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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 3 days

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To Watch Over You

Rating: K+/General with mild themes

Setting: mostly between the end of the Invasion arc and the beginning of the Arrancar arc.

Synopsis: Momo recalls when she woke up after Aizen’s betrayal, and the guilt that it entailed.

AN: a random drabble I wrote while in the middle of writing the winner of my latest poll. I realised after writing this I’d like to write more about Momo after Aizen left the Soul Society and she recovered in Fourth Division.

It’s a scenario I don’t think is likely to have occurred, but I still wanted to explore it.

Anyhow, hope you enjoy it!

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It’s a small memory, one that Momo doesn’t care to recall often.

The first thing she remembers is the smell, a combination of medicinal and sterile scents. Before even blinked her eyes open, she knew it was Fourth Division.

It was dark, with only a faint ceiling light and the moonlight peaking through the curtained windows illuminating the room. She got lost watching the faint shadows of tree branches dancing across the ceiling, forgetting for a moment she’d just woken up with no memory of what had happened just before.

Slowly, her other senses came back to her. Her mouth was dry and tasted bitter. Her skin was also dry, and she a sheet coming up to her shoulders and a firm pillow beneath her head. Her toes were cold, but her fingers were warm. Her left arm rested over the sheet, and her peripheral, there was an IV bag and the tube leading to somewhere underneath her sleeve. A drowsy fatigue lingers, making her eyelids head, whispering for her to close them and return to the darkness.

What kept her from doing so was the pain coming from her abdomen. It simmered beneath whatever the officers had administered her with to dull it. She didn’t move a muscle, afraid to flare it up.

When she parts her lips to call out for someone, she can’t find her voice. How long had she been here for?

She concentrated on the ceiling, but her head was fuzzy. Her mind swirled around, making coherent thought impossible. Memories wanted to rush forward, but she pushed them back down with what little strength she had. It didn’t stop her from remembering the source of the pain, and without realising, she’d lifted her hand beneath the covers and put it over her abdomen.

She bit hard on the inside of her lip as her eyes stung and clouded with tears. She couldn’t block out the image of Aizen’s smile. It had been warm and gentle, but it morphed into something cruel and victorious. Then, it vanished, and she’d fallen to the floor. She’d barely felt the pain could only stare ahead as darkness crept in.

She shook her head, trying not to sob. He couldn't have done it, she must be misremembering. And if he had, it surely wasn't of his own volition.

She should get someone. She opened her mouth again to try and call out, but when she turned her head to the right, she was rendered speechless.

Toshiro sat in the chair beside her bed, his arms loosely folded and his head craned to the right, almost resting on his shoulder. His eyes were shut, and to Momo’s muddled bafflement, he was asleep.

The sight of him is enough to make the memories fall back. The beginnings of a smile twitched on her lips, temporarily forgetting where she is and the other painful memories that threatened to surface.

How can anyone sleep like that? she wondered. It’s going to hurt if he stays like that.

She gingerly began to sit up. She cringed at the stiffness of her arms, but still used them to push herself up. She kept her legs still, even as the abdomen pain flared up. She struggled for a moment,and her skin almost broke out in a sweat when the threatened pain became too much.

It was as though she stood on edge of a cliff, with another cliff in front of her she needed to jump to. For a moment she got lost on that idea, imagining the scenario playing out her head. She frowned when a almost a whole minute had passed and she hadn’t done anything else. My head’s a mess.

With a grunt, she forced herself the rest of the way up -- she did this while absently imagining herself jumping to and landing on that other cliff. She caught herself from doubling over, hands flying ahead of her to land on either side of her sheet covered legs. Her hair, tied in a side pony tail, fell over her left shoulder.

The fatigue was stronger, coming crushing over her in a wave. She tried to shake it off, gritting her teeth as she forced herself to lean back until her back was against the pillow and headboard.

She returned her attention to Toshiro. He hadn’t stirred. She isn’t surprised; he’d been able to sleep through loud booms of thunder whenever she slept over at his house when they were children.

He’d been close, his elbow only centimeters from the edge of the bed. She reached across, planning to shake his shoulder. Her hand stilled before she could touch him, her pinkie and ring fingers only a hair’s breadth away from his haori.

Something in her caused her to hesitate. She watched her childhood friend sleep. The light illuminated the side of the face she could see, showing her faint bags under his eye. Why wasn’t he sleeping?

Several heartbeats later, the image of Toshiro staring at her in shock hit her. Her eyes stung anew and she snatched her hand to cover her mouth. Her chest clenched, almost as painful as the abdomen. Tears flowed down over her fingers.

What have I done?

She’d raised her sword against him, had betrayed his trust, and thought him a murderer despite her reservations. She’d been conflicted when she’d confronted him, so determined to believe in Captain Aizen’s final wish but doubting – knowing completely – that Toshiro wouldn’t be capable of such a heinous crime.

She must apologize to him and explain what was going through her mind. She tried to think of where to start. Any ideas or words she began to conjure up were tumbled away by the disorientation in her head and the memories making her chest hurt. The overwhelm her, images flashing of what happened, until she can't take it and buries her head in her hands, almost screaming for them to stop.

The movement of her arm caused the pole the IV was attached to to clatter behind her. With a gasp, she peaked through her fingers at Toshiro. He stirred, falling further to the right, and his elbow shifted into his lap, out of reach. He did not wake.

Slowly, as if her hands were keeping the memories at bay and removing them would cause them to flood her mind, she drew her fingers away. She focused on her breath, trying to catch it.

She was scared to speak with him, but she also needed to. She wanted to seek forgiveness, but he may not give it to her. It’s within his right not to, and that hurts her…and yet some part of hoped, or perhaps even knew, he might.

It wasn’t enough to make her reach out for him again.

“I’m not ready.” she whispered to herself, a tremor running through her raspy voice. “I’m sorry, Shiro-chan...but I'm not ready.”

Despite the pain in her chest abdomen, the fatigue came rushing back like a wave rapidly flowing in during a high tide. It was stronger this time, enough to convince her to let it ebb her away back to the darkness. Her movements became slow and sloppy when she wiped away her tears and eased herself back down. She tried to lie as she had before, her left arm over the covered, her legs straight, and her head turned to the ceiling.

She couldn't turn her head back to the ceiling, however. She continued to stare at her childhood friend. He's at peace now, and she'd almost disturbed it. But really, hadn't she done so already?

I'll talk to him tomorrow, she thought absently, I'll know to say by then.

The last thing she saw before shutting her eyes was Toshiro, still asleep.

She’s brought out of her reverie when the Captain-Commander gives her the cue to come forward. She finds the strength against the nerves to walk forward, coming past Yamamoto and Chojiro, but only staring at the gigantic screen before them.

Momo's heart palpitates as she watches Toshiro expression change from confusion to shock. He murmurs something she doesn’t hear. As she approaches, more memories come flooding back. They make her raise her hand to chest, as if to ease the squeeze they cause to her heart.

He says her name, and she can only say his back in return.

They stare at each other for what feels like an hour, before Toshiro’s expression calms and he speaks again, asking if she should be up.

While answering back, she thinks on those memories, ones that she is going to seek forgiveness for, including for that night in the Fourth Division. While it paled in comparison to the other transgressions she’d committed against him, she feels a strange guilt about what happened that night. She'd woken up the next day, this time during the day and alone. The day after she’d awakened, Toshiro had left for the World of the Living. When she’d received news of this from Isane, it occurred to her she hadn’t thought about why he was at her bedside.

Had she expected him to be there for her when she spoke up or when her recovery was announced? Isane had said he'd visited her almost twice a week ever since she's been transported to the Fourth Division. But why, after everything that had happened between them, had he come to visit her at all?

She could’ve spoken to him that night, but she hadn’t. She feels as though she had tricked him, and the disorientation of her mind was no excuse, no matter what Isane told her after she confessed what happened to her fellow lieutenant. Or maybe he already knows, had seen the way her head was turned was different from when he'd fallen asleep. Would it be easier if he knew?

A part of her had tried to reason over the last week that if she’d spoken to him that night she might have made things worse, or said something she hadn’t meant. And would he have wanted to speak to her? In the days after leaving the Fourth Division, she vaguely recalled voices sounding through the darkness. She couldn’t make out what they said, but she knew who they belonged to. Renji, Izuru, Isane, Unohana, Rangiku, and some of her subordinates. Toshiro’s hadn’t been among them.

In the present, a silence has fallen between them as she stares at the floorboards, lost in these thoughts. She tries to both decide where to begin and muster up the courage to speak. First, she’ll discuss the worst of her wrongdoings against him, then the night she woke up. He may not view it was something to feel guilt over, and she may seek forgiveness if only to ease her conscience. She would've laughed to herself if she felt it appropriate; she wishes she were older.

With her plan in mind, she says the words she’d wanted to say to him that night. “Hitsugaya-kun…forgive me.”

#hitsuhina #momo hinamori #toshiro hitsugaya #bleach #fanfiction #angst

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i-eat-worlds · 2 months

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okay worlds i need your medical knowledge again.

i have a character in an apocalypse setting with no professional surgeons or doctors or hospitals in reach. they have a burn from below the left hip to the ankle, covering almost the whole leg. they have access to pharmacies, medicines and bandages, as well as five other people to care for them. i'd like the burn to be third degree, but I also need them to survive.

what is the worst degree of burn I can give them? is a skin graft possible for someone with limited medical knowledge to perform? what are the treatments, how long would it take them to get out of critical condition, and how would I ensure they survive without a professional doctor?

burn traits right now are flexible. if I can't burn their whole leg that's okay lol

thank you worlds I appreciate you <3

- @whump-kia

Thanks for the ask Kia!

disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, I’m just a nerd. Take all of this with a grain of salt. Or several.

Okay, so the severity of burns is determined by a two factors: How much skin in burned (measured by the percentage total body surface area burned. You’ll see it abbreviated as TBSA) and how deep those burns are (first degree or superficial, second degree or partial thickness, or third degree or full thickness).

The burn you’ve described (in my unprofessional opinion) would be about 18-15 % TBSA. Keep in mind that the burns wouldn’t be only third degree, their edges would be second degree, and it would sorta “fade in.”

It’s also important to take into account which areas were burned. Burns to the face, hands, genitalia, or major joints are more severe. Your injury includes a knee, which is another area of concern.

Other important things:

For a variety of reasons, burns consume a lot to fluids. Your character is at risk for dehydration and hypovolemia. In non-apocalyptic environments, they’ve be given copious amounts of IV fluids to replace what they’ve lost. This is primarily a concern in the first 24 hrs.

Hypothermia is also a concern. One of the skin’s big jobs it to insulate the body. If a large surface area has been damaged, your character will start to loose heat. They make things called “burn sheets” to help with this. They’re sterile and are designed to insulate and not stick to burns. If your character has access to a pharmacy they might have some of these.

Cytokines are a proteins that affect the immune system. They’re released when the body experiences a significant injury, like a burn. Sometimes, too many are released, causing a condition called cytokine storm. This results in feelings of fatigue and nausea, a fever, and a drop in blood pressure. This is seen around 48-72 hours after injury.

Eschar is a hardened tissue that can develop with severe burns. If the burn encircles a limb, the eschar can put pressure on the limb, cut off blood flow, and cause compartment syndrome. This doesn’t always happen-the skin can also slough off. This is sometimes called “skin slip.” I would not google photos of this unless you are brave. Infection is another big issue. Infected burns will be purulent, smell awful, and be extra painful. Burns are prone to tetanus, so I hope your characters booster it up to date. Infection can eventually lead to sepsis.

———

Treatment:

In the environment you’re in, treatment is going to consist of having your character drink lots of fluids, keeping the burn covered in clean, sterile dressings, and providing pain medication if available.

Their mobility is going to be limited, and they’re going to need help to meet a lot of their basic needs: toileting, nutrition, etc.

Without access to a hospital, there’s not a whole lot that can be done. You mentioned skin grafting, and that’s basically a hard no. It’s extremely painful, creates another open wound, and carries a high risk of infection. A surgeon doing a skin graft in this situation is unadvisable, a non-surgeon attempting this procedure is highly unadvisable. It’s best to keep them warm, hydrated, and comfortable, and keep the burns clean and covered.

———

If you want a better, more probable good outcome, I would change a couple of things. First of all, I would reduce the amount of surface area the burn takes up. Having the burns of just on the thigh and the calf would remove the knee from the equation and make the injury less severe. Furthermore, I’d make most of the burns second degree. You can have some smaller areas of full thickness burns, but second degrees will heal quicker, and, because they leave nerve endings intact, they’ll hurt more! More superficial 2nd degree burns should heal in one-three weeks, and deeper 2nd degree burn might take as many as nine weeks. If the burn takes longer than two weeks to heal, it will likely scar.

Hope this was helpful!

Sources:

Blood on the Page by Samantha Keel (cannot recommend this book enough)

StatPearls: Burn Evaluation and Management

StatPearls: Burn Evaluation and Resuscitation

Cleveland Clinic: Second Degree Burns

Cleveland Clinic: Third Degree Burns

Physiopedia: Burn Shock

#worlds babbles #ask stuff #burns #long post #injuries cw #if you’re a real medical professional feel free to add on I’m here to learn!

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demonophilia · 6 months

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dni

minors, or no age listed. this is an instant block. have your age plainly listed either in your bio or pinned post.

raceplay, ageplay (dd/lg, md/lb, or any variation on those), detrans/misgendering, sexism/misogyny, sissy/forcefem, beastiality, incest (including step/adopted/fauxcest) , or orientationplay (ex. 'turning' lesbians. fuck off

proana/promia/thinspo/any kind of ed blogs i have an ed and these blogs are INCREDIBLY triggering for me. do not interact with me. i will block you.

scat, vore, inflation etc. nothing wrong with these but i'll most likely block if theyre a main focus of our blog. if i follow first, this doesnt apply!

any "icky x" shit. generally falls under the ageplay or incest umbrella, but i wanted to make sure i was clear. if i see any variation on those tags on your post, i will block.

chasers please just be normal LMAO

boundaries

do not ask about my private life/ask for my sfw blog. again, this is only if we aren't friends/close. i might post abt it in vague terms and its fine to ask abt minor things (how was your day etc) but dont pry. i am literally a porn blog im on here to get people off LMAO im not that interesting

if i say no or say to stop, stop. this should be obvious. if i say no, i mean no. this includes if im being dominant. if you repeatedly disrespect a boundary ive set, i will block you. if you arent clear on a boundary, ask!

more info under the cut ⬇️

about

hii im connor :] i use it/its, he/him, and she/her pronouns. i'm bisexual + bigender (tme, and i have a cunt), and i'm fine with both feminine and masculine petnames (see petnames section below :]) i'm a vers and a switch, though recently i've been heavily sub leaning. feel free to send me dom-focused asks, i just can't guarantee i'll get to them too quickly!

i love getting asks, especially sexual ones (obviously). just be certain that youre respecting my boundaries! i understand slip-ups, but try your best to "respect" me (obviously disrespect me lmao but yk what i mean). if you'd like to use an emoji for your asks, lmk and i'll tag the answers with that emoji :]

the terms i use for my anatomy are fairly loose, but do not use the term "bonus hole" or any variation to refer to my cunt. boypussy is fine, but i don't really find it very sexy LMAO. also, i call my clit a cock or tdick. it's fine to use clit for it, but i prefer the other 2.

petnames

i looove petnames :] feel free to use any of these (unless i specify otherwise), id honestly prefer you using these over my actual name LMAO.

angel, baby, darling, etc. these aren't sexual, but feel free to use them! i find them cute :]

toy/doll/fucktoy/thing etc. i love being objectified/dehumanized so these are always a good bet LOL

puppy, dog, pet, mutt, kitten, kitty, etc. bonus points for "bad dog" which makes me crazy in my head

good boy/girl/toy etc.

slut/whore/cumdump etc. i love most degrading names, lol. go wild with these, if i don't like one i'll lyk :]

sir/miss. when i am domming, these are generally the titles i prefer. feel free to try others though! (aside from daddy/mommy.)

go wild! the ones above are some of my favorites/the ones that immediately came to mind, but feel free to try other ones :] like i said if i don't like it i'll just lyk, no harm done!

kinks

i should note that i enjoy all my kinks from both directions, whether im dom or sub :] due to my frequently subby nature some of these descriptions are worded in terms of Me being the sub but i love them when im domming also basically.

praise i adoree being praised... generally i prefer it mixed in with degradation ^_^ tell me if im doing a good job, making you happy, etc! i also love praise when im domming please lmk if youre enjoying yourself i like knowing im getting people off :]

degradation another favorite ^_^ as ive mentioned, i love being dehumanized and sexualized. call me stupid, useless, etc. aside from words, i do enjoy being made to do degrading tasks <3 Also idk where to put this but i lovee spit spit in my mouth spit on me Whatever

painplay hitting, slapping, choking, biting etc are some of my favorites. i also enjoy knifeplay and gunplay. anything that will leave bruises/marks will make me wet <3

somno/intox i enjoy both of these, but i am very picky about them, and i'd probably won't talk about them a lot because of how picky i am.

monsterfucking vampires werewolves angels demons tentacles etc etc etc i go crazy for them . i do want to do unspeakable things to a service top werewolf this is true.

petplay i should note that i'm fairly picky about petplay as well! i mainly prefer the petnames, collars/leashes, etc. i don't enjoy anything about cages or being made to bark (though i don't mind phrases like "puppies don't talk" and stuff like that)

bondage, gags, handcuffs etc. pleasee tie me up and tell me what you'd do to me <3 i have an oral fixation so any use of my mouth is very appreciated <3

breeding I LOOOOOVE BREEDING im crazy abt it. if you threaten to knock me up i Will beg for it lol. i don't really care abt any actual pregnancy details, aside from future hypotheticals (youre gonna be so big, im gonna fuck another baby into you after, etc)

exhibitionism/voyeurism if i didnt get off on ppl looking at me i wouldnt have made this blog love and light .

this list is nonexhaustive! i like a lot of kinks, so feel free to bring up any you think i'd like, so long as they aren't on my dni or anything. worst case scenario i just won't like them and i'll lyk LOL.

MISC

mutuals feel free to dm me if you'd like ;] i tend not to initiate bc i have a hard time telling when its normal to reach out LOL, so if you want to talk to me, please do! everyone else can talk to me through the ask box!! once again, Please sexualize me (why would i make this blog if i didnt wanna be sexualized lmao) but respect my boundaries <3

related to above, but if you get off to my posts/thinking of me, id love to know :] i loveee getting ppl off so <3 and if im feeling dommy i might tease you abt it LOL

i do my best to tag specific kinks for navigation (and to tag hard kinks with tw (kink)) but i might slip up/forget! if you notice an issue with the tags, feel free to lmk and ill get that fixed :]

also i should note i am bisexual bigender, so im fine being rbed with both wlw/nb and mlm/nb tags ! lmk if youre uncomfortable with me interacting with yr content in any way 👍

ty for reading this whole long thing :D i tend to ramble a lot lol... i don't rly have anything to give you for reading it all buttttt feel free 2 like if youve read all this also youre my favorite and you can do whatever you want to me (joke (or is it!?))

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piquedpequod · 5 months

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"The Light That Never Came" - fanmix for Ketheric Thorm from Baldur's Gate III Listen: (Youtube | Spotify) Lyrics:

The Lamentations of Jeremiah - Vince Clarke

Surrender to Failure - Korn Lost alone here in the dark Looking for answers I will never find, I'll never find God knew all along that He would take you And the demons were set loose to claim their prize, I am their prize

And I would do anything to bring you back to me If only God would let me turn back time

Paint It Black - The Tea Party I wanna see it painted, painted black Black as night, black as coal I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky

Die Another Night - Korn Nobody cares, you're just a bad man Nobody wants you, you're a dead man Waking from my darkest dream Bring me from my mind

We rip apart the flesh and live to see And look at all the faces along the way The terror grips me close and holds me tight And hope I get to die yet another night

Minus It All - Red There's still something there when it dies I'm cleaning bones Spending time with change Reeling from the way it was

The dark makes a dead man rise And strips away your brilliant disguise

Tragedy - Love And Death I've been running from the light Feels like I've been Searching for a thousand years inside of me (It's nothing but broken) Return for more just to feed my tragedy

What have I won? What have I done?

Ocean - Goldfrapp ft. Dave Gahan I've lost the will to I've lost my way I've lost this ocean I poisoned me

I borrowed bones, I borrowed skin To save me from the hell I'm in Your fantasy And every time I think of you I see the dark, I hear their hooves They're coming They're coming for you

You Want It Darker - Leonard Cohen If you are the dealer I'm out of the game If you are the healer It means I'm broken and lame If thine is the glory then Mine must be the shame You want it darker We kill the flame

Hineni, hineni I'm ready, my Lord

Something Wicked This Way Comes - Carter Burwell

Hell - Bi-2 Rain of ashes pours from the eyes The dark abyss is looking at us There will be no other path If you're going to hell, I'm with you

Death - Judas Priest I will take your final breath And I will be your last regret Cold blood runs in my blackened heart Tearing every soul apart

Messenger of death Wields the scythe of man's damnation Messenger of death Hold his blade for termination

Pompeii - E.S. Posthumus

IV - Echoes and Signals

Dirty Day - U2 They say be careful where you aim 'Cause where you aim, you just might hit You can hold onto something so tight You've already lost it

Wake up - some things you can't get around I'm in you - more so when they put me in the ground

These days, days, days run away like horses over the hill These days, days, days run away like horses over the hill

started Nov. 2023, fin. Dec. 2023 cover updated Mar. 2024

#ketheric thorm #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanmix

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charturnus · 2 years

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Not because she owns me, but 'cause she really knows me

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

a/n: It’s finally out!! 😭 In case you didn’t see, I’m currently nearing the end of my last semester, and I am SWAMPED with work, which is why fic writing had to be put on hold. I have 4 more weeks until I’m done, after which I’ll return to a regular upload schedule. I’m nervous about putting this out, because I want to be true to what it means to have a healthy d/s dynamic, whilst also keeping in mind that this is highly dramatized fiction. I hope you’ll enjoy!

Warnings: d/s dynamic (not explicitly sexual)

Wordcount: 4.8k

Summary: Chapter IV; Did you get enough of love, my little dove? AU

The one where Pepper shows off her puppy, you plan a staged kiss, and you get on your knees for Wanda.

Previous chapter

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

‘’Pepper is coming over today’’

She says it casually as she thumbs through a set of documents on the couch next to me. It’s the first time either of us has spoken in an hour, both of us engrossed in our own activities, Wanda busy with her work, and me, fixated by a novel.

It’s been a month since I moved into the Maximoff residence, and I’ve seen neither hide nor hair from Pepper or anyone from the company for that matter. So, my ears perk up at this news. ‘’Has she decided it’s finally time for me to make my grand entrance?’’

Wanda shakes her head, smiling. ‘’It’ll be something along those lines, though I can never quite tell what schemes she’s cooking up.’’ I assumed Pepper was informing Wanda of everything to do with this whole affair. I raise my eyebrows inquisitively. ‘’She hasn’t told you what she’s planning?’’

She snorts loudly. ‘’I’m telling you, even if the CIA got hold of Pepper and let all their torture tactics loose on her, she still wouldn’t budge.’’ I pull a face. ‘’That’s a bit much, don’t you think?’’ Wanda just shrugs, taking off her glasses and setting the papers aside. ‘’You get used to it. But that’s not why I brought this up, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.’’

Her serious demeanour takes me somewhat by surprise, and I briefly wonder if I’ve done something to upset her. I set my book aside and turn my full attention onto Wanda.

‘’Pepper’s going to bring someone with her today, so it’s time for us to have a long-overdue chat.’’ The grave look on her face unsettles me, and I shift restlessly on the sofa, my nails picking at the fuzz on my jumper. ‘’This is very important to me, so I’m going to need you to try to have an open mind, alright? Can you do that for me?’’

My brows knit together, but I nod seriously. ‘’Of course, you know you can trust me.’’ I mean it too, knowing that whatever she asked me to do, I’d try my hardest to accomplish. The sight of her reassuring smile works wonders for the tight knot of anxiety building in my stomach.

‘’Pepper is going to bring her girl over.’’

I stare at her blankly, my sluggish mind trying to put the pieces together. ‘’Her girl… friend?’’ I ask uncertainly. Wanda smiles at me. ‘’Yes, Pepper’s girlfriend. But it’s important for you to know that their relationship isn’t exactly what you might be expecting. They-’’

My mouth hangs open rather unflatteringly, and I can’t help myself, I have to interrupt her. ‘’I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around Pepper having time to have a girlfriend.’’

This draws a hearty, earnest laugh from Wanda. ‘’Oh honey, you don’t know half of it.’’

‘’No, I’m serious, I’m telling you, if you’d let her sleep in her office, she would.’’

She’s trying very hard to suppress her laughter, fighting the smile creeping up on her face. ‘’That’s all well and good, but I’m trying to tell a story here.’’ To her credit, she pulls off a stern look quite well. It brings me back to the office days.

I raise my hands up defensively. ‘’Okay, alright. I’m sorry, please continue.

***

So, Pepper has a girlfriend. Wanda tells me that her name is Kate and that she’s only four months older than me. She tells me a bunch of other things, something about Kate’s rich mother and her being an accomplished archer. But all of that falls to the wayside quite quickly when Wanda delves into the particulars of her relationship with Pepper.

‘’She’s her what now?’’

I am struggling to keep myself composed. It’s not that this concept is foreign to me, far from it. I just can’t quite wrap my head around Pepper, stuck up, wound tight, prim and proper, Pepper, being into this.

‘’That’s just what Pepper calls her, she’s not treated as an actual pet.’’ Wanda says, before backtracking. ‘’Well, maybe a little bit, but that doesn’t matter right now.’’

‘’So… They do that stuff together, like, in public?’’

Wanda quirks a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching, as though she’s struggling against an upcoming smirk. ‘’That stuff?’’

Quite suddenly, my cheeks feel very warm. ‘’You know, like kinky stuff.’’

‘’Oh?’’ Wanda says, shuffling closer to me on the sofa. ‘’I didn’t think a sweet girl like you would know anything about that.’’ She’s grinning widely, and I can’t hold eye contact with her any longer. I study the dotted pattern of my socks, determined to ignore the definite heat in my face and neck. ‘’I know plenty of things.’’ I shrug, hoping it comes off as indifferent. ‘’I just want to know if they do it in public, I don’t know why else you’d have to tell me this.’’

Wanda on her part graciously avoids mentioning my knowledge in this area any further, and we spend a half-hour talking it all through. She patiently answers my questions to the best of her abilities. She explains in a gentle tone how these types of dynamics are important to Pepper, some of her other friends, and, most surprisingly to me, herself as well. In each other’s company, she tells me, they have agreed to allow each other to live out their dynamics in whichever way they like.

This leads to a myriad of questions from me, most of which make Wanda chuckle. Yes, sometimes they do sexual things, but not always. No, they don’t all have orgies all the time. Yes, they make sure every party consents before anything happens. No, they won’t be doing anything sexual today.

It’s a lot to take in.

‘’So, I take it you have done this too.’’

She’s quiet for a while, while she contemplates my question. Her eyes follow her finger as it traces patterns into the fabric of the sofa. ‘’I had a girl too, a while ago, and we had a dynamic. Pepper knew, and Agatha and Maria.’’

A hollow sort of feeling settles into my stomach at the thought of Wanda with some nameless, faceless girl. Before now, I hadn’t given it much thought, but the mere idea of it makes my blood flow like white-hot fire underneath my skin.

‘’It didn’t work out?’’ I ask, hopefully.

Wanda smiles morosely. ‘’I think she liked my money more than she ever liked me.’’

***

Five hours later, I’m sitting on the very edge of the sofa, trying to resist the urge to wipe my sweaty palms on it. I did my hair for the occasion, curling it in a pretty fashion. I even put on one of my nice dresses and picked out dangly earrings that sparkle in the light. For whose benefit this all is, I am not sure.

I can hear the voices in the hall, getting louder by the second, and I make sure to straighten my back. I am under strict instructions from Wanda to not address Kate, just say hello to Pepper and don’t mind her partner. My protests about how rude it would be to just ignore her were repeatedly disputed by Wanda, and I was overruled.

Pepper carries a thick folder in one hand, and in the other, a purple leash. It connects to a tight collar, like a dog’s, which is fastened around the girl’s throat. Instantly, I feel myself go bright red. I force myself to look at Pepper’s face, not the leash in her hand, and certainly not the slightly shorter brunette trailing behind her.

Pepper is immaculately put together, in a white skirt suit that compliments the deep red colour of her nails and lips. She wears a smug, satisfied look when she eyes me, waiting for a crack in my veneer, waiting for me to comment on the girl half-hidden behind her. I hold my tongue, remembering Wanda’s strict instructions to only greet Pepper. We exchange pleasantries, talking of small things, like the weather and the atrocious gas prices, as Pepper and her companion settle in. Wanda cosies up on the sofa next to me, but Pepper chooses an armchair opposite us, and the girl called Kate, sinks down onto the floor by her feet.

I am focused so intensely on not staring at the kneeling girl, that even though I see Pepper’s mouth move, her words don’t register in my head at all. Wanda’s steady hand covers my own, and I realize for the first time that I’m shaking. Pepper repeats her question, something about how much I enjoyed having Wanda to myself for a week. It’s easy enough to thank her for this, since I really am sincerely thankful for the time she allowed us to have together. After this, though, I hand the conversation over to Wanda and the old friends happily chatter away together as their two shadows silently flank them, watching, listening.

From the corner of my eye, I watch Kate. It’s difficult to do just from my peripheral vision, but I can tell that she’s resting her head against Pepper’s thigh, her knees tucked neatly under herself. Pepper has a hand in the girl’s hair, moving slowly, almost methodically, stroking her gently. Her eyes are closed, her breathing slow. I wonder what she’s thinking. I wonder what she’s feeling. I wonder if her knees ache. Mine would ache if I sat like that for so long. I wonder if Wanda would like it if I sat like that for her. I wonder-

A sharp prod in my side shakes me from my reverie, and I look up to see Pepper smirking at me from across the coffee table, a single eyebrow raised, waiting for my reaction, waiting for me to run from the room or to question the scene in front of me.

I don’t. Instead, I listen politely to Pepper repeating her question.

She wants us to attend a gala together, some charity fund-raiser. According to her, it’ll be the perfect way to hard launch our ‘relationship’.

‘’Just think about it!’’ She says, waving around the papers in her hand emphatically. ‘’The two of you, waltzing around this event together, no one knows who you are, of course-’’ She adds with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘’So that will work in our favour, everyone will be clambering to find out who you are and why Wanda brought you.’’

The thought of anyone genuinely wanting to know who I am, and perhaps going to certain lengths to find that out, unsettles me greatly. But Wanda looks so happy, her eyes crinkled up in a smile as she studies the booklet on the event that Pepper gave her. So, I decide to hold my tongue.

‘’So are we just supposed to go around telling everyone at the event that we’re dating, or…?’’ Upon seeing Pepper’s look of agitation, I trail off, letting my words die quietly in my throat.

Wanda riffles through a few of the documents on the coffee table and pulls out a slim folder. Through the see-through transparent sleeve, I can make out some sort of drawing, or animation. It looks like a still from an animated project that is still in development. Like those terrifying images of Disney characters before their animation is fully complete.

She pulls the sheets of paper out of the sleeve, handing them to me as Pepper pulls out her own version of this packet of papers. The paper is heavy and glossy, several large images printed out, each on their own sheet of paper. There’s a building plan, showing the skeleton of a large opera house. Locations are marked with red marker, showing the entrance, the exits, the bathrooms, locations marked with security, etc. There’s a guest list, pictures of hundreds of people printed out in neat little rows, their names, ages and occupations listed below them.

The images that capture my attention most, are the ones right at the front of the packet. The ones that are vaguely reminiscent of half rendered animations. The pictures show several different angles of the back of a limousine, they look like pictures taken through the windscreen of the car, the camera flash lighting up the backseat of the car, where two crudely animated people are clearly kissing.

***

Pepper lays out her plan step by immaculate step. She has it all worked out. The colour scheme of the outfits, the delicate matching jewellery, and even our path through the building have been planned out. Pepper has made sure that we will interact with all the right people, the guests who are well known to be gossips, so that we can be sure to be the talk of the evening.

‘’And then, after you’ve made your last round, the car will be waiting at the front entrance-’’ Wanda leans over to look at the building plan in my hands, where our path is stippled out in different coloured markers, the broken up line beginning and ending at the front entrance.

‘’There will be paparazzi, of course, some of them are our own, but not all, so be on your guard. You should look like you don’t want to be photographed, don’t smile or pose, and definitely don’t engage them. So, when you get-’’

‘’Hold on.’’ I interrupt her, raising my hand to stop her mid-sentence. At her feet, Kate shifts her weight, her eyes opening, watching me with reproach. ’’What do you mean by paparazzi of our own?’’ I’m addressing Pepper, but it’s Wanda who answers.

‘’We have bonds with some photographers who we pay to stage candid shots, whenever it’s necessary, to assist with some PR work.’’

‘’So that’s what we’re going to do? Stage a kiss and have them take the picture?’’

‘’If you had just let me finish, I would have got to it.’’ Pepper points out, idly twisting the leash between her fingers, her glossy red nails shining in the light. ‘’Once you’re in the car you’re going to drive a few blocks, the car you’re in won’t have a partition, and we’ll make sure our guys are stationed at the exact right spot to get the shot they need. The driver will give you a sign, and you two can get the show rolling.’’ She wiggles her eyebrows, and I make a point of not looking at Wanda.

‘’Come morning, you’ll be on the front page of every paper and magazine you can imagine.’’

***

Our guests leave after an hour and a half of more planning, many questions, and plenty of chatter between the two friends. Once, Pepper gives me a start, when she, mid-conversation, leans down to give Kate a long, languid kiss. I know I ought not to have stared, but the sight of Pepper hooking a single finger into the ring of Kate’s collar makes me freeze. She holds the girl’s face with one of her hands, nails digging into the skin of her cheek. Kate doesn’t seem to mind. Wanda’s eyes burn into the side of my head, I know I should look away. I don’t.

Once Wanda has walked the two of them out, she joins me back on the sofa. Now that we’re alone again, I feel comfortable enough to curl up on the cushions once more, my legs tucked under me. I lean against her with a heavy sigh and shut my eyes.

‘’That was a lot, huh?’’ Wanda chuckles, and my head bounces along with her shaking shoulders.‘’God, absolutely… At least it’s all been planned out for us, so we don’t have to think it all up too.’’ Wanda lays her head down on my own and hums thoughtfully. ‘’I meant with those two putting on that show.’’ She says quietly. ‘’It looked like you were a bit nervous.’’

‘’Oh.’’ I say stupidly. I did not expect Wanda to bring it up at all. I was so sure she would just breeze past it because it’s just so normal to her. ‘’I wasn’t really nervous, it was just-’’ I hesitate, not wanting to cause offence. ‘’unexpected.’’

Wanda doesn’t respond immediately, she just hums again, acknowledging what I said, but still allowing room for the statement to breathe. ‘’What did you not expect? I did explain to you what would happen.’’ She muses. ‘’But the kiss was a bit unexpected I guess, I told Pepper off for it when I let her out.’’

‘’I just don’t really understand why Kate would want to do that.’’ I blurt out, making Wanda laugh. ‘’Hey, I don’t want to make out with Pepper either, but to each their own.’’ I elbow her gently in her side, unable to stop myself from smiling. ‘’You know that’s not what I meant.’’

‘’Alright, I’m sorry! What did you mean by it, then?’’

‘’It’s just- I get the whole sexual aspect of it, but why would she want to sit on the floor like that when nothing sexual is happening, does she get off on that or something?’’

Wanda considers this for a moment, and when she speaks it seems to me like she chooses every word very carefully. ‘’Some people only engage in a dynamic for sexual reasons, so it’s confined to the bedroom. But there are some people who want more than that, and they choose to live their lives like this. It’s what makes them happy, it’s how they function best as a couple. It goes way beyond sexual intimacy.’’

Theoretically, this makes perfect sense, but I still don’t quite understand how kneeling at Pepper’s feet is something that makes Kate happy if it’s nothing sexual, and I tell Wanda so.

‘’It’s a matter of giving up control, I think.’’ She says earnestly. ‘’She puts all of her trust in Pepper and gives up her autonomy. Think about it, Pepper tells her where to go, where to sit, and when to speak. She doesn’t have to make those decisions, she doesn’t even have to think about it. They’re a bit of an extreme example, but giving over that control makes her happy. And I think you know how much Pepper enjoys being handed control.’’

I nod slowly, mulling it all over in my head, wondering what it would be like to not have to make every minute decision for myself. ‘’Don’t you think it might be nice to let go every once in a while? Give the reins to someone else, so you can focus on emotions, as opposed to thoughts?’’

My heart stutters in my chest, picking up its pace, ever so slightly. ‘’I don’t know…’’ I hesitate. The idea of letting someone else do all the thinking for me sounds beyond freeing, but insecurity and doubt have me bound. ‘’I feel like I’d mess it up by being awkward or uncomfortable… I could only do that with someone I really trust.’’

I feel Wanda smile against my temple, her breath hot against my skin. ‘’Do you trust me?’’

I don’t hesitate, not for a single second. ‘’Yes.’’

‘’Would you like to try it out for yourself? Just to see what you think of it?’’ I flush, my neck and cheeks grow hot at the thought of myself kneeling at Wanda’s feet, just as I watched Kate do by Pepper’s. ‘’Wouldn’t that be… I mean- We don’t do that stuff together.’’

Wanda laughs, not mockingly, but sweetly, her voice gentle even in her laughter. ‘’It’s not sexual, not if we don’t want it to be. Think of it as meditation. You allow me to take over the burden of all of that thinking and worrying and all you have to do is do as I ask and sit quietly by me.’’ I nod my head before I get a chance to overthink it. What’s the harm? It’s just like Wanda said, it’s basically a meditation exercise.

‘’I have a phone call to make.’’ She says, as she gently extracts herself from me, swinging her legs down to sit primly upright. ‘’It won’t be long, maybe 10 minutes. You can sit between my legs, however you like, you don’t have to kneel if you don’t want to.’’

I am acutely aware of a slight tremble in my hands and the pressing heat of my cheeks. If Wanda notices the redness in my face, she doesn’t mention it, and I’m grateful for that. I move awkwardly, unsure at first of what position to take. I settle for sitting down with my back towards Wanda, in between her legs and resting against the soft cushion of the sofa. I swing my legs to the side, tidily tucking them out of the way.

‘’Are you comfortable?’’ Wanda asks, and I nod, grateful that I don’t have to look her in the eyes. A strange combination of shame and elation fills my chest, swirling around inside me, speeding up the beating of my heart and making my stomach clench in anxious anticipation.

‘’If you want to stop at any time, for whatever reason, give me two taps on my legs, okay? Can you do that now to show me you understand?’’ I tap the flat of my palm twice against her calf, the fabric of her trousers swishing as I do so.

‘’Good girl. When you tell me you want to stop, I’ll end the phone call immediately, alright? And don’t be scared to tap out, you’re safe with me.’’

I let out a long sigh, shifting the hem of my dress to cover the rapidly cooling skin of my calves. ‘’Okay, I think I’m ready.’’

***

Wanda begins her phone call, chatting away to Maria Hill, the woman who now holds my old position. For a few seconds, I listen attentively to the conversation, Wanda’s easy manner and the casual tone of voice reminding me of how well acquainted the two of them are. Then I remember that I shouldn’t be doing all this thinking, so I make an effort to clear my mind.

I take several deep breaths in through my nose, letting the air out through my mouth. Wanda must take notice of this, because her free hand finds my hair, smoothing it back from my forehead before sliding her fingers through the strands. Slowly, methodically, she scratches her nails over my scalp. The rhythm of her swirling fingers is hypnotizing, I close my eyes and allow the repetitive movement to lull me into a deep state of calm.

Everything else around me falls away, everything but the feel of Wanda’s fingers on my scalp and her voice somewhere in the distance. I lean against her thigh, resting the side of my face against the soft fabric of her trousers, feeling the gentle heat of her skin blooming underneath. My ear presses against her and I hear the blood thundering through my veins, like the crashing of ocean waves against the shore. Wanda’s hand steady in my hair feels like safety, like coming home after a long night out. It feels like hot chocolate during a snowstorm and being tucked into bed.

When her phone call ends, I feel strangely sad, and partly annoyed at having to stop so soon. But Wanda doesn’t make any move to end this, whatever we might call it. The room is silent now, no longer filled with Wanda’s low raspy voice, her accent thick on certain words. She’s sitting very still, not moving a muscle, almost like she’s trying not to disturb me.

I allow myself to adjust slowly, like waking myself up after a tiring night, gently coaxing my mind back to consciousness in the early hours of the morning. Groggily, I open my eyes, somehow surprised to find the room still permeated with daylight. I feel sleepy, my limbs heavy from relaxation. Wanda stirs for the first time, leaning down to cup my cheek. ‘’Are you okay, honey? Are you ready to get back up?’’ She asks, in a voice slightly above a whisper.

I let out a huge jawn, my jaw stretching wide, making Wanda chuckle. ‘’I’ll take that as a yes.’’ She pats the space next to her on the sofa. ‘’Now we get to the best part.’’

‘’Better than that?’’ I wonder out loud, as I gingerly extract myself from the floor. Once I’m out from between Wanda’s legs, she kicks off her shoes, laying back on the sofa, spreading her legs and indicating I should sit between them. ‘’Oh yes, because now I get to reward you for being so good.’’

Her arms wrap around my waist, guiding me to lay down with her, my head on her chest, one ear pressed down to hear the steady ‘thump, thump, thump’ of her heart. Over the course of the past month, Wanda and I haven’t shrunk from physical contact, hugs and casual cuddles are standard practice by now, but we hardly ever do anything more intimate than that, at least not during the daytime. In the late hours, it’s all different of course, under the cover of darkness and under the guise of tired delirium, we would hold one another all night, our bodies drawn to each other even in sleep.

It’s such a rarity to be this close to her at this time of day, and I revel in it. The deep thud of her heartbeat reverberates throughout my body, I breathe in her perfume and allow my eyes to close once more.

‘’You enjoyed that, didn’t you?’’ Wanda murmurs, her voice quiet, soft enough to not disturb the peace. ‘’You did so well, I’m very proud of you for trusting me and giving it a go.’’ I glow under her praise, it warms me from the inside out, like hot mulled wine on a blustery winter's day. I nod the best I can in this position. ‘’It was nice, I wish it would’ve lasted longer.’’ She hums thoughtfully. ‘’What did you like about it?’’

‘’Everything was so quiet, like I had nothing to worry about for a bit. And…’’ I trail off, my voice getting lost in the rapid current of thoughts, wondering what to say next, and if I ought to say anything at all. ‘’And?’’ Wanda prompts, gentle encouragement nudging me to tell the truth. ‘’And- It just felt good to do what you told me to, and it feels good for that to be acknowledged.’’ I say somewhat sheepishly, the heat returning to my face. ‘’Is that weird?’’

Her arms tighten around me, and she rubs my back with a gentle hand. ‘’It’s completely normal to feel that way, and I’m so proud of you for acknowledging those feelings, I know it isn’t easy.’’ It feels strange to be talked to in this way, for Wanda to treat my small confession as something worth being rewarded for. It’s embarrassing, but I’m still pleased, grateful for the attention in spite of it all.

‘’I think I just feel a bit weird about liking it, because it’s what Kate was doing, and her and Pepper… You know, they do that because of their… thing.’’ Wanda chuckles gently, our bodies swaying as her shoulders shake. ‘’You don’t have to compare what we did, with what they do. They have their own reasons for that dynamic. If you enjoy it and would like to do it again, there isn’t any harm in it. Like I said, it has nothing to do with sexual intimacy.’’

I turn my face up and towards her, the angle slightly awkward. ‘’We can do this again?’’

She’s looking down at me and I can see her face now, she scrunches up her nose affectionately. ‘’We can do this whenever you’d like, little dove.’’

I rest my head back fully on her chest, her skin is hot against my own where her shirt doesn’t cover it. I look at the skin of her bare arm, curled around my body, holding me tight against her. I reach out a finger, tracing the pattern of freckles, connecting them all like a star chart. She brushes my hair away from my face and presses a soft kiss to my temple.

My finger stops in its tracks. My skin burns where she kissed me, searing with the gentleness of it all. For half a heartbeat, I wonder what would happen if I turned my head and pressed my lips to hers. Then she leans back, resting her head against the sofa pillows, and the moment passes. My finger resumes its path across her arms. Her demeanour hasn’t changed, she lies there, relaxed, at ease.

Underneath my ear, pressed tight against her chest, her heart is racing.

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

Taglist:

@swirlofsnow @emeraldevan @ichala @romeo-the-cactus @lainjupi @messuhp @lissaaaa145 @princessprudy @333hhm @im-my-hope @inluvwithfictionalwomen @gay-trash-in-a-paperbag @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @imthenatynat @imnotawitch

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#char writes #c: wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #little dove au

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spotsupstuff · 1 year

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hi! ive been noticing your posts for a while now and ive been thinking about getting into rain world... would you mind telling me a bit about it? if not that's okay! im just curious cuz all these characters you've been drawing look really really good and it's kinda getting me hooked!

hmm hmmmm.... well what could i say... i'll talk about what i love about it because rain world is a wonderful game that i will never stop recommending to people, i think

i adore how "unfair" to usual game standards RW is. it makes it feel like there isn't really a point when you can call yourself a pro, when someone else can call you a noob after youve familiarized yourself with the controls. there isnt really an measurement of skill, sure you can look into some absolutely insane movement techs but the wonderful thing is that they are, at the end of it all, not important

i adore that the moment you accept the fact that this is just how this ecosystem works, you get to find such strange kind of joy out of it. i adore that the game is so loose about so many things including its lore because i can look at this "accept it when you die to become happier" thing and say that it could potentially mirror what the characters in the game (Ancients) should have figured out

i adore the religion in the game, the fact that it takes inspiration from Buddhism, i adore the karma symbols, what they mean, how they are written, how i can interpret them. the fact that i can look at this game and see something so very close to my own believes about life makes me so so happy

i adore the settings, the design, the vastness of the world both pictured and not, the impossibilities hiding in this world. the feeling of everything being so much it makes me want to cry everytime i take in how simply Giant the iterators are

everything is so big but small at the same time. the most breath-taking things become common and insignificant. the most insignificant things affect the most significant, holy ones, reducing objects and people of Unimaginable power and importance into nothing but desolate scrapheaps of nonsense. and yet these unnoteworthy scrapheaps circle back to being something precious but only to us. even though hes a wrackage, even though he is nothing more but trash now, we still love him because unimpressive things deserve to be loved too

i like to think that with some things in this game, something whispers "you're nothing. i love you. what happens to you affects me. you are nothing and i hope others will see the worth in you and love you too"

i adore the designs, i adore the glow of the overseer in the dark in the Monk campaign, i adore and fear the power of the rain, Moon's and Pebbles babbling and buzzing of their innards. i adore the glances we get of their cities, of the past, of the dead yet dear culture, whispers of history, the form of writing, even those stupid ads in Metropolis

i love hearing the opinions of both Moon and Pebbles. hearing from Suns makes me smile even though i want nothing else but to square up with them. thinking of No Significant Harassment and his easy humour even in such a place- his seemingly endless care, his struggles, anger, despair, mischievousness- the confusion and helplessness of something like them, a god brought to his knees- another glorious hard to comprehend impossibility

rain world is so wonderful and the more deeper you try to think about it and figure out what's happening where, why and how the more fun it is going to become

the best thing with RW you can honestly do is just dive in there and make your own opinions on all of these things. i hope u'll be able to take my wonder with you and use it to develop your own unique ideas of it!

n here's two fools vibin together

#Spot says stuff #rw #sorry i didnt get to answering ur ask yesterday! stuff got wild and i wanted to collect my thoughts and calm down before answering-#-so i could give you the most heartfelt answer i dare to muster on here #im glad you are sticking around and liking what ive been doing!! n i hope if u get RW and get to play it ull enjoy ur self #if ull want some tips n tricks u can shoot me a question again. ill be glad to answer n im sure the good fellows on here will be-#-willing to help out as well

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salad-006 · 10 months

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btw salad what's ur opinion on eddsworld legacy?

For the most part, i think legacy is Okay. It's not the Best, but its nice to see so many people come together to finish off the show. I can respect all the work these guys did, especially tomska.

If you came for my option on the season and thats it you can leave, because the rest of this is me going crazy mode

My only real problems lie with only 2-3 episodes, and it drives me Crazy because they're By Far the most popular, so they've caused the most problems. This one question ended up becoming a giantic essay SORRY im just passionate about ebbworld

Keep in mind these are Just my options, I'm not going to look down on you if you're the number one The End Fan. If you like it then Cool, you can continue to enjoy it. And i can continue to hate it over in my corner

I'm keeping this section on Fun Dead short, mostly because it's not really the worst offender

The "Obliviously stupid to progress the plot" trope is so bad here. They've seen zombies before how do they not recognize them now. I get them being oblivious to super obvious things is the joke ,but its just not funny

For a Zombie centric episode, there's barely any Fighting. I feel like big fight scenes are what people like most with these. But no we get a 30 second montage, one that's not even animated

They are such wusses in this episode id bully them if i was there i think

The End. Don't even get me started on The End. Legitimately i have never seen such a botched finale in my life. Fair warning this is about to get long and angry im sorry

Let me ask one question: how come in the Finale To Eddsworld Legacy, the season Dedicated to Edd Gould and his work, Edd Himself does not play a prominent role? I'm not even kidding, you could write Edd out completely and Nothing would change. Ive heard people say this was Tomska going out with a bang before leaving the show, but from what i know he also wanted eddsworld to be completely over at The End. If that's true he could have atleast let Edd shoot the harpoon or some shit, come on

This is such a disappointing finale overall. They don't do anything exciting. We just get to watch a little "do you remember this episode?" Montage, all the sudden everything gets crazy then oh! Episodes over goodbye forever.

An end fight might have been more exciting had it been set up properly. They gave us the bare minimum, which was having tords stupid little gang tag appear a few times then having two of his coworkers/soldiers appear a few times. That doesn't hint at a Tord being an evil meglomaniac who's got a giant fucking robot hidden under the house

FUTURE EDD CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AS WELL, AND HE WORKS GREAT BECAUSE HE SETS UP THE LORE IMMEDIATELY. Tords return gave us Nothing beyond "he is manipulating them!!" Instead we get the book dropped on us halfway through the LAST EPISODE OF THE SEASON without ever being given any sort of explanation. That's just it.

ALSO FUCK BRINGING TORD BACK AT ALL. the dude asked to be removed from the show and what did they do? Hinted at his return like 15 times then had him come back as this manipulative mastermind, whos got a bunch of science stuff and a russian accent. At the bare minimum you could have writtten him to atleast resemble something close to Tord. There's literally more evidence that points to him being a clone than there is him being the real Tord, and it WASN'T EVEN INTENTIONAL.

Took a character who had left with all his loose ends tied up, brought him back with completely new unexplained info, then ended the show with both the original and the new loose ends untied. I've read this was Tomska trying to write Tord out of the show for good, but he somehow managed to do the complete opposite by leaving him at a LITERAL cliffhanger. Now all the 12 year olds are @ ing eddsworld begging he comes back for a redemption episode.

I could scream forever about the end but ive already said too much SORRY. This is why im just rewritting it myself to make it good

One last thing: its somewhat heartbreaking to me how Legacy has totally overgrown the classic episodes. Of the top Ten most popular videos on the channel, Seven of them are legacy episodes, with Edds three episodes being at the very bottom of the list

I just don't like it. I dont like how legacy has become like the Face of what eddsworld is. Maybe it's just because Edds work has been one of the biggest inspirations in my life (if that wasn't obvious already) IDK it seems unfair

Tldr: i dont like what legacy has done to the series and the fandom, but it's okay for the most part. Fuck The End though

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dontfeeltoohot · 2 years

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Adrenaline + Spite Steddie 6.1K Warnings: Use of IV’s Summary: Sound check, to none of his surprise, is mind numbing and like a new brand of torture. His monitors are making his ears feel uncomfortable and achy, and every time Gareth hits a drum or cymbal, it rings out through his head like a gunshot. He’s pretty sure he’s five seconds away from throwing the man’s hi-hat off the stage when he then changes to his mic, the one only the band can hear in their mix. Notes: Rockstar AU! This is basically just a one off from the actual AU I’m writing that shows how he and Steve meet. This fic though is established relationship steddie. Band jargon is based on my own time in a band, though obviously mine wasn’t big like Corroded Coffin. They are loosely based off of P!ATD, but metal. In the actual fic I eventually post you’ll get a lot of background about Eddie and the band. I hope you guys enjoy!

As they head into the large, twenty thousand person arena, Eddie sniffles and rubs his nose on his shoulder, one hand holding his water bottle, the other carrying his guitar case. He’s been fighting the sniffles off since last night, but now his throat’s starting to hurt in a way that doesn’t bode well for the show that’s in ten hours. When he’d woken up, it had been barely anything, but in the hour the guitarist has been up and about, his throat’s turned raw, and swallowing is agonizing.

“Did you see how many people are already lined up? Crazy huh,” Jeff says to no one in particular.

They’re used to playing a venue this big, but this is Chicago , and the sheer amount of dedication the fans have around here is kind of surprising. Tim nods and Gareth laughs, taking a long sip of his coffee.

“And how many are here for the VIP thing?”

“Thirty,” Chelsea; their tour manager speaks up, her blonde hair coiled into a neat bun on the top of her head, similar to Eddie’s messy one.

“Okay, not too bad then,” Tim breathes a sigh of relief.

“Not like DC. Jesus Christ, like…why the fuck would Zack add to the amount?”

“Because, Gareth, he lives for chaos,” Eddie finally speaks up, thankful when no one seems to notice anything is amiss.

It’s true. Zack, their bodyguard, assistant manager, and close friend thrives in chaos, and while usually he goes easy on everyone and only picks a few people out of the line every show, four nights ago he’d picked an extra fifteen. If he picks that many again, Eddie might actually tackle him. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with almost fifty individuals. Jake, their photographer and videographer for the tour; another friend of theirs that they’ve been working with for nearly eight years, comes up in front of them, getting some of their conversation. Eddie makes a face for the camera before getting up close to the lens, sticking his tongue out.

“If you lick thi-”

“I’m not going to ruin your precious seven thousand dollar equipment, Jacob,” Eddie rolls his eyes fondly, then takes another long sip of coffee.

They get down to the green room, a big room with a large vanity on one wall, mirrors above it. There’s a few couches and seats, a large coffee table in the middle with their usual food requests like peanut m&m’s, popcorn, and packs of water. Everyone sets their bags down, and Eddie’s eyes move from one couch to another before picking the one in the middle, sprawling out.

“Nice man, leave room for the rest of us,” Tim rolls his eyes but there’s no heat, and Eddie just grins back at him, making no attempt to move. Gareth walks over and sits directly on top of the eldest member, half on his thighs and half on his stomach.

“Dude, get the hell off!”

“Nah, I like this seat.”

About to protest again, the twenty six year old opens his mouth but a cough bubbles up and he turns quickly, shielding his face with his arm so he doesn’t cough all over his band mates. As he twists back, congestion floods his head, like it’s been knocked loose by the jagged movements. His nose is no longer runny but completely stuffed up, serving only to make Eddie feel worse.

“Can you hand me a water bottle? Swallowed the wrong way,” he looks at Jeff, who nods and snags one for him, even going so far as to uncap it. The drummer currently on his lap moves so he’s able to sit up, and as the water slides down the man’s throat, he does his best to hide a wince.

Taking the cap from the bassist, Eddie leans forward a little, propping his arms against his knees, holding the water bottle to his forehead lazily while Chelsea runs through what their timeline today is. He knows it’s the same as every other show, but the woman always insists on going through it anyway. The two other bands touring with them are still on their way after hitting traffic, so the boys end up all at the vanity in a line, signing forty posters, passing them down like an assembly line.

Mindlessly signing, Eddie feels his nose twitch from congestion, so he rubs a knuckle against it. The feeling only intensifies into a tickle that winds its way through his sinuses and into his nose, making him finally pause mid signature, pulling the neck of his black tee-shirt up and over his face.

“hih’ATSCHuhEW! ihKKch’uhew!”

“Bless you,” Gareth throws his way, and Eddie nods before-

“ihGKkheshuhEW! Christ,” he sniffles, though with his nose completely blocked it doesn’t do much help at all.

“Man, you good?”

“Yeah, Jesus, sorry,” Eddie doesn’t see any tissues around so he gets up and heads to the bathroom that’s connected at the end of the green room, grabbing some toilet paper to blow his nose into. It doesn’t help much, but the need to sneeze retreats. When he gets back to his seat, he sees he’s fucked up his signature entirely. Taking his sharpie, he writes ‘oops! sorry!’ and then puts an arrow pointing to the signature. Hopefully that makes up for it.

As the other two bands arrive and start sound check, the band members, Jake and Zach play around the arena. For once, Eddie isn’t on his skateboard whizzing around or throwing a football like usual. Instead, he’s lying on the concrete ground near the sound guy, feeling the kick drum being played reverberating through his skull.

A chill runs up his spine, causing him to sit up and rub his face. Arena’s are always cold, especially to him since he’s already cold natured, but it’s almost different, this chill. It’s deeper somehow, like it’s clinging to his insides, burrowing into him with no intention of letting up.

Sniffling into his wrist, Eddie coughs quietly and sits up. He feels exhausted and wants to lay down on something better than cold concrete. Standing, he heads over to Chelsea, giving her a smile.

“Hey, I’m going to the green room for a few minutes,” the twenty six year old informs, thankful when he doesn’t sound too terrible.

Chelsea nods, typing away on her phone. “Sounds good, I’m ordering some lunch for everyone. It’ll be here in a bit,” she responds, not bothering to look up.

Walking back down the hallway and stairs, the curly haired man makes it to the green room and collapses back onto the couch he’d occupied previously. He wishes Steve was laying with him instead of at home, probably watching tv with Robin since Not Just Coffee is closed Tuesdays. Grabbing his phone, he pulls up their text thread and sighs.

Miss you.

It’s innocuous enough that his boyfriend won’t think much of it, but will probably reply. Shutting his eyes, Eddie shifts so he’s on his back, stomach and hands resting on his stomach as he waits. As he relaxes, everything starts weighing down on him- just how sore this throat is, how achy he feels, how his sinuses feel stuffed with congestion and his nose is running.

A few minutes pass before his phone vibrates against his skin. Slowly bringing the screen close, he smiles.

Miss you too. Robin says hi.

Hey Birdie. What’re you guys up to? Adventuring and causing havoc?

Very funny. No, we’re just having a slow day. Made pancakes, now we’re waiting for Nance to come over. It’s raining here so we’re just watching movies all day.

Jesus I wish I was there, could cuddle up with you and take a nap.

Tired? You guys had a long drive last night right?

Yeah. Long drive, slept like shit.

I’m sorry babe. Hopefully you can rest a little before run through.

Currently alone in the green room laying on the couch.

Alone huh? 😏

As much as I would love to indulge in getting each other off, I wouldn’t be surprised if Zack came down. He’s too good at knowing when we are. Plus lunch will be here soon.

Damn. Not that I could really do it either right now.

Can’t wait to see you again. It feels like it’s been years.

Four days you goof.

Still. Feels like 4 years.

I miss you too Eds. So much. You go try and relax some before lunch. I’ll talk to you later. ❤️

Love you Stevie. Have fun watching movies. Tell Nancy I say hi.

Love you too. I will.

The second Eddie finishes reading the last text, he deflates. He shuts his eyes again and ends up drifting as he thinks about his friends and boyfriend, about Eggnog their cat and how he can’t wait to be home.

“Food’s here!”

Eddie jerks awake, sitting up as everyone clambers through the green room door. Quickly, he rubs his eyes and brushes a few stray curls from his face. He feels no better, but no worse, so that’s a win in his book. Chelsea, Jeff and Gareth are carrying bags of food in their arms. He tries to sniff the air to see what they’ve brought but when he does he’s met with a stuffed up nose and he holds a cough in.

“What’s for lunch?”

“Chinese. She ordered some of everything,” Tim tells him as said bags are placed on the table.

Everyone gets what they want, but Eddie’s not concerned with the race for it all. He knows there will be a little container of lo mein somewhere in a bag, his usual. As expected, the white box is handed to him and he’s grateful this is his favorite thing and not spicy orange chicken.

Zack and Jake crack open fortune cookies as Eddie stabs at a piece of carrot to go along with some noodles, knowing he needs to eat even if he doesn’t want to. Feeling like one big ache, the guitarist eats silently.

“Dude are you good? You’ve been weirdly quiet today. And you’re like…not being you.”

Gareth looks at him with concern, and Chelsea and Zack seem to realize this too, turning toward him.

“I’m good. Just tired,” he lies. “Trying to save all my energy for tonight.”

When they all look skeptical, he sighs and throws his head back dramatically, ignoring the swimming sensation that overtakes his brain.

“Don’t you worry you’re pretty, mother hen heads, I, Eddie Munson, am ready for a great night. Someone just happened to keep me up last night from snoring,” Eddie shoots Jeff a look, who looks guilty.

“Sorry dude.”

“No harm done, as long as you guys don’t continue to talk shit about me,” he gives a grin.

That seems to placate everyone, and they go back to eating lunch. Eddie relaxes a little, not wanting to have to deal with everyone being annoyed at him. By the time they’re all finished, he feels just slightly better, his head isn’t hurting as badly and the chill seems to have receded somewhat. He can do this.

Sound check, to none of his surprise, is mind numbing and like a new brand of torture. His monitors are making his ears feel uncomfortable and achy, and every time Gareth hits a drum or cymbal, it rings out through his head like a gunshot. He’s pretty sure he’s five seconds away from throwing the man’s hi-hat off the stage when he then changes to his mic, the one only the band can hear in their mix.

After going through Jeff’s guitar and vocals, and then Tim’s bass, they reach Eddie, who’s flopped on his back yet again, making it harder for their sound guy Brian to see when he needs his mix adjusted. Oh well. Standing, Eddie heads up to his mic that’s placed in its stand, and starts reciting his usual sound check spiel about how they need to stay focused tonight, how they need to put on the best performance of their lives.

He keeps his mouth directly against the mesh of the mic, lips dragging over it. He’s probably germing it up like crazy, but it’s only for him through the whole tour, and he can wipe it down later. After talking, he knows the next step is singing a few bars, so he takes a breath and hopes to whatever deity is out there that his voice doesn’t crack.

Miraculously, it doesn’t. That is, it doesn’t until they’re halfway through running their first song with the full track and lights, and his voice catches as he goes to hit a higher note. Eddie winces, Tim and Jeff laugh, and Gareth’s voice rings through their in-ears.

“Damn, that could have been on a highlight reel. Was Jake recording?”

Eddie shoots the finger towards the drummer, continuing to sing, though he sings ‘fuck off Gareth’ instead of the actual lyrics.

They go through only three of their 17 song set. It’s the lead guitarist and vocalist who calls it, his throat screaming in protest. He’s starting to worry about how exactly he’s going to get through tonight’s set. He’s pushed through a show with a stomach virus, even performed last year with a high fever, but he’s never had to deal with a sore throat this intense before.

“Okay, I think we’re good. We just played everything yesterday. If you guys have stuff you need to work through, go ahead, but if you don’t need me, I need to pee,” Eddie addresses his band mates, who all look at him skeptically as he sets his guitar down.

“You’re good man, go before you pee your parents,” Tim assures, and Eddie slides off the stage to find the nearest restroom.

A couple of minutes later, after peeing, blowing his nose a few times and washing his hands, the musician makes his way back out, hands still damp due to no paper towels. He refuses to use the hand dryers that blow air out thanks to having read some article online about how they harbor bacteria. Chelsea is right outside the door, waiting for him, making him jump.

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

The woman smirks and shakes her head before going back to looking serious.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been…unusually unenergetic today. And if you’re too sick to perform, I need to know now, instead of an hour before the sh-“

“I’m fine, Chelsea. Do I feel a little under the weather? Yeah, I guess. But definitely not bad enough to cancel,” he shakes his head, feeling suddenly prickly and ready to fight.

“Because the flush on your cheeks and the sound of your voice is very convincing,” she deadpans, and Eddie tenses.

“I know what I’m doing! I know my limits. I know what I can and can’t do. Don’t try and tell me you know how I feel.”

Arguing isn’t usually something he does with people on tour, but if he does, 9 times out of 10 it’s with Chelsea or Gareth. She looks at him and he stares back, as if to challenge her. Finally, she breaks eye contact.

“If you pass out on stage, don’t blame me,” she says tersely, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, alright. Tonight’s going to be the best show yet, just wait and see.”

An hour later, the vip stuff starts. 36 people are lined up outside the green room, hanging out in the expansive hallway. A few at a time, people all over the age range spectrum come in, meeting and talking to the band for a couple of minutes. Jake gets a photo for everyone, and then they move to the next people. Eddie keeps his energy up, though not as high as he usually would. A few girls in their young twenties seem to notice, one asking if he’s alright.

“I’m good sweetheart, don’t worry. Jeff just kept me up all night snoring,” he jokes playfully, tossing a look back to the guitarist, who gives him the finger.

By the end of the meet and greets, Eddie feels significantly worse. There’s only thirty minutes till the concert, which means an hour and thirty minutes until Corroded Coffin goes on. Sitting down, he leans his elbows and forearms against his thighs, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. Hair falls in front of him. Fuck.

A hand on his shoulder has him looking up. Zack’s standing there with Chelsea, everyone else looking from behind the two.

“You’re sure you’re alright to do this tonight?”

Eddie nods, giving what he hopes is a convincing smile. “Yep, I’ll be good to go. Preserving my energy,” he explains, waving a hand in the air lazily.

Zack doesn’t look fully convinced, and he must not be, because a moment later, the back of his hand connects with the musician's forehead. The bearded man looks back at their manager, sharing a look.

“Definitely need to find some Tylenol, maybe a thermometer too.”

“I’ll go find someone on the event medical staff,” Chelsea scurries off, leaving all the boys alone.

“Dude, don’t push yourself,” Tim says worriedly. “Canceling one show won’t-“

“I’ve performed through far worse than a cold, dude,” Eddie says, not bothering to open his eyes as he shifts so he can lay down, stretching his legs out.

Zack, Tim, Jeff and Gareth all start horsing around, telling jokes to Jake’s camera. Jake moves closer to Eddie, talking.

“Sick as hell and still going strong! What a trooper he is.”

For his part, Eddie just cracks an eye open and sticks his tongue out. “Nothin’s gonna keep me from performing, baby!”

A few minutes tick by and then Chelsea is walking back in with two women dressed in navy shirts and bdu’s. Their shirts have little ‘Fulton County EMS’ emblems on the upper right corner, the man notices as one crouches in front of him. She’s got long dark hair pulled into a ponytail, and he thinks she’s maybe from some eastern country. She’s pretty, and he gives her a tired smile.

“Hey, Eddie, right? Hear you’re not feeling so great,” she says sympathetically. “I’m Violet, that’s my partner Julie,” she gestures to the other woman who’s rummaging around a red bag.

“Nice to meet you,” he rasps, clearing his throat and wincing. “Sorry to be such a pain in the ass.”

“It’s what I’m here for, don’t worry. Trust me, this is more exciting than dealing with a split lip or concussion,” she assures, slipping a stethoscope off that’s hanging around her neck.

He stays cooperative as she listens to his lungs and takes his blood pressure and heart rate. Julie slips a thermometer under his tongue and holds it there. When it beeps, she slips it back in its pouch.

“101.5.”

A few of the guys in the room make sympathetic noises.

“And you wanna perform?” Violet asks, grabbing her own light from her pocket. “Open wide for a sec.”

“Just because I have a silly fever doesn’t mean I can’t perform,” Eddie shrugs before complying.

“Damn, those are some of the worst looking swollen tonsils I’ve seen. No wonder you sound awful.” She pats his shoulder and grabs a bottle of water. “Alright, I’m gonna give you a strong dose of ibuprofen, and we’re gonna get a banana bag; electrolytes basically, hooked up to you. That should be able to get you through the show. But I’d suggest finding a doctor to check you over fully tomorrow. Not sure if you should really continue going for the next couple of days,” Violet explains.

“Thank you, we’re definitely going to be seeing someone tomorrow,” Chelsea nods.

Julie’s been unraveling some tubing and getting things hooked up, and soon Violet’s swabbing the crook of his left arm.

“Alright, just a quick pinch okay?”

The IV is started and Eddie shivers, taking the ibuprofen as the electrolytes start getting pushed into his body. There’s only 45 minutes before they start, 35 until they need to head up. Eddie hopes this shit will work, because it’s starting to hit him now, just how sick he really feels.

He’s been laying there for 24 minutes when his phone buzzes. Grabbing it, he sees Steve’s name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Steve’s voice is all worry, and he’s confused as to how he would even know.

“What?”

“Jeff posted a photo of you with the caption ‘fever of one-oh-one and still determined to rock tonight’s show’. You sound miserable, baby.”

“I’ll be ok, got an IV giving me the good stuff,” Eddie says softly. When he sees Tim starting to get up, and the other two following, Eddie sniffles and sits up. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you after. Love you.”

“Be safe. Love you too.”

Violet comes over and takes his IV out, wrapping his arm with a bright red bandage, laughing when Eddie grins.

“Matches my guitar.”

“I tried to, at least,” she grins back.

“Thank you, seriously.”

His voice sounds no better, but he can tell the fluids have helped a bit, no longer feeling like death warmed over, more like death lukewarm-ed over. Coughing into his arm, the curly haired man stands and shivers, but takes his sweatshirt off, revealing a plain black tee. He grabs his signature denim vest from his bag and slips it on, realizing he probably should have put some kind of makeup on to at least hide the dark circles under his eyes. Too late now.

Downing half a bottle of water as they walk up the stairs and down the hallway to the back of the stage, the others turn to him.

“You got this man!” Jeff squeezes his shoulder. Tim nods in agreement.

“If anyone can do this while sick, it’s Eddie fuckin’ Munson.”

“…if you need a second at any point, just…please take it?” Gareth looks at his best friend. Eddie nods.

They head out on stage where the curtain is drawn. Picking up his guitar, the twenty six year old lets out a breath, coughs a few times, then tries to relax. This is what he was born to do. A cold isn’t going to get in the way of it. He can hear the crowd on the other side of the stage for a moment before slipping his in-ears in, then it’s muffled considerably.

“5…4…3…2…1…”

They all start playing as the curtain opens, and Eddie lets himself get lost in the adrenaline high, energy suddenly thrumming throughout his body.

They have seven songs left when Eddie, who’s been doing great all things considered with the past ten, starts flagging. He’s as energetic as always, no different than any of the other concerts. Anyone who doesn’t know he’s sick shouldn’t have a clue that he’s still sporting a fever of 101. Corroded Coffin starts up on another song and the lead vocalist sings out, turning once to cough in the middle of the verse. While Jeff plays a solo, he uncaps a bottle of water and takes a few gulps, trying to soothe the pain in his throat that’s now back with revenge.

He goes back to singing seven seconds later, fingers moving effortlessly across the guitar neck. As they fade into the next song, Eddie wonders if it’s the lights beating down on him that’s making him feel a little too hot. Swallowing, he comes in on the verse a half second late, but manages to pick back up and correct himself. This song turns out to be the one that alerts all the fans of just how sick Eddie actually is.

It’s long, he and Jeff both have guitar solos, and it also happens to be the one that’s maybe the heaviest vocally there is, with louder and harsher demand on his vocal chords. The adrenaline high is crashing rapidly. Halfway through the song he pulls back from the mic, coughing raggedly into his arm, wincing at how it hurts his throat. Jeff manages to step up and continue leading when Eddie; red cheeked and suddenly wan looking, takes a shaky sip of his water.

When it doesn’t help anything, he continues to let Jeff take it, walking to the back of the stage to cough more, gagging from the force of it.

“Dude, you okay?” Gareth’s voice comes through their monitors, and Eddie waves him off, nodding as he straightens back up.

As soon as he turns to make his way back, he coughs again, wincing as it tears at his throat and makes his ears ache. His right temple is throbbing and the musician feels a wave of weakness wash over him, like his whole body gets its bones replaced with jelly, like his muscles are now spaghetti noodles. Holy shit this isn’t good.

“Eddie, man, what’s going on,” Gareth tries again. He looks over past the stairs off to the side of the stage at Zack and Chelsea, who start moving to the sound booth to get to the only way to communicate with them, the mic that their engineer has.

Jeff is finishing the song now, and as the band lapses into silence to change the tuning of their instruments, they look at each other. Eddie looks at Gareth and shakes his head, feeling fuzzy. He knows this isn’t good. The crowd is starting to get a little rambunctious, and Eddie feels like if he tries to sing one more note he might actually cry or throw up. Or both.

“Eddie, what’s going on? Gareth is he ok?” Chelsea’s voice is loud in the four band mates' ears. Eddie pops one of his IEM’s out, then meets Gareth’s eyes.

“I feel really fucking shitty Gareth…I need to sit or something…fuck…” he says close to the man’s ear. His voice sounds like he’s swallowed glass, like it’s a mouthwash he’s gargled with, and he sounds exhausted and weak. The drummer winces and goes to hold his own mic close.

“We’re gonna have to stop. He can’t…”

No one really knows what to do exactly. They’ve never had to stop a show before. Finally, even through his fever-fogged brain, Eddie goes back up to his mic and takes it off its stand, guitar still hanging from his shoulder.

“Hey guys.”

The arena goes silent, all 19,000 people suddenly hushing. It’s almost eerie.

“Uh, some of you might know if you follow Jeff on Instagram but…” Eddie runs a hand through his hair. “I’m really fucking sick. I thought I could get through the show tonight, got an IV and everything beforehand,” he trails off to cough away from the mic.

“I don’t think I can finish, my whole body is basically screaming at me if I don’t lay down in the next ten minutes it’s gonna make me lay down whether I want to or not. I’m so sorry, this isn’t fair to any of you guys, and it sucks major ass. I’ll uh, see if we can do something for you guys, so don’t lose your tickets,” he talks with as much energy as he can muster, but it’s falling flat even to his own ears.

“Thank you guys for being understanding, and for coming. It means the world to get to see everyone enjoying our songs. I hope you guys don’t hate us too much for cutting it short. Thanks again, and have a good night.”

Eddie sets his mic back into its holder, then takes his guitar off. Gareth, Jeff and Tim are all watching him with worried eyes, scrambling to get out their equipment down too, and follow their friend.

“Fuck,” Eddie mumbles, stopping just to get his bearings.

He leans back against the cool brick wall, shivering, simultaneously too hot and too cold. He slides down into a sitting position, knees against his chest. A second later his band mates, Zack, Chelsea, Jake, and both Violet and Julie are around him. Zack’s on the phone, Jake’s camera is loosely around his neck, and his eyes are wide. Chelsea looks stunned, and so do the other three band members.

“Hey, Eddie, how’re you feeling?” Violet asks.

“Like fucking garbage.” It comes out weak and shaky, the opposite of what he’s trying for, wishing it had come out playful and dramatic.

A thermometer is once again slipped into his mouth, and he stays silent. A beep, and it’s pulled out.

“102.6. Let’s get him moved back to the green room, that way he can actually lay down. Eddie, hun, do you think you can walk?”

“Yeah,” Eddie stands, feeling entirely too shaky. He stubbornly walks the whole way, not embarrassing himself more than he already has by needing help. He gets to the couch in the green room just as he feels himself woozy.

He hears Jeff and Tim talking about his fever, wondering how he performed at all. Gareth’s on the phone with someone.

“Alright, so…do we just let him try to sleep this off? Or do we get him to an ER? Or?” Chelsea bites at her lip.

“With the fact he’s had fluids and a fever reducer in the past two hours and is still this sick, I’d probably suggest transporting to the ER, just so they can figure out what’s going on. I know you guys travel a lot too, so it’ll probably speed the whole process up. We can get him hooked back up to fluids, get him an ice pack or two, see if we can get that fever down. Eddie? How’s your chest? You breathing alright?”

The guitarist looks up at Violet with fever bright eyes and nods. “S’good. Throat hurts, body hurts, head hurts,” the man mumbles, shivering.

“Eds, she thinks it’s best to go ahead and take you to the ER, that’ll help get you feeling better. Is that alright?”

“S’fine…can I have my phone?”

Gareth hands it to him and he fumbles to get it in his pocket.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you on the stretcher okay? It’s just a few steps away, you think you can make it there? These guys can help pick you up if you wa-“

“They’ll drop me, I got it,” Eddie attempts to joke, knowing they wouldn’t actually, not in this serious of a situation.

“Hey man! I wouldn’t drop you!” Gareth says indignantly, now off of his cell phone. He moves close to the gurney as Eddie gets on, giving him a smile. “We’ll try and see you in a bit. We’re gonna go head down to see some of the fans as a consolation prize,” he laughs, and Tim squeezes his shoulder. Jeff jokingly presses a kiss to his head.

“Feel better man.”

“Thanks. Have fun getting trampled and felt up.”

From there it’s a blur. Eddie starts dozing restlessly, catching tiny things like him getting a new IV, being asked about his last oral intake (which he barely mumbles out), and getting taken into the freezing night air. He holds the scratchy, thin blanket tighter, then opens his eyes for a moment. Hundreds of fans are looking over, most with their phones out.

Weak and shaky, he makes the ‘rock and roll’ hand sign, keeping his pinky and pointer finger up, then raises it in the air, arm shaking the whole time. Violet snorts beside him as they maneuver and lock the stretcher into place before electronically raising the wheels up, sliding it into the truck.

“Alright mister rock and roll, we’re gonna out this IV into your hand, have a preference which one?” Violet smiles, and Eddie just stares confusedly.

The next time he’s coherent and lucid enough to truly process what’s going on, he’s got an ice pack on his forehead and on both sides of his neck and under his armpits. He’s no longer in the back of an ambulance, instead he’s in a room with sterile white walls that smells of antiseptic and plastic.

Feeling like he’s been hit by a bud, Eddie’s about to fall asleep again when a noise to his left has him forcing his eyes back open. There, sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair is Steve, scrolling on his phone. Blinking, the musician coughs a little, which makes his boyfriend look up.

“Eds.”

The nickname comes out shaky, and Eddie instantly reacts, moving his arm out, but it catches on something and he hisses. Looking down, he now notices that there’s an IV line coming out from the top of his hand, blue veins standing out against his paler than normal skin. Oh. Right.

“Stevie…” he coughs, just barely able to turn away. A shiver runs through his body and he lets his eyes shut again. A hand scoots under his own, making him smile a little.

“I was eating dinner with Robin and suddenly my phone starts blowing up with Twitter and Instagram notifications of people asking if you’re okay,” Steve says softly. “I didn’t even know you had to stop the show, I just suddenly saw all these photos of my dumb boyfriend getting wheeled on a stretcher into an ambulance.”

“M’sorry…”

“It’s not your fault…mostly. I mean. It is. But…right now I’m just glad you’re relatively ok,” the twenty four year old shifts his chair close enough he can lean against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Where’s everyone?”

“Chelsea and Zack are out grabbing some food. The guys are staying in a hotel for the night, everyone else is going ahead and heading to Indianapolis to hang for a few days till you’re feeling well enough. How are you feeling?”

“Worse than I think I’ve ever felt in my life,” he admits, fiddling with the IV tube.

“Well you have strep, and the beginnings of an ear infection. Doc said this is one of the worst cases of strep he’s seen that hasn’t progressed to scarlet fever,” Steve explains, running a hand through his hair. Eddie melts into the touch.

“Thought scarlet fever was from like, the 1800’s.”

“Still around. It’s when strep progresses.”

“Ugh this sucks. I had to cancel in the middle of the show,” Eddie rubs his face with his free hand. He starts coughing, not stopping until Steve holds a straw to his lips and he sips at water. It hurts like a bitch.

“Yeah, a bunch of people dm’d me videos. You sounded so fucking sick Eddie, how the hell did you even do that much of the concert?”

“Adrenaline and spite.”

Snorting, Steve shakes his head and kisses his temple. “Try and rest ok? They’re pumping you full of fluids and antibiotics. Think they also said something about giving you a dose of steroids for your poor throat if you want it. Your tonsils are apparently very impressive. Three nurses came in to see,” he laughs.

“Damn right they are,” Eddie gives a sleepy grin, sniffling. “Love you Stevie…thanks for driving up.”

“Eh, it was more for me than you,” the blue eyed man teases before nodding. “Even if I was 10 hours away I would have come. Just might have taken a little longer. Sleep now.”

When Eddie wakes up again, it’s dark. Steve is asleep in the plastic chair, and the musician feels bleary and disoriented. Blinking, he sees his phone and tries to grab it but it clatters to the ground, effectively waking his boyfriend with a jolt.

“Wha?”

“Sorry, sorry…tried to grab my phone,” Eddie rasps. He notices his throat isn’t making him want to cry anymore. It’s still ridiculously painful, but nothing compared to twelve hours ago.

“Here…” Steve grabs the black iPhone and hands it to him.

Eddie shifts until he’s on the edge of the hospital bed, then looks at Steve with big eyes. “Join me?”

Moments later, they’re both snuggled against each other. The musician unlocks his phone, eyes widening at the sheer amount of notifications he has. There’s a bunch of texts from people on the crew, his band mates, as well as Wayne, a few friends, and even a couple of other musicians. Twitter and Instagram he’s afraid to even look at. Finally, after replying to the texts, he heads to Twitter, wincing at all the photos he sees of him doing a metal hand sign on the stretcher. He doesn’t even remember doing it.

Clicking the button to compose a new tweet, he leans his head against Steve’s shoulder.

To everyone at Corroded Coffin’s Chicago show- thanks for coming out and putting up with my sick as hell ass. Turns out strep throat, swollen tonsils and a fever don’t mix well with singing. If I’m honest, I barely remember the show at all. Anyone who got the meet and greet and hugged me, you should probably bathe in bleach. If you do get sick, DM me a photo of your ticket and your meds, and I’ll send you something special. Stay Metal my friends.

Extras:

#my fic #em #sh #st #cc #au #rockstarau #did i use a hard to see photo of stevie nicks for eddie? maybe

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mostlymaudlin · 2 years

Text

self-recs 💫

prompt was: post your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. thank you @urban-sith @nightimedreamersworld @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for tagging me! i feel like im late so idk who has done this already but i tag @starwarned @seducing-a-vampire @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @prettylightsbigcity @sillyunicorn

i'm only gonna do snowbaz, and also these are just in order of how recent they are bc i dont know how to rank them lol

1. Something's Gotta Give Now (T), 7k

this is my most recent snowbaz fic and i really really liked writing it. it's an au, and i don't really want to give too much away because part of what i like about this fic is the way the backstory unravels. but the gist is: baz plays a sexy, angsty vampire on a popular tv show, and simon is very bitter and very funny about it.

i did this after not writing snowbaz for a while, so i feel like i was able to return to the characters with fresh eyes and some broken bad habits. the third person is nice too -- i definitely write more cleanly in third. it's definitely not crack (which was my original intention lmfao, it's technically my crackfest entry), but im not really mad about it. i gave up on my ability to not to take it seriously about 500 words in. also, there's a second chapter that it just unhinged shit lmfao.

2. The Places We Build (T), 4k

this fic plays with the idea of: what if simon and baz decided in their first year at watford that they didn't want to hate each other? what if everything was the same, except nothing was the same, because they were friends? i like it because i feel like it has a strong heartbeat. i love to see how much of a world i can create in the least amount of words, and there's a looooot of history packed into these 4k words. very tender. very cuddly :)

3. love means slowly using losing your mind (E), 8k

this one was so fun to write. another au -- baz is a wedding planner, simon is penny/sheps best man (yes, both of them). it's loosely based on THAT scene from the movie 27 Dresses (iykyk) but it stands on its own. i like how i leaned into the setting here -- it feels like a very accessible world to me, like you could close your eyes and see the pub. and also i really just like to put my blorbos in a situation where they get drunk and have fun hahaha. as always, shit gets kind of real and snowbaz are their usual intense selves. also there's awkward car sex, which was hilarious to write.

4. Jump Up, Chosen One! (T), 8k

dude. what the FUCK was i on here..... this is perhaps the most plot-driven thing i've ever written, while also being one of the WEIRDEST things ive ever written. the premise is: simon goes off, trapping him, niall, dev, and baz in a Super Mario Bros game. and like. it's silly, yeah. but when i read back through im always like -- oh, ok, there's a lot of heart in this! good job rory! more reasons to love: lots of fun niall & dev screen time, simon solving problems thru the power of Being Determined, a tender moment that i interrupt several times by reminding you that simon and baz do indeed look like mario characters, penny solving problems thru the power of Being Clever, and a surprise tonal shift at the end lmfao. idk man. there's a lot going on here and i think it's p sweet.

5. In black ink my love may still shine bright (M), 5k

even though i hate that i used a fuckin long ass shakespeare quote as a title (lmao. like it fits and i love that sonnet but still. tacky !), this fic is great. @starwarned and i talk a lot about the power of The Slutty M-Rated Fic, and this is my best work in that regard. post-awtwb, date night -- they get ice cream and go to a bar and... shenanigans ensue. it's sweet and happy and nothing bad happens. NICE. the e-rated sequel is the first smut i ever wrote. i was so nervous about it. look at me now.... our resident blood slut LMAO.

honorable mentions, because im a dirty cheater. these probably belong in top 5 but ive been talking about them already recently so i didnt want to be repetitive.

closer to the sun (E), 6k: simpard taken seriously. investigations and road trips and finding purpose and... dragon-fucking.

Nothing Equals The Splendor (T), 52k: my longest fic! gbbo au. a labor of love.

#my writing #this was a lot of work wtf but i forgot about a few of these so it was nice to peruse

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divinity-is-dead · 2 years

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(i need help figuring out some otherkin identity things, if thats alright. Sorry its a bit long, this has been on my mind for a while. Im questioning if im some kind of fallen angel kin mixed with demon kin, and i thought you could help. Again sorry its so long and tw for su1c1dal 1deat1on )

So, ive identified as demonkin for a while now. I feel (or felt) really comfortable in that label bc ive always felt nonhuman, monstrous and really felt connected to demons in general. Ive always felt weirdly ancient as well. I feel that my body is young but the soul that inhabits it has been existing for longer than it could ever think of counting. Deep in my mind though ive been thinking maybe im more fallen angel or something like that? Ive always been so immensely drawn to clouds and the sky ever since i could remember really, i feel saddened and sick and heavy in my heart and chest (the best i can describe it) whenever i look at them, but im so entranced and enthralled by their beauty and significance that i cant look away. Like im yearning for a place that i know i hated, but it was so soft and warm up there no matter how much it hurt. One of my hobbies is taking pictures of the sky. I have hundreds of these photos. I do not miss being controlled or serving something though. I hate that. I never want to serve any divinity other than myself. I am not religious and despise the idea of being ruled in such a way. I never want to be ruled like i feel i once was ever again, but i so so deeply miss the place i used to be. Thus, why i thought i was demon kin. I still heavily associate myself with demonic things and the like, but i feel that im slightly different. For whatever reason i feel as though i didnt start that way. I feel like i used to live among the heavens, but one day i could feel the fire staining my pearly white wings, crawling along them and charring them to a deep black, leaving nothing of the cloud-like white they once where, as i reach for the clouds with my numb limbs that cant hold onto what im loosing. No choice but to fall. Sometimes i can still sense and feel the immense betrayal and heartache i felt that time deep within me somewhere. Does that count as a memory? I dont explicitly remember it per se, its more like this incredibly strong feeling and grudge that i could never hope to get rid of. Possibly tmi, but ive always adored the feeling of falling. The only way i can describe it is nostalgic. Ive thought that if i where to kms, id do it falling backwards, staring up at the clouds again. The sight of the clouds getting further and further from my desperate grasp feels so familiar but i can never pin point a time where it happened.

Ever since my supposed banishing from the heavens i feel ive been trapped in the body of something that could never hope to match what i once was. I feel disgraced, humiliated, and betrayed, spat upon like i meant nothing. There was never a point in time or a traumatic event that i know of in my human life that lead to these feelings. I cant help but feel like a burned angel, a demon who once had the heavenly glow of the sky, forced to wander in a powerless shell on this earth. I can only reminisce on that glory, disheartened and unforgiving of the divinity that did that to me. I feel lost. I want to return to the comfort and beauty of the heavens but of my own accord and with nothing to control me.

I highly certain that im not a full angel. But im not a complete demon either.

Again, sorry its a lot. What do you think? Do i seem to be a fallen angel as well? Thank you for your help btw. It means a lot to me /gen

Hello!! Thank you very much for the ask, I'm always happy to help

Before I start, keep in mind that multiple kin types are possible!! You could be both a fallen angel AND a demon

I'm gonna go about this similarly to how Raz did a while back

After a while there will be a set of asterisks and a warning. Skip to the second set of three asterisks when you see it to skip the mention of su1c1de!

"-Ive always felt weirdly ancient as well. I feel that my body is young but the soul that inhabits it has been existing for longer than it could ever think of counting."

This is something common with many kintypes! Demonic and angelic ones are definitely more closely related to this feeling. I myself have this exact feeling very very often! -

"-Ive always been so immensely drawn to clouds and the sky ever since i could remember really, i feel saddened and sick and heavy in my heart and chest (the best i can describe it) whenever i look at them, but im so entranced and enthralled by their beauty and significance that i cant look away."

Clouds have always reminded me of Heaven. Storm clouds are my favorite for some reason? They look so heavy! I'm pretty sure those were the best to fly through, cus even if they got my wings all wet, it felt really nice and cool. This could very well be a sign that you're an angel! -

"-Like im yearning for a place that i know i hated, but it was so soft and warm up there no matter how much it hurt."

Fallen angel mentality right here. Longing for Heaven, even after all that happened, is something I do quite often. I don't miss the other angels, but I do miss Heaven itself. It was the first home I ever knew. -

"-I do not miss being controlled or serving something though. I hate that. I never want to serve any divinity other than myself. I am not religious and despise the idea of being ruled in such a way. I never want to be ruled like i feel i once was ever again, but i so so deeply miss the place i used to be."

I've mentioned this in a past post, but God was for angels the same thing that God was for humans. It was a mysterious figure with no real face, no real body. It was a concept. At least, that's how I remember it. How is this relevant? Well, its the reason that I myself am not religious either! -

"-I feel like i used to live among the heavens, but one day i could feel the fire staining my pearly white wings, crawling along them and charring them to a deep black, leaving nothing of the cloud-like white they once where, as i reach for the clouds with my numb limbs that cant hold onto what im loosing. No choice but to fall."

I left Heaven. Not necessarily of my own accord, but I did take the last step out of those gates. I couldn't stop my descent. I was afraid and regretted it nearly instantly. I wanted to fly back up and beg for them to forgive me. But my wing was burning, and I couldn't fly. What you're describing is very very much a fallen angel experience. -

"-Sometimes i can still sense and feel the immense betrayal and heartache i felt that time deep within me somewhere. Does that count as a memory? I dont explicitly remember it per se, its more like this incredibly strong feeling and grudge that i could never hope to get rid of."

Sometimes it's hard to tell if something is the memory itself or just the feelings you felt during it. I think that what you described counts as a memory! -

TW SU1C1D4L IDEATION!

SKIP TO THE *** TO CONTINUE

"-Possibly tmi, but ive always adored the feeling of falling. The only way i can describe it is nostalgic. Ive thought that if i where to kms, id do it falling backwards, staring up at the clouds again. The sight of the clouds getting further and further from my desperate grasp feels so familiar but i can never pin point a time where it happened."

You likely can't pinpoint a time when it happened because it didn't happen in this lifetime! I understand what you mean. The clouds are peaceful. -

***

"-Ever since my supposed banishing from the heavens i feel ive been trapped in the body of something that could never hope to match what i once was. I feel disgraced, humiliated, and betrayed, spat upon like i meant nothing. There was never a point in time or a traumatic event that i know of in my human life that lead to these feelings."

These particular feelings are very reminiscent of demonic or angelic origins! Especially considering the lack of events in your human life. -

"-I cant help but feel like a burned angel, a demon who once had the heavenly glow of the sky, forced to wander in a powerless shell on this earth. I can only reminisce on that glory, disheartened and unforgiving of the divinity that did that to me. I feel lost. I want to return to the comfort and beauty of the heavens but of my own accord and with nothing to control me."

Once again, these feelings are signs to me that you very well could be a fallen angel as well as a demon! -

In conclusion;

Fledgling, I think that you are a demon. I also think that you're a fallen angel. Whether you falling turned you into a demon, or rather another lifetime had you as an angel, that is up to you to discover! All the signs point to both demonic and angelic from my point of view.

(P.S. It's no problem! I enjoy helping little fledglings find their origins, it brings me joy. I hope you feel okay and I hope that this helped. Thank you for reaching out to me!)

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