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#i have too many things i need to say

flowercrowngods · 2 months

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something so monstrous pt.2

(in which kas feeds from steve and triggers a bad migraine pt.2)

🤍🌷 read part 1 here this part gets really intense on the migraine. descriptions of immense pain, fever dreams, and vomiting, some body horror imagery bc pain can be fun like that

Time and space lose all meaning as Steve remains on the precipice of something that is too violent to be called sleep, but not harsh enough yet to be unconsciousness. Real sensations evade him as everything turns into pain immediately. Even the twitch of his finger becomes a thundering blaze of blinding pain shooting through his body and settling behind his eye until he is sure he will wake up blind.

The fear of that is everpresent, the blind spots too real to ignore every time it goes like this, and he imagines how they will grow. He imagines how they get worse every time until one day the pain inside his skull will be so immense it will take his eyesight in exchange for alleviation.

And even though it is unbearable, he opens his eyes whenever he can, just to make sure he can see still. It’s an added veil of terror that covers him whole and consumes him slowly but continually.

At some point he notices something cold and wet being placed over his eyes, adding another layer of darkness that is welcome, even if it leaves an imprint of pressure and sensation on his forehead that makes his skin tear around it, his skull cracking and caving in beneath the touch.

And still it helps a little, pulling him further toward consciousness but not further toward the pain itself. But Steve can only whimper weakly in response, six feet under a thick cloud of cotton-filled smog that even turns breathing into a chore, polluting his lungs with fear and horror and agony without compare.

He does fall into a fitful sleep at some point, grateful for the short reprieve, but it does nothing to alleviate his exhaustion.

It feels like his eyeballs are being pushed into his skull for what must be hours upon hours, and the pain is so unbearable, so horrible, that he's not at all surprised when nausea rises in his chest, his body responding to its current state with confusion and a hard-reset.

Steve keens, trying to roll onto his side, groaning at the flares of pain shooting up into his skull and down into his limbs. They only worsen the nausea and it's pure instinct that gives him the strength to sit up.

"Kas?” he whispers, swallowing thickly against another wave. "Bathroom?”

Instead of giving him directions or pulling him up to drag him there, Kas wastes no time. He gets up off the floor, approaching him with shuffling steps once more, and gently but quickly lifts Steve off the bed in a hold — firm, yet gentle — that brings another sting of tears to Steve's eyes. Pain and vulnerability and the need for everything to be over. That’s what makes him cry.

Still he manages to hold on, his head rolling onto Kas's shoulder, the skin of his neck blissfully cool against Steve’s overheated forehead pressing into him.

Make it stop, he thinks. Longs. Aches. It’s supposed to be over. It’s all supposed to be over now.

He whimpers again, and imagines that Kas is the one to softly shush him this time.

The coolness of Kas's neck is gone all too soon as the vampire sets Steve on the hard, uncomfortable bathroom floor. He doesn't go far, though, crouching down beside him and holding him up over the toilet. Steve can't see anything, but still he’s grateful that Kas left the lights off, the bathroom tinged in the same darkness as his bedroom.

Pathetically, Steve rests his forehead on the toilet seat, chasing the coldness of it as pain and nausea reach their peak. It’s disgusting, but be’s not strong enough to care. A whine breaks from him, and he wishes Kas would leave. Even though the cold hand on his neck feels good, and even though he knows he wouldn't be able to hold himself up right now.

I'm not weak, he wants to say. And maybe he does. But he can't recognise his own voice right now.

"Not weak, maybe, but pathetic."

No.

"You know you are."

Shut up. Go away.

It doesn't make sense for Mr Munson to suddenly be here with them, to stand in the doorway and watch his nephew, who is more monster than human these days, holding up the pathetic form of Steve, who is more pain than human. More smoke than human. More vulnerable weakness than remotely human.

Go away. Eddie? I want him to go away. Tell— Go ‘way.

The hand wanders, pulling Steve against cool skin again so his forehead rests against the toilet no longer, basking in the cold touch and the warmth of a body to hold him.

"Safe," Kas says, and Steve wants to badly to believe him. Wants Wayne to leave, wants everyone to leave and just let him suffer in silence and solitude like always.

Wayne starts talking again, but Steve can't hear him this time as he suddenly heaves and retches, throwing up what little he had to eat today. Over and over and over.

It goes like this for a long time. He has no idea how long. Has no idea where he even is anymore.

The world tilts a few times when he loses his grip, his arms buckling, his hands spasming and giving out, and still he never falls. Only ever feels the cold, damp skin of Kas’s neck.

Kas has to carry him to bed when he's done and on the brink of passing out again, and Steve doesn’t mind this time. Kas also hands him a glass of water or two before pushing him back to lie down again. That’s nice.

The wet cloth returns, and Steve isn't aware of his surroundings for much more after that.

——

The next time Steve comes to, he feels like he was freshly dragged through Lover’s Lake until his lungs gave out. His head is pulsing violently, his senses are sluggish and everything feels foggy. He has no idea where he is, the room pitch black around him as he lifts a lukewarm damp cloth from his eyes.

A soft groan falls from his lips as he stretches his aching, cramped limbs, rubbing his hands over his face and regaining the feeling in his body. Little pinpricks of phantom pain shoot through him, his mouth tastes like ash and his head protests rather violently against his pathetic attempt at sitting up.

He is disoriented and something about his vision is still messed up, something in the depths of the room not quite right and leaving him with a dizziness he can’t quite shake, followed by a wave of anxiety that something’s wrong with his eyes.

He blinks. Blinks again, finding more things in the strange room as he does, his sluggish brain slowly catching up and filling in the blanks.

It all comes back to him like a tidal wave when he suddenly finds himself blinking at a pair of red eyes, softly glowing and wide open.

“Kas,” he croaks, his throat absolutely parched.

One second he’s wincing at that, the next he finds a cool glass of water pressed into his hands before the eyes and the shadowy form they belong to retreat to the foot of the bed again.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, stalling as he takes a sip. Embarrassment rises in him, but he doesn’t want to apologise. The thought of that somehow makes the vulnerability that much worse, so he tries to ignore it. It’ll all be fine if they simply not acknowledge it.

He wants to ask for the time instead, wants to know how much the migraine took from him this time, but he knows Kas doesn’t really understand the concept of it all, let alone know the numbers.

A silence settles between them and it’s somewhere between welcome and uncomfortable. Just like everything that happens in Hawkins. It makes Steve feel like a ghost again, but this time he’s a ghost in the room, not just in his own head. He’s the one who’s out of place.

With a little sigh, he places the glass on the makeshift nightstand again and falls over onto his side. His head is mad at him for it, still feeling too fragile for sudden movements, but lying down feels better than sitting.

There’s a huff from Kas that sounds more amused than derisive, so Steve looks at him. Looks at the shimmer in those eyes before closing his own again, not wanting to be looked at right now. Not wanting to face it.

“You,” Kas says then, his voice quiet and without the edge of that animalistic growl. The sound of someone who’s not meant to speak at all. The souvenir of someone who was human once before Evil grabbed him and modified him to His liking.

“Me,” Steve says, an automatic response, just as quiet. He’s listening.

“How… How are…” Kas struggles, huffing in frustration at the words that refuse to come, but still it’s the most coherent Steve has ever heard him. It makes him sit up half way again; leaning his weight on one arm to focus all his foggy and cloudy attention on the vampire trying to ask him how he is feeling.

No more words come, though, the question half finished in the air between them. But somehow it makes Steve smile. Just a little bit. This feels important. And huge.

“My head hurts,” he answers truthfully, amused when Kas’s eyes snap back to his. To search them. To communicate something.

“Hurts?”

“Yeah. It will, for a while. Always does. Nothing to do about it, really.” He wishes he felt as indifferent to it as he sounds, but that’s just the tiredness clouding his tone. It’s fast approaching now that he knows he’s relatively safe. Now that he knows he can rest. His arm gives out and he slides, slowly this time, back to lie on the pillow. “But it’s not as bad. And the other pain is gone, so…”

So. He could go home now. He should, probably. Ignoring the weakness in his bones and the exhaustion in his every fiber. If he closed his eyes again right now, he could fall asleep. Still, maybe he should—

“Stay,” Kas says again, and Steve really should have figured. He’s not quite well enough to really fight him on that, though, so he shrugs.

“Fine,” he mumbles into the pillow, halfway back to slumberland already.

There’s movement on the foot of the bed, and before he knows it Kas has tucked him in again, draped across the pillows as he is. It’s still unreal, that, but Steve won’t complain. What’s even more unreal, though, is the image Steve gets of Kas curling up by the foot of the bed in a similar position. As if he still means to keep watch.

It’s ridiculous. A little weird. And sort of endearing.

——

The next time Steve wakes, everything around him is a little brighter, daylight fighting weakly to fill the room, but it stands no chance against the large wooden planks and thick curtains meant to block it out permanently.

He blinks away the heaviness, taking stock of his body. There is a crick in his neck and burgeoning cramps in his side and hip from the position he’s still in, and this head still is a pulsing, aching mess — but no more than usual.

He taps the pads of his fingers to his thumb before flexing his hands. Only then does he stretch the rest of his body and announce his wakefulness.

Opposite him, at the foot of the bed, Kas is already awake and still in the same position that Steve saw him last. Did he even sleep? Does he need that? Or has he just been staring at Steve, watching him, ready to carry him to the bathroom again for round two.

The thought of that makes his skin crawl.

“Hi,” he says to fill the silence that is all too inviting for his spiralling mind.

Kas grunts, but it sounds more like a hum. Sort of gentle around the edges. He doesn’t move, doesn’t seem at all fazed that they’re just kind of staring at each other. Steve swallows, not really sure how to go from here.

He fists the blanket and rubs the linen bedding between his fingers, feels the rough fabric catching on the callouses along his hands as uncomfortable seconds tick by. Still Kas doesn’t move.

“Listen, man,” Steve says at last, thinking back to yesterday’s events and the vampire’s sudden care. “Thanks, alright? What you did, that was, uh. That was nice. You didn’t have to do any of that.”

Another hum, and it occurs to Steve that Kas is back in his normal state, retreated back into his mind, hiding from the world himself now that it no longer needs him. It’s a strange thought, that Steve being hurt would be what brings him back. If at all. Maybe he’s reading it all wrong. Maybe it as just a coincidence, or maybe Kas tasted something in his blood that made him want to improve Steve’s physical state for selfish purposes. That’s probably more likely.

But it makes him feel even more wrong-footed than before, and it leaves him hyper-aware of the situation. Of their dynamic. Indifference and annoyance and… He doesn’t want it to change, doesn’t want some kind of debt between himself and Kas — especially not when Kas has no means to really settle it. But he also can’t feign some kind of gratitude when what he feels the most is mortification and embarrassment; and he sure as hell doesn’t want Kas to know that either.

So he throws back the blanket and gets out of the bed, a little dizzy at first, but he doesn’t care as he slips into his shoes and hurries out of the room.

He just wants to leave. Get out of here and go home, go back to bed and get over the mortification of having been seen like this. Of having been taken care of. By someone who doesn’t even like him. By someone who hissed and snapped at him one moment and then carried him to the bathroom the next.

“It looks like there’s nothing human left in him, but we do have data that suggest otherwise.” Owens’s words echo through his mind as he crosses the living room. “It seems to be in hiding, the Munson part of him; that’s our hope at least. That you can get him back out one day, make him win over the vampire part. It could be like a self defence mechanism, I guess. We hope he can still be coaxed back into the land of the living. How, though, we don’t know.”

Was this what happened? Has Steve’s weakness triggered the human part of Kas’s tortured brain to take over? No, that can’t be.

It seems unreal. Unlikely. Wayne telling him stories or Dustin talking about their campaign, that should have helped. Even Mike playing the guitar, or Robin rambling about something or other; all of that was much more close to who Munson was. Or used to be. Eddie Munson never struck Steve as someone who took care of people naturally. Someone who stepped in. He stepped up, sure, but only ever for the wrong reasons.

It makes no sense. So it must be wrong; just Steve’s exhausted brain grasping at straws. It usually does that, anyway. Nobody knows if Eddie is even still in there. Part of Steve hopes he’s not.

Just as he reaches for the front door, ready to just get out of here and pretend like nothing happened, he feels a presence behind him. Kas followed him out of the bedroom, standing in the doorway now with an unreadable expression. It's the blank one he usually takes on, but where before it was normal, it throws Steve off now. Maybe because he saw how Kas can look at him. How expressive his eyes can get.

He holds them, the red shimmer a little dimmer out here in the brighter living room.

And maybe it's the blankness in those eyes, or the lack of judgment in Kas's every action, but whatever it is, it makes Steve let go of the door and turn to face Kas properly.

"Why'd you do it?"

The vampire inclines his head. Listening. Always listening. Steve doesn't know how he never noticed that. It seemed so primitive before. Like how a dog will react to its owner speaking, but never process the words. Kas processes, though. So Steve keeps going.

"Why'd you... You kept saying that word. Safe. Do you, uh. Do you know what it means?"

Slowly, his eyes growing a little less blank, Kas nods.

Steve looks around the cabin, swallowing thickly, still feeling so out of place in here, still feeling the need to run and leave it far behind. But something makes him stay. Makes him want to understand.

"You wanted me to feel safe?" Again, Kas nods. "Why?"

There is hesitation there, and Steve wonders if it's because he doesn't want to tell him, if he doesn't know the answer, or if he doesn't know how to answer. It's a loaded question, maybe.

"Pain," he says at last, his voice barely discernible from a growl, but somehow Steve seems attuned to it now. Maybe because he listens now. Because he wants to know. To understand.

He waits, watching as Kas struggles for more words once more. Just like last night.

"Know... Know... pain. Know.” He taps his temple with a clawed hand, and Steve's heart falls, his chest aching with realisation.

Right. He would. He would know pain like that. If what the doc says is right, if what Vecna taunted them with is right, if every working theory the kids have is right, then… yeah. Kas would know. He’s know something about pain. More than any of them. Pain so intense it splits you apart from yourself.

"Shit," Steve whispers more to himself than to the room, crossing his arms in front of his chest to hug himself and keep from digging deeper, keep his heart from falling further, and keep the horror at bay.

He doesn't want to imagine the kind of torture Kas went through. Is still going through, if what the doctors say has even more truth to it. If Munson is still in there, still suffering because human minds have a way of holding on to pain — Steve knows soemthing about that, too.

"I'm sorry," he offers. It's all he can offer. In the end, it’s all that’s left.

And still it's so lame. It's not enough.

But Kas just nods again, a pained shadow of a smile appearing on his face. Something transpires between them in that moment, Steve can feel it, but he can't really define it. Maybe some kind of understanding. Some kind of safety.

"I gotta..." he starts, motioning to the door behind him. "I gotta go. Will you be fine? Did you have enough, y'know, to drink?"

Another nod, and the smile widens a little. Looks a little less pained this time.

"Good," Steve says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, lifting his shoulders to his ears, trying and failing to seem casual in the face of those glowing eyes. "I’ll– I'll see you around, yeah?"

And then he's out the door, his head spinning and aching, his steps heavy with the weight of whatever has changed between him and Kas in the past twenty-four hours.

... sooo. part 3 anyone?

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently) 🤍 tagging for this work only: @forestnymph-666 @little-trash-ghost @jupitersgonemissing

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #kas eddie munson #kas takes care of steve fic #this part is downright short for me lmao #dio words #something so monstrous #i have a lot of things to say about pain and monstrosity but instead i just juxtapose them with an actual monster #and then bend the understanding of humanity around that instead #if the tag list doesn't work pls lmk some of these tags be looking wonky on mobile #the end of this is super rushed but 1) steve is still disoriented n weak 2) the mortifying ordeal of having been taken care of must be fled #3) too many thoughts too many realisations and things rearranging overwritten by the need to leave #so pls know it’s intentional and real life is abrasive like that sometimes hdhdh

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vanyafresita · 3 months

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after seeing this post by the artist afkeii on instagram, i got inspired to write a poem... and then i drew something to make it into a zine...

the way i feel about romantic love is... complicated... but i've known i'm on the aromantic spectrum for over a year now ! yippiee !

if you'd like to have a physical copy, feel free to [download the print version here] , and check [how to put it together / make a 8-page zine here]

#zine #personal zine #art #aromantic #aromantic spectrum #my art #id in alt text #that was very... interesting to write and draw about #dont ask me how i feel about romantic love its too tiring to explain #(<- thats a lie- do ask me about it as much as you want i have so many thoughts on it. probs more questions than answers tbf tho)#also yeah the black ring on my middle finger and right hand is bcs im asexual too #but ive known im ace since i was 13 so i dont have nothing poetic to say about it cuz its been just a normal thing for me for so long lol #aight its getting late and i need to go sleep byeeee

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saixs-wife · 11 days

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I hope in KH4 Riku gets himself in trouble.

I hope in KH4 Sora is the one to protect Riku and not the other way around.

I hope in KH4 Sora realizes what Riku means when he says "Strength to protect the things that matter."

I hope in KH4 Sora finds his strength. His inner one, not the one connected to friends.

I hope in KH4 Sora and Riku have a REAL talk about the shit that happened to them.

I hope in KH4 Riku tells Sora how much him and Kairi mean to him. And how they kept him going.

I hope in KH4 they laugh together.

I HOPE IN KH4 KAIRI SHOOTS DOWN FROM THE FUCKING SKY LIKE A BADASS TO SAVE THOSE TWO IDIOTS.

#kh4 expectations #kingdom hearts #kh #riku #soriku #riku kingdom hearts #kh sora #kingdom hearts riku #kh kairi #sorikai #like please i need to see them being friends and having conversations about these things #I won't say the kids have trauma but they brush aside too many atrocities #they did not ask for this

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to-be-a-dreamer · 2 months

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“Separate the art from the artist” is what you say when you still find joy in art that was created by a person who has done something harmful, but their art isn’t directly tied to their actions as a person, so you find ways to privately enjoy it without directly supporting them. It is not something you say to make yourself feel better about directly financially supporting a person who admitted to physical domestic abuse (which is an actual literal crime that people go to jail for, not some kind of petty internet discourse that a notes app apology can fix) just because you can’t stand to let go of your favorite mediocre white boy.

A streamer is not the kind of artist you can separate from the art. Music is another thing but if you’re able to listen to a man sing about being a toxic partner while knowing what he’s done you may need to spend some time unpacking that. And if you’re one of the people who found comfort in using his content as a form of escapism before you knew about all of this, I’m sorry and I know this must be hard to come to terms with but that’s something you need to deal with in private and it’s not an excuse to continue giving a platform to an abuser.

Always believe victims and go support Shelby! She’s been my favorite Minecraft content creator for years and she’s amazing at what she does! Her YouTube and streaming content is great and I’m also a big fan of her work on Kollok 1991 and The Unleashed, which are TTRPG shows if that’s something you’re into! Kollok is a lot more gritty and definitely not PG (think Stranger Things but with more of a horror element) and the Unleashed is like a comic-book super heroes series that’s a little more similar vibes to her usual content. (Featuring an all LGBTQ+ cast and GMed by Aabria Iyengar!) The Unleashed is pretty short for a TTRPG series and a great place to start if you’ve never seen that kind of thing before!

#tw abuse #cw abuse #shubble #shelby shubble #not the kind of thing i usually talk about but I’ve seen too many people misusing that phrase and it simply must be said #the number of people who have said they don’t care what he’s done they’re still going to support him is disgusting #‘I went to therapy I’m better now’ is a shit apology and you all know it #are there ways to consume his music without directly supporting him?#definitely but the majority of people saying this aren’t intending on doing that #wilbur soot #I don’t even want to tag him but I know that’s where the people who need to be told this are

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moeblob · 5 months

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Alright I told someone I would give propaganda for these two so here we go. As a warning, I didn't play mobile or Re-Mind soooooooo. Yeah there's that. I know they're apparently involved in past stuff but shhh.

So first off, everyone's weapon is super useful! Except theirs. Which I always thought was really funny? Even in Re:CoM Zexion's book was more direct than these two. I really enjoyed them just as the most indirect fighters? And figured they'd be pretty chill and after playing KH2 as a kid I'm like. I think Luxord would be most tolerable to music while vibing. He could play Solitaire or something while Demyx played music and possibly chatted. Therefore, my younger self was like "it's perfect".

ALSO CONSIDERING THEIR NUMBERS! And the line in KH3 during the scene where Demyx is like "yup I got benched", they've probably got a history. However, the number they get originally is supposed to be the order they joined. So with Marluxia and Larxene obviously tied together in the past, all I can think of is these two just being absolute bums wandering around pre-Organization and just hitch hiking their way into a cult. Which is also REALLY funny to me because what if they joined at the same time but Demyx got to be IX and Luxord is X.

Demyx would hold his rank over his head for the dumbest stuff (in my head canons of the past).

Like there's so many things we specifically do not know about these two so basically, until I'm proven absolutely incorrect in game (which might have happened and I just don't know) ! I think they'd be a good match.

And I mean, it's also just (gestures) LOOK AT HOW CUTE THEY ARE. Great designs and I think that's good enough for me!

#kingdom hearts #demyx #luxord #i really just looked at these losers when i played kh2 on ps2 and was like wow they should kiss #and now im many years older and i am still like wow they should kiss #also i was telling my sister i was trying to come up with propaganda doodles and im like #yeah its two guys what more would the kh fandom need ya know #and she looks at me and goes did you really just say they're two guys thats enough #and i was ??? YEAH?????? FOR KH? theres like ten girls and ten games what more do i get to work with #and she sat there listing games in the series (she hasn't played any but she watched me play 1 and 2)#and counted eight and then i listed some more and she was like ok you know what thats fair #but that said she said the funniest thing ever that i NEED to draw but its too late for tonight #so you guys will get more of them at some point #also im still amused that luxord in kh3 appears after demyx says hes benched #and proceeds to say WELL AT LEAST I WASNT BENCHED like super casually and demyx just ouch you were listening thats rude #like they're supposed to be vessels and yet they still manage to have a bicker moment over importance of roles

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mymarifae · 3 months

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me: i finished the latest trailblaze mission in hsr so i can look at what other people are posting now! oh boy i hope it's discussions and theories about the story. i can't wait to see what everyone thought about firefly (what was going on with you sweetie...) and A Child's Dream - that segment in particular really left a profound impact on me. like who is mikhail? the voice we hear throughout is obviously misha's - did he have a twin? does mikhail have something to do with clockie? and from what we heard and saw, misha or... mikhail. encountered the embodiment of Death that lurks beneath the dreamscape. what's... the full story there...? i can't wait to see other people's perspectives it'll help me piece a more coherent theory together-

other hsr fans: *thirstposting about aventurine and/or dr. ratio, trying to cancel sparkle even though the entire point of her character is that yes she's a horrible person because it's high time we see how DANGEROUS and CRUEL the masked fools can be - no more reducing them to the silly wacky hijinks sampo pulled on jarilo; you should be scared of these guys; the game's story never wanted you to make sparkle your next skrunkly blorbo babygirl lol, heated discussions about whether dr. ratio displayed the same racism towards aventurine that sparkle did and if that makes aventurine/ratio a bad thing to ship (??????????), more thirstposts about aventurine, 500 billion generic yaois of aventurine and ratio that don't even maintain either of their characters*

me:

#HONKAI STAR RAIL IS SO GOOD AND YET NO ONE SEEMS TO WANT TO TALK ABOUT WHAT MAKES IT GOOD #I FEEL ACTUALLY INSANE #I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE STORY!!!!! AND THE CHARACTERS AS INDIVIDUALS #NOT ABOUT HOW HOT THEY ARE OR WHO THEY CAN BE SHIPPED WITH #aventurine isn't even that sexy his eyes are the most interesting part about his design (HIS DESIGN. HIS CHARACTER IS MORE INTRIGUING)#the rest of it is just kind of ... like. yeah he's a blonde man. ok.#and my thoughts on aventio are i think ratio would betray aventurine for a single corn chip. and aventurine would do the same #i do not see a romance ever blossoming there. not even an enemies to lovers kinda thing. they're both too busy playing 5d chess for that #i want to talk about FIREFLY. I LOVED FIREFLY :(#i want to talk about acheron. and MISHA. SWEET BOY WHAT'S GOING ON?#there's so many interesting things going on rn and aventurine is not one of them.#like ok he knows some things but he's such a sleazy businessman about sharing info that idgaf i don't want to learn anything from him #he's always going to leave something out. because he needs to always have an advantage. for this reason i ignore 80% of what he says #i've gotten more context and clues out of everyone else he is nothing to me. i'll eat him.

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holographic-mars · 3 days

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kind of obsessed with the concept of soundwave smelling like an "alright guy" to ravage when they first met, too. like what does that mean. what does it mean to Smell like a good person. ravage can just smell the vibes of people and assign them moral alignment?? it's so funny to me

YEAH YEAH HEHAHSHDF you smell like a cool guy I guess come join my evil family

She had also mentioned that she smelled his fear so I think it’s actually a really cool concept of her being able to smell emotions n like. Vibes. n stuff

#she doesn’t explain it at all she just says yeah I can smell things that other people can’t #which I’m assuming is bc she’s like yeah this guy is a little crazy he’s probably not even aware of what’s going on right now #so much therapy potential for ravage #I already have the idea of ravage being a ‘service animal’ for lack of a better term #to soundwave #she’d hate being called that so I won’t ever say it again I’m sorry ravage #but yeah like #provides support and assistance and guidance for soundwave #woe disables your Soundwave and gives him a support ravage #alright I’m done I needed to ramble mindlessly I have too many thoughts in my brain #RAHH I LOVE THEM #anyways #not ship #I repeat NOT. A SHIP

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factorialsotherfandoms · 5 months

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The eggs are asleep, and finally Philza and Missa can catch a moment to themselves. Unfortunately, catching that moment means admitting to the injuries they have been hiding from their children - fussing over scratches while having arrowheads lodged next to your spine is the duty of a parent on Quesadilla Island, but an exhausting one.

Missa's quick fingers manage to pull said arrowhead from Philza's back, the momentary flash of pain causing him to nearly drop the iodine solution. He doesn't, though, just a little stain on the floorboards, and so he continues applying it to the wound in Missa's leg.

He barely notices the scratch of a needle against his back, but Missa cannot help but whine as the gauze is pressed against his wound.

"I hate it here," Missa manages, thankfully in English as Philza is in no position to twist and see his translator. "Why is everything trying to kill us?"

"The island fucking hates us, is why," Philza grouches, reaching over for a bandage. He's managed to get Missa's leg to stop bleeding, but it should still be covered. "Enjoy the island my ass."

Missa giggles a bit, even as he tapes a dressing in place over the arrow wound. He says something in Spanish which is definitely too fast for Philza to parse; he tries to turn and look, only to be gently pressed back into position.

"It's nothing," Missa assures him. "But the skeletons! Why are they so bad?"

"The skeletons aren't even the worst of it," Philza groans back. "If you ever see glowing eyes and nothing else? Run."

There's a long pause, and Philza hopes that Missa understands the severity of his warning - a Nightmare Stalker is exactly that, and Philza knows Missa is not nearly equipped to handle one. If he struggles as he does, he doesn't want to think about how his partner would suffer in his stead.

"It's okay," Missa pats his shoulder a few times, leaning around his wings to do so. "I'm good at running. It's my special talent!"

"You're good at a lot of things," Philza promises.

Missa doesn't reply; this time when Philza turns, he is allowed to. His entire body aching he sits himself up and twists himself around, taking Missa's face him his hands.

"You are so good," he promises. "So, so good. There's nobody else I would want to raise my eggs with."

There's more on the tip of his tongue; Philza quashes it as Missa closes his eyes, rest of his expression hidden by his mask.

Philza can see Missa struggle with his words for a bit - he's always amazed how someone can make themselves understood in two languages - before eventually receiving, "you are the best egg father."

"We have the best egg child," he retorts.

"We do!" Missa's entire body language perks up. "Chayanne is the best egg child, and he is ours. We are so lucky."

"We really are."

Philza isn't sure when it happens, but eventually he realises that he has leant forward, his forehead resting against Missa's mask. He closes his eyes and savours it, feeling as Missa loosely places his arms across his bare back - Philza needs his for support, one either side of Missa's hips and taking his weight, but otherwise he would do much the same.

The two of them stay in silence for a while, savouring each other's presence. The pain is still there, from protecting their children, and yet... In a simple house of oak and glass, for a moment it is all peace.

"Run away with me."

This is not how Philza had ever meant to bring it up, but the words slip out of their own accord.

Missa startles, eyes wide and spine straight as he blinks himself out of the peaceful haze, "qué?!"

"Run away with me," he shifts so he can see all of Missa's face, taking both of his partner's hands in his own. "Take the children, and run away. Find a way off this island, and to another world - one where the skeletons are the /only/ thing to worry about. I'll build you another house and we'll make it a home. Any colour you like, with a fence and walls and real bedrooms and a kitchen for Chayanne and gardens for Tallulah... You can have your own music room and kick Wilbur out for trying to steal your guitar, and we can sit on the roof in the moonlight and you can sing and I'll dance with the children asleep beneath us and no risk of zombie horsemen on our tail."

"But how-" a small whine catches in Missa's throat. "How do we get away? They said we cannot leave."

"There's always a way to leave," Philza says. "We just have to find it."

There's hands in his wings, and Philza startles.

"Your wings are so big... If they healed, you could fly away," Missa says, something wishful in his tone. "Up and up and far, far away, so far they could never catch you."

"And leave you behind?" he asks.

"You'd come back for Chayanne. And I... I could follow you then?"

"Even if something happens to Chayanne, I'd come back for you," Philza promises. "I won't leave you here, not in this hell."

"You wouldn't leave anyone here, if you could help it."

"Probably," Philza admits. "But I wouldn't come back for them, not if I didn't know I could escape again - I'd come back for you."

"I'll wait for you," Missa seems almost to melt in Philza's touch, whimpering as he curls in on him. Philza isn't even sure what he said wrong, just that his egg partner is clinging to him, whimpering.

"We might not always be together," he tries to reassure. "But I will always come back for you - I'll always find you. There's no point in running away if we don't run away together; if some day I /can/ fly away, I'd only do it to come back with help."

The whimpering turns to sobbing, and Philza adjusts his position to hold Missa properly. The hands in his feathers dig deep - one finger catches on some tape holding one of the litany of dressings in place - but Philza just holds Missa and worries.

Why this reaction? Was it something he said?

He stops talking just in case; Missa clearly wants a hug, so he just holds him, understanding only odd words of the broken fragments of Spanish between the sobs.

Eventually the tears slow; Missa pulls away, still sniffling.

"And... Spreen can come?"

"He can live next door, if he wants," Philza promises; it'll be a little hard to negotiate with Fit, but interpersonal drama is just a part of life. "A whole new town for /everyone/ - all of the islanders, and all of our friends. Maybe if we let his ex in Forever will even stop hitting on me."

That earns a laugh, if a bit of a wet one.

"I want to dance with you," Missa says.

"With no zombie riders," Philza promises. "Maybe tomorrow we could dance a bit at the Favela? But, one day, we'll do it somewhere safe."

"On the roof, under the moon?"

"I'll make a roof specially designed for it."

The tears slow some more, and Missa drops to actually lie on the bed.

"Do you really think we'll escape?" Missa turns to Philza and asks. "We broke the Wall, and the Federation-"

Philza moves to lie beside him - on his front while Missa is on his back - and takes a hand. "We will. I promise."

"But-"

"Someone cleverer than us will work it out," he smiles to Missa. "We've just got to survive while they do."

"And if they don't?"

"Then I'll burn the Federation to the ground."