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#pre-king
das-a-kirby-blog · 2 months
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waddle family
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sp0o0kylights · 22 days
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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4
Part Three: link
First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link
The kid was madder than a wet hen.
Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 
Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 
He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 
The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.
Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  
Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.
They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.
Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.
Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.
Unfortunately, so did Eds. 
Still.
 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best
Gave space.
Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.
Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 
One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 
Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 
‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 
Nope. 
‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 
Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 
‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’
That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 
Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 
Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 
They did not.
He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 
Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  
The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.
Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 
Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 
(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 
They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 
Steve too.)
“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 
Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.
An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 
“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  
Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 
“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 
Likely a lot of things. 
It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 
“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”
 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 
“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 
Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 
Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 
And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 
“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 
“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 
Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.
(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 
“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 
Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 
Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 
“He did.”
“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 
“I did.” 
He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 
Wayne took advantage. 
“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”
Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 
“‘Bout trust.” 
Eddie blinked at that. 
“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 
“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 
“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”
Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 
Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 
“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 
Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 
He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 
“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 
Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 
Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 
“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 
After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.
“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 
That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 
“How long is he staying here?”
Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 
Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 
“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 
Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 
Wayne sat with him as he processed. 
Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 
Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 
“What if he finds out?”  
This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 
It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 
The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 
This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 
Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 
Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.
‘Shit.’ 
“He won’t.” Wayne said. 
Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 
Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 
“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 
Hoped that in the future, it would be.
Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.
(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.
Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)
xXx
Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.
He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.
A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.
He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 
Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.
The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.
(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)
Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.
The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 
Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 
Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 
Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.
‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.
Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 
He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 
Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 
Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.
Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 
Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.
Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.
The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  
Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.
It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 
The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 
Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.
Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 
Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.
Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 
At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 
(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 
That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.
Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.
‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 
It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 
Wayne rolled his eyes. 
“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 
Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 
“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 
It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.
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yellodisney · 4 months
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praisethelorde · 1 month
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I just remembered that Balekin was the one who told Madoc where Jude and Taryn's mom was after she ran away from Elfhame. So Balekin's the reason Madoc took Jude, Vivi and Taryn back to Elfhame with him which indirectly caused Jude to kill Balekin all those years later. He would've still been alive if he weren't such a snitch lmao what a loser.
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thefourteenflames · 6 months
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" When Prince Daemon sent forth his call to arms, they rose up all along the rivers, knights and men-at-arms and humble peasants who yet remembered the Realm's Delight, so beloved of her father, and the way she smiled and charmed them as she made her progress through the Riverlands in her youth. Hundreds and then thousands buckled on their swordbelts and donned their mail, or grabbed a pitchfork or a hoe and a crude wooden shield, and began to make their way to Harrenhal to fight for Viserys's little girl." — George R.R. Martin; Fire & Blood.
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ningadudexx · 3 months
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Happy sun wukong sunday!! I am posting from the tree tops ( *_*) hope everymonkey has a good day forging for fruits and friends 🥭🐒
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voldheart · 6 months
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We need more little guy obsessed with his wife pale king NOW
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I see your "Casey wanted a child and talked Donnie into cloning her and thats how Junior was born" and raise you "Casey asked Draxum who did it no questions asked and they announced Junior's existence Lion King style in the base cafeteria"
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the-meme-monarch · 11 months
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four kings who ruled together huh. had no queens hm. they have kids you say.
cards are by kanotynes (on twitter and tumblr i think !) and i got the image from here, and ofc i got the sprite off spriters resource
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femmepathy · 6 months
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Stormé DeLarverie singing "There Will Never Be Another You" in Michelle Parkerson's "Stormé: The Lady of the Jewel Box" (1987)
full doc available now on the internet archive!
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mirai-e-jump · 1 month
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Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger Photo Book: ~King of Kings~ Character Bromides
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minophus · 1 month
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Reeepost rb this one instead:).
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sp0o0kylights · 10 months
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Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 
Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 
First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 
It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 
The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 
As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 
Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 
Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 
Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 
Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.
Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 
Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 
"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 
"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 
"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 
"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 
"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 
"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 
He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 
Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  
The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 
 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 
Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 
"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"
They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 
Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 
A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 
Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.
"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 
Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 
He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 
“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 
Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 
The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 
“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 
One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 
“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 
Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 
Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 
He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 
Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 
“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 
Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 
“Did he do that?” He asked. 
Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 
Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 
“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 
It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 
Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 
As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 
"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 
“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 
The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 
Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 
“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 
The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 
“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 
This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 
"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”
"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 
Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 
Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 
Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 
Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 
“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 
Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 
 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 
"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 
 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.
 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.
"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”
"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 
Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 
"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 
"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 
“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 
He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 
“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.
One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 
The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 
It was fake as hell, but it worked. 
“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  
 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 
xXx 
Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 
He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 
It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 
It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 
They really were looking for someone. 
Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.
Them. 
Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 
“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 
She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 
His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.
“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 
Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 
Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 
Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 
"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 
"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 
He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 
Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.
Food workers.
Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 
"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 
Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  
‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 
“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 
Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 
"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 
Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 
Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 
Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 
Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 
What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 
Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 
‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 
Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 
Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 
Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 
Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 
It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  
Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 
Worse?
This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 
Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.
Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.
What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 
“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 
The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 
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dumbbitch2-0 · 1 year
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The babies…. they are eeping….. they fell asleep mid-playfight
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gumycandyyy · 7 months
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୨♡ "At Your Beck And Call" ♡୧
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Trying out a oneshot! Or something like that idk.
Winter King x reader
Romantic
GN reader
RQ: nah fam, I accept requests though!
Word count: 1390
No use of y/n
Summary: You're adventuring through this interesting little world, and find yourself in a snowstorm. Next thing you know, you're in some kind of ice palace. What happened?
Walking through the snow, you look up into the sky. Cloudy. Best be quick.
A chilly breeze sneaks through the fabric of your shirt and deep into your bones. It would've been better if you'd brought a jacket. Though you didn't think your wish prepared you for that.
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"I wish..."
"You better think about this hard, dude. You only get one."
"Okay, okay. I wish... Hm..."
"Want a pickle?"
You agreed to Prismo's offer, gladly taking the snack. You crunched while you thought. Man, these were good pickles.
"Okay man, I'll admit I got nowhere to be, but you were kinda interrupting me. I was watching TV."
You tell Prismo that he can watch while you think, as you hadn't thought you would make it this far. He shrugged, and pressed a button on his remote.
You saw him flipping through channels rapidly, looking for one in particular.
"Hey, Prismo."
"Hm?"
"Are those just.. Shows? Or-"
"Oh, they're universes. Y'know, the multiverse theory right? I just get to watch everything. Perks of being an omnipresent god-type thing."
You think about your wish for another few moments. You snapped your fingers, and Prismo paused the TV.
"You know what you want?"
You nodded, rubbing your hands together.
"I wish that I-" "Be descriptive. Just in case, Y'know?"
You sighed with an exasperated smile. Taking a deep breath, you asked your question.
"I wish that I had the ability to travel freely and safely through the multiverse at will."
Prismo coughed loudly, as if choking on something. He took a deep breath, sighing.
"Okay, okay. So- I actually don't know if I'm allowed to do that."
"sigh."
"Did- did you just say 'sigh'?"
Prismo shook his question off, and sighed himself. He explained to you what he was and wasn't allowed to do, and how you were in a gray area of the rules. He finally shrugged.
"What could go wrong?"
He snapped his fingers, and suddenly you weren't in the time-cube-thingy anymore. You were in a grassy field. You felt something in the back of your pocket, and bringing it out, you saw a small pocket watch.
There was a note folded up and taped to the back of it. The handwriting was almost too small to see.
Yo, this thing is weird, right? Just wind the clock when you wanna change universes.
Don't break it.
I'm serious, this thing is expensive.
So armed with nothing but your wit and a pocketwatch, you traversed throughout the multiverse.
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You wished that you would've added 'immortality' to Prismo's wish.
The wind was picking up, whipping your hair around. You looked into the sky, seeing the clouds grow dark, and snow beginning to sprinkle. It was almost astounding how quickly the weather could change.
A few stray snowflakes blew straight into your mouth as you breathed in, causing you to cough. The wind whipped through you, and the snow fell into your eyes. The sky was as dark as ever, and the snow clumping to your feet made it hard to walk.
You wish you thought of bringing a jacket.
You really wish you thought of bringing a jacket.
It didn't even occur to you to leave this universe, you were too cold to think. Stumbling around in this white wasteland, you wondered if there were any towns nearby.
Just as you thought of that, you saw a light in the distance. Struggling to climb up an embarrassingly small hill, you saw a glowing little town next to a palace probably around a quarter mile away. It looked to be made of ice, but that might just be you blurred vision.
You staggered through the snow, just trying to make it to the town.
You stop in place when you realize you can't feel a single thing in your body. Breathing in deep through your nose and cringing at the chilled air, you decided to use up the last of your energy to get to that little town as quickly as possible.
Bringing your arms up and crossing them, you tried to keep as much warmth to your chest as possible. After getting within about 100 paces to the town, you were ready to collapse. You heard light and seasonal music playing from the town, and hummed along deliriously.
People were ice skating on a small lake near you, and you tried to call for help.
But you couldn't get out more than a whisper.
Collapsing into the snow, your vision blurred and darkened. Just as you were about to lose consciousness, you heard a voice.
"Ice scouts! Come help this-"
Then you were out.
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The next thing you knew, you were inside some glittering blue room. Was this place made of ice? Impossible, you were warm. Looking down, you saw that you were covered in blankets. Fluffy, Warm, blankets... You almost wanted to fall back asleep...
You sat up quickly, realizing you didn't know where you were. You then heard a soft voice from your bedside.
"Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling?"
You looked to your side, seeing a man sitting in a chair, reading some book. You couldn't see its title. The man had light blue skin, white hair, a long nose, and sparkling eyes.
You noticed he was dressed quite elegantly, and a crown sat atop his head.
"Who are you?"
He blinked for a moment, and laughed softly while slapping his forehead. He stood up, brushing himself off.
"Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is the Winter King. You'd passed out in the snow when my ice scouts and I were not but twenty feet away from you!"
You introduced yourself,and tried to remember what exactly happened, but couldn't. You just had to take the Winter King's word for it.
Wait..
Winter King.
You quickly apologized for being so nonchalant with royalty, but Winter King stopped you.
"Oh, no need for such formalities. You are a guest. It's my duty to serve you. If it would make you feel better, you may just call me Winter."
He sat down again, looking at you. Not in a creepy way, just... curious.
You nodded, taking a deep breath. The air was cold, but not nearly as dreadful as the blizzard outside. You then realized something strange. You asked Winter why it hadn't been pouring snow in the town. He laughs softly, smiling gently at your question.
Man, he was pretty.
"Oh, my dear, I have control over this domain. From every ice sculpture to every snowflake. While sometimes I cannot control the weather, I can however, keep it from affecting my town."
From your basic understanding of magic logic, this seemed plausible enough. You went to stand up, but suddenly felt very fatigued, your legs wavering. Winter stood up from his seat, ready to catch you if need be.
You cleared your throat, sitting down. Only then did you realize how much your throat hurt. You coughed for a moment, trying to get this scratchy feeling out. Winter noticed what you were doing, then gently clapped his hands. A person- looking to be made out of ice- skated into the room, holding a tray with a glass of water on it.
You thanked the little ice servant, and thanked Winter.
Winter seemed a little perplexed that you thanked the servant, but carried on, as it wasn't anything to fuss about.
"I see you're sick. Sometimes I can forget that people aren't immune to the effects of my wondrous realm."
He seemed to be really proud of his little winter wonderland. You looked out a massive window to see the town below.
The town.
You were in the castle.
Huh.
"However, I am more than willing to aid you throughout your journey to regain your health!"
This man cannot be real. He's so incredibly kind! You've never really met any royalty, but you guessed that Winter was pretty much the nicest king in history.
You sneezed into your elbow, then cleared your throat once again.
"Rest for now, my dear. Though, if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. I am at your beck and call."
Winter bowed, then gracefully slid out of the room. You forgot the floor was made of ice. Snuggling into the plush pillows and multiple blankets, you closed your eyes,
and drifted off.
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My first Winter King oneshot! This was so fun to make. Tell me if you'd like a part two!
reblog for a beginner writer?
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Your complimentary WK fanart ^^
Please send asks! I love writing prompts!
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kagoutiss · 8 months
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his divinely induced hyperthyroidism
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