyways im 60% in and i have 9 days to finish it :)#also the further i get into this book the more i miss eli #i still think thrawn is an awesome and super interesting character #but man i miss his dynamic with eli #thrawn #thrawn: alliances #darth vader #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #palpatine #the clone wars #thrawn: alliances spoilers #thrawn novels #star wars novels #eli vanto #mitth'raw'nuruodo #chiss ascendancy

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hydrachea · 11 months

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I'm obsessed by how this, out of context, is completely indistinguishable from what you'd see moments before being hit by a "BAD ENDING" screen while playing a dating sim.

#literally it has it all #a heart counter that's at 0 #a first person pov scene where someone expresses great disappointment in someone referred to in second person #the visual novel style layout of background + character sprite with a very distinct expression + dialogue box #only the sprite is in 3d but otherwise?#indistinguishable i tell you #genshin #genshin impact spoilers #the hangout came out a week ago so really it's still recent #kaveh #loved the hangout adored every part of it but god was this here really funny if you looked at it independently #ray's records

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youremyonlyhope · 1 year

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Weird intense sertraline dreams are super real side effect.

#zoloft #sertraline #i just took a nap from like 9pm-ish to 11pm #i had a dream with a whole bunch of youtubers in it and i have no clue why #i think i made up like half of them just from names i've heard while others were people i either still watch or just used to watch #and there were LEVELS to this dream that i didn't even fully realize until like 30 minutes after waking up #like one youtuber was being called by another name yet they still had drama with another who was there #and it took me remembering the dream to realize that that drama was somewhat real but the different name made me not notice at first #it was WEIRD. also at one point i was living in like a campus or something but there were different climates like every 20 feet #like snow but also multiple pools and a weird like rollercoaster but you walk/slide in it... this is vaguely still coming back to me #also a weird sauna i was in then someone helped me out of it #and LITERALLY as if i was playing the sims i felt my consciousness almost like press buttons to change the POV #and the 'camera' left my eyes and moved to the outside of the sauna so i watched the person carry my sleeping body out #and i'm just NOW remembering that part and being like... what... i mean i literally intentionally changed the camera controls of my dream #guys i am hennaing my hair i was supposed to rinse it out at like 10:30ish but slept through that so i've had it in for an extra hour #which is fine. i like the more intense color. but i've been slowly remembering bits and pieces of this dream #for the last 45 minutes and it's so weird i need to somewhat document it #because it was like 4 different plotlines and the youtuber one was only one of them and the campus thing was another #oh my god i just remembered clark baxtresser from starkid was in the campus part and he was singing and i was like chasing him #through the rollercoaster (or maybe just sliding behind him?) and singing along and i think i dreamt that part due to VHS Christmas Carol #that JUST came back to me. that was such a weird aspect. i think i thought it was weird even in the moment.#i haven't remembered most of the weird sertraline dreams so i'm glad i put down bits of this one

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whumpflash · 1 year

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(continuation of this. this part will hopefully not be too confusing devoid of context but I'm sorry if it is 😶)

cw: pet whump, slavery, mentioned violence

Afternoon tea with a fairy queen sounds like something I would've daydreamt up as a kid. A really young kid. It sounds whimsical. Fanciful. Definitely not stressful. Because when you play pretend as a kid, you're probably not thinking about the political aspects, and you're probably not worried about accidentally screwing the whole thing up and getting yourself and your partner killed.

Funny how the real world works like that.

It was easy enough to get an invitation. Humans are apparently all the rage these days in the mirrored lands, and a human who's promising dirt on an old rival is even better.

The spread set out for the guests is immaculate. China so fine you can practically see through it, and glassware as delicate and intricate as a butterfly's wing. Not to mention the meticulously arranged trays of food. Tiny fruits that look too bright to be real, pastries baked in the shape of flowers with honey dripping from their crusts, little sandwiches and tartlets with fillings that look delicious, though I can't identify them. Even if it weren't for Rhodes and his secret quest for vengeance, I'd probably try and crash one of these parties anyway, if only for the meal.

"All rise for the Queen of the Garden Court!"

The voice booms across the marble hall from somewhere unseen, and those around me—lords and envoys, dukes and wannabes, all here to kiss up to the Queen—hurry to their feet.

Everyone here is after something; power, favor, a chance to climb the social ladder. I'm no exception, but my goals are a little less direct.

Hey, I call mentally to Rhodes. She's here. You should be in the clear for now.

Atta girl, just keep her busy while I figure out where she put the list, he replies.

I have to physically stop myself from nodding, putting on a smile as a woman enters the hall. Contrary to her title, the Garden Queen isn't clad in anything resembling flowers, wearing instead a simple but elegant dress that looks like it's made of melted chocolate. She's smaller than I expected, with tanned skin and a serious expression. In one hand she holds a silver chain, which trails upwards and attaches to a collar around the neck of…

Aaron.

I feel my breath catch in my throat as he moves closer, head bowed, led along by the Queen. He's thinner. Disheveled, even in the fine attire he's been dressed in, but it's unmistakably him.

I remember Armitage's words with a start. The mention of a deal to placate a flower queen. Was this it? Give her a human servant?

"Please be seated," the Garden Queen says, and I sit along with the rest of the court. She takes her place at the head of the table, Aaron kneeling on the floor beside her.

Is this a trick? Is he trying to con her? There's no way the Aaron I know would act so subservient. It almost makes me want to laugh, picturing it as an act. Prideful asshole like him ordered to pretend he's a fae queen's plaything. I wonder how hard it was to convince him?

Servants cart out a sizable teapot, and with a snap of the Queen's fingers, Aaron is standing to pour it. He's got four other guests before he reaches me, and I'm spending that time trying to come up with the best biting remark I can.

But as he gets closer, as tends to happen, I get a closer look. His expression is dull, like he's numb to the world around him, and there are dark circles under his eyes that weren't there last time we were face to face. His hands shake, almost imperceptibly, as he pours the tea.

Time passes differently in the mirrored lands. It's only been a few weeks since his fight with Nick, but how long has it been for him?

I'm still staring when he reaches me. We meet eyes for all of a second before he looks away, but I see the flash of recognition. He nearly spills my tea as he pours it, then makes his way around the table, returning to kneel by the Queen once his task is complete.

It takes a minute for me to realize that everyone else has started to eat, selecting treats from the tiered trays before them. I take a pastry and some fruit, if only to avoid drawing attention to myself.

I've lost my appetite.

How's it going? comes Rhodes' voice.

Looks like she'll be busy for a while, I reply. But…

But?

I grab one of the little fruits—one that looks like a tiny cluster of bright orange grapes—and chew it robotically. It tastes weirdly like bananas.

But there's been a small hiccup, I continue. Someone here knows me.

Dammit. Is this gonna blow everything?

I sip at the tea. No, I… I don't think so. He's not a guest. He's… I don't know, he's some kind of servant to the Queen. Some kind of pet.

He's human then, Rhodes says. It's been known to happen. A human gets in too deep with fae business and funds there's no coming back.

I glance over at Aaron. Very still, eyes glued to the floor. Like a stranger is wearing his skin.

Is there no coming back? I ask.

We can't help him, comes the reply. Not now. Not without getting caught.

I don't know why his words make my stomach twist. No matter how pitiful he looks now, it's still Aaron, and he's still a violent asshole. The world is no doubt a safer place with him bound to the Queen's will.

The afternoon rolls on, and I do my best to enjoy it despite the presence of my enthralled ex-coworker. I try to listen to the babble of the lord's around me to take my mind off it, but even in fantasyland, politics are super boring.

"Louisa?"

It takes me a second to remember the false name I gave to the court, and I look up to find the Queen staring pointedly at me.

"My Queen?" I manage to say.

"I've heard rumors that you have a story or two about an old schoolmate of mine," she says. "A man going by the name of Armitage?"

Ah yes. Gossip time. I straighten my shoulders and pretend I don't notice the slight shift on Aaron's face.

"I do indeed, your majesty," I say. "I have stories to entertain the whole of your court, and—" I lean in with a cartoonishly mischievous look. "---a few stories that may be too saucy for any ears but the Queen's," I say in a theatrical whisper. Rhodes would be proud.

The Queen herself looks sufficiently intrigued, and I think I can say with confidence that I've bought plenty of time. I stand up, aware of dozens of pairs of eyes on me.

Right. The fun part. The part where everyone stares at me and I have to hold their attention without messing up. No pressure.

I clear my throat, gearing up for one of the stories Rhodes told me.

"Well," I start. "It began on a windy day."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My nerves are straight shot by the time I've finished the first tale, and thankfully it seems everyone's attention has wavered enough that they aren't wanting another. The Queen is a different story. Once the tea service is cleared away, she motions for me to come closer.

"That was quite an entertaining story," she says, giving me such a look that it feels like she's trying to read my mind. "But I'm more interested in the… what did you call them? Saucy tales. Do you have the information I think you have?"

Shoot. Do I?

"It may be so, my Queen," I say quickly. "However, if I am to divulge such things, it should be somewhere more…" I make a point to glance around. "Secluded."

Maybe that will at least buy me some time.

Are you done yet? I call out to Rhodes. We have a situation.

I swear I'm close.

You said that an hour ago, I complain.

For real this time. What's the situation?

It's probably fine.

What's the worst that could happen? All I have to do is lie well enough to get her off my back, then me and Rhodes can book it.

"You are correct," the Queen says after a moment. "I will receive you in my chambers shortly. Please wait here, and I'll send someone to fetch you."

With that, she rises, giving a snap of her fingers. Aaron, who'd been stacking the remaining plates, flinches at the sharp little sound. As he turns toward us, his arm catches the edge of the stack, sending it to the ground with a loud crash as the plates explode into a million tiny shards.

I jump at the sound, looking at him like he's gone crazy. Behind me, the Queen scoffs.

"Clean it up," she says flatly, a disgusted look on her face. And then she's gone, footsteps echoing on the marble.

I fall into a chair with a sigh, watching Aaron fall to his knees and get to work.

"You did that on purpose," I say in a low voice.

"I-I wanted to talk to you," he says, not looking up. His voice is hoarse, like someone with a sore throat.

"Well here I am," I say, shifting to face away. I can't get distracted with this right now.

Either hurry up or give me some actual dirt on Armitage, I tell Rhodes. The Queen is after some kind of secret.

"Please," Aaron calls in a soft voice. "Armitage… Armitage betrayed me. I'm her… her pet now. I haven't taken any oaths, but they're trying to make me, and if they do, I'll never leave." His voice breaks, and it takes all my willpower to not turn around. It's Aaron. Not some helpless innocent. It's Aaron.

"They're hurting me, Clara. Help me, please—"

"You want me to risk my own freedom— maybe my life— for you?" I cut him off. "You tried to kill Nick. You put me in the hospital."

"I'm sorry."

"Only because you're trying to save your own neck," I spit out. And it's the truth, isn't it? If it was Nick in his position, or even me, I know he'd leave us behind without a second thought.

"So y-you think I deserve this then?" Aaron says, and his voice comes out small. Broken.

"I think–" I shake my head, then at last turn back around. See him kneeling, hands on his knees, looking defeated.

"No. Yes. No. You deserve some kind of comeuppance but… not this."

His eyes brighten, just the tiniest bit. "Will you help me then? Please, I j-just want to go home–"

"Sh." I can hear footfall on marble, somewhere down the hall. Probably the Queen's messenger coming for me. I could really use those secrets, Rhodes.

"I'll do what I can," I say quietly. "But I'm not making any promises."

#i am once again apologizing for the first person POV #also this is way longer and less whumpy than i usually post here but i KNOW it'll be forever before i actually get to this part so #yeah #mark it down to impatience #whump #whumpflash #whump writing #pet whump #whumper turned whumpee #collar whump #villain whump #this is pretty muted since it may go in a book someday #but i might do a more intense variation of garden palace stuff lol

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raksh-writes · 7 months

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Im a pent-up ball of pure stress and restlessness (like chest-tight and heart pounding type of stress) and I have 0 idea what to do with myself, because anytime I want to try and go distract myself with Something my anxiety spikes and my brain goes "!!! NO!!! DANGER!!! LOOK OUT FOR DANGER!!!" so I guess I'll just spend the day pacing the house and refreshing the same 3 pages on repeat, huh...

#personal #Raksh posts #tomorrow I'll know if I got back into uni #so that's the culprit #but I also have no way of assuaging it so fuck me I guess 😩#and depending on if I do or dont get in #its either gonna be a full on depressed crying or a crazy busy next week #plus so much has been happening all around #I finished my internship last friday #we found out our doggo is sick and we're going with her to a vet cardiologist next friday #my younger cousin Ive always been quite close with came to visit with her boyfriend and announced yesterday they got engaged #my bro today said he's planning to marry next year #Im trying not to let my crippling loneliness take me over #it's kinda a lot when all put together 🙈#I thought maybe I could finish typing up what I have of my recent vegaspete AU #its a super indulgent time travel a/b/o shifterd thingy with outsider pov - Nops in this first part #and so I could maybe have something to finally post sometime soon and motivate me to write some more #but I can't focus on that #Ive also thought of maybe gaming a bit #Id actually like to check out Cyberpunk with this new 2.0 update #but again it feels like anytime I try to occupy myself with something my brain goes into alarm mode ughhh #this stressing business is so useless and unproductive why isnt there a switch to it I could just flip and turn it off??#ughhhhh anyway #Im just venting dont mind me #hoped putting it down in some way shape or form would help but will it work? prob not 😂😪#vent #rant

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indigosabyss · 2 months

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I've looked at Gwen Poole and her powers from a couple of different angles. And with every fic of her, I want to touch on something different regarding her relationship to the fictional world she resides in.

Specifically, with QPR Gwentin Takes On X-Men First Class, I want to talk about the impact specific superhero media had on her in her real life.

Unlike the comics, here she is experiencing a plot she knows beforehand, instead of a world of characters she knows sort of with a whole different path. This is a retread.

Gwen was 18/19 when she was dragged into the comic world in 2016, meaning that X-Men First Class in 2011 was likely the first X-Men movie she saw in theaters. Unless she lied about her age to watch X-Men Origins: Wolverine two years before that. Which. Listen there are better movies to be Your First In-Theater X-Men Movie. But what do I know, I watched Captain Marvel for my first in theater marvel movie.

Either way I want to focus on how she felt then. Her rapidly increasing interest in comics. Her parents' confused support. I want the joy, the excitement, the sparking high of a good movie. To bring it back around to the heroes at the core of it. The happiness she got from them, which she lost herself so completely to.

Because media doesn't mean a lot to us in a vacuum. It is the associations around it that really make it meaningful. And I want to highlight that for Gwen.

#obvs theres the escapism and the power fantasies and the all around awesome #but fandom has been a big part of my life for the past four five years #and im assuming for gwen its been an even bigger part #and superhero media has defined major parts of my life and changed how i think of it #teen titans was how i learnt to pirate shows #my sister came w me to watch captain marvel and that's why i still remember it #avengers endgame was the last movie i saw at my at-the-time best friend's house #I remember a booktuber critiquing i think that Edward POV of twilight?#where Meyers wrote long lists about what Bella liked to combat her lack of personality #and they said smth like 'saying what someone likes isn't as important as explaining WHY they like it'#and i think no one has really done that w gwen #she's a fan. that's her thing. we don't need a why for it. except i DO #gwen poole #gwenpool #x men first class

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toytulini · 2 months

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dont get mad at me this is a subjective opinion but like. like i enjoy stardew a lot and this is by no means a criticism, more of like. just a Wish.

I want a game very similar to stardew valley in terms of play and "difficulty" but animated/artstyle like, botw.

#toy txt post #if anyone gets on my ass about this i will turn reblogs off so fast im just wishing and this isnt even hating on the artstyle of stardew #more. wishing i could further customize the house and grow crops in botw or totk #you can do more house customization in totk but its still not enough also my house in totk is like. maxmimum number of buildings #which i cant remember? but its that many of just fish ponds stacked on top of each other in a spiral and then every blood moon i get that #many free easy sanke carp #anyway the point is i really loke both games and i dont hate the artstyle of stardew. but its not like my favorite?#also sorry for making this post more disclaimers than opinion at this point i just really want to get it across that i Like Stardew Valley #and i likw the artstyle and this is not like a call to action on the dev or a demand or anything it is me daydreaming about a game that #doesnt exist. also if i had the controls i have in botw maybe i wouldnt be getting mugged in the mines so much #also im a fake gamer so i dont know all the right terms but i know there are like Other Games that have like the exploration vibe and #probably the ability to customize a house and give gifts to ppl and shit however all the ones im thinking of.........#to be clear here when i say art like botw i dont just mean like oh expensive 3d rendering and all that shit. like a little but like #CRUCIALLY. NOT AIMING FOR REALISM. it (DAYDREAM GAME MADE UP) needs to be stylized bc #listen i was being nice w the sv i dont hate the stardew valley style. im not going to be nice here: i fucking despise games trying to look #like real life and real life ppl every single one ive ever seen is uncanny valley to me EVEN DESPITE the many advancements they have made.#i recognize theyve made a lot of advancements. and i recognize this is also a subjective opinion i hold. but i just think all the ones ive #ever seen are so fucking ugly stop trying to capture the realism just lean into some stylization please im begging youuu #the worst part is there are games whos premise i would probably find interesting? but theyre so fucking ugly im not spending over $40 on #that shit ESPECIALLY if it has the audacity to be first person pov #i can maybe be tricked into it in this regard if its heavily ocean centric. i can be bribed with ocean

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simmonsized · 9 months

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Today I'm thinking about the fact that a lot (a LOT) of Homestuck fanfiction is written in second person and how I don't remember when that happened or who made it prevalent, though I'm sure you could do research to figure it out but I'm lazy so I'm not doing that but it just genuinely amuses me and also delights me because no other fandom I've ever been in has done that except one (1) author in rvb and that was such a specific case, and a very specific voice which gave it such cool power and intention but idk I just

I am sure it has changed the way I write in a way I can never go back from but I don't even care because it's fun and because it works so fucking well and sure you can write Homestuck fanfiction in third person, that is your god given right, but there is just something about that second person perspective that really does it for me

#there is a reason that different perspectives exist and they have different uses and that is so important to remember because like #sure i could have written rng in third person but i actively chose not to and the use is intentional #i dont understand reader/self insert/your name fanfiction but i imagine perhaps there's a bit of the same in there maybe #it's very.... visceral if that makes sense #but all this to say i will not read first person pov fanfic unless its epilogue fanfic #yes i read epilogue fanfic no i dont like the epilogues yes we exist #if you told me back at 18 that i would be writing and reading shit in second person i would tell u to fuck off and stop lying but #here we are over ten years later lol #im also thinking about this because i know part of harrow is in second person and im very excited about it #anyway yes you can write things in different perspectives but like. fics would not be the same without their chosen voice

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dearestaeneas · 8 months

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Epilogue.

For a moment, the world burned with the deepest orange before fading to blue. The little rat loved the dark, although his already blurred vision became all the more useless. His whiskers and nose did well to steer him in the right direction as he made sure to take the appropriate time to mourn the loss of the burning light’s rainbow. It did not matter that it would be back tomorrow: The specific moments he savored could never truly be repeated, simply recreated in a similar likeness.

The little rat squeaked with delight just thinking about it.

He did not wonder at just how many of those bright and colorful moments he had left, because such a thought served no purpose. There was no answer that could change the wonder he was so blessed to marvel at, leaving no reason to ask the question in the first place.

Despite its age, the rain and the wet hadn’t fully infiltrated his home. The beams he scurried across remained dry, the older ones occasionally creaking quietly, but respectfully, under his weight. He appeared to be in a great rush, finding himself back on the ground floor in far less time than it took him to leave it.

He exited the wall, running toward the study.

Pappappappappap!

The little rat heard the squeaking before he could make out his fellow little round shapes. Before him lay a carnival: several smaller rats fought playfully as those around them fed or curled themselves into one another as they slept. Although the little rat’s home was now dark, pale moonlight shone into the room through the tall, arched windows. As the moon rose, more and more of the sleeping little bodies began to stir.

Before long, the little rat found himself in the middle of the colony, squeaking enthusiastically. He fed on beetles that crawled their way across the walls of his home, as well as seeds that fell through broken windows from trees. Some of his meal even consisted of raspberries that had begun to grow across the house’s front stoop. As he ate with his friends in the home he loved, the little rat forgot the grief he’d felt thinking about his fleeting glance at the sun.

He did not hold still for long- none of them did. The little rat scurried about, pouncing on his companions and swishing his tail back and forth excitedly. He didn’t like to be alone and only did so at sunset. Although, as he played and squeaked and ran, he wished he could share all of his life with those around him.

If only they knew! If only they knew the wonders the house had for them, just waiting to be found! To be loved!

But wouldn’t it be cruel to disturb their sleep? No, maybe it was okay to keep such a treasure to himself. He would not force his choice on those he loved, and instead began to wonder what treasures he could possibly be missing out on.

His home did not love him less for not knowing all the marvels it had to offer, did not love his friends less for not knowing the beauty of the chandelier at sunset.

The little rat’s little feet pattered against the wooden floor, smooth and worn after years of those who came before him.In a sea of identical little noises, his own little pappappappappap! added to that legacy. Those who were to come after him would not know his unique squeaks or the way his specific feet sounded, but they would know their own, acting as a similar enough likeness.

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