#based on that scene in the nightmare forest
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
justfranzz · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
Been rewatching fantasy high lately
Tumblr media Tumblr media
164 notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 2 years ago
Text
raider masterlist
dark!Joel Miller x f!reader
new one shot Jan 5, 2025: forest floor. ⚠️ Nov 2024 note: this post hit the link limit, and I haven't decided what to do. I will still try to update the newest fic link above, but FYI it won't update a reblogged post.
Tumblr media
moodboard by @milla-frenchy 🖤 a rb will not stay up-to-date.
SUMMARY: He's a bad guy, and you're his good girl. Joel saves you from bad men, but claims you for himself. His persona starts to crack, but he gets even more possessive. You're his world, and he'll do anything to keep you. Emotional slow burn but smut the whole time. WARNINGS: 18+ canon-typical violence, noncon via implicit threat, evolving to enthusiastic dubious consent (stockholm syndrome), depraved use of praise and pet names (sweet pea, baby), unsafe P in V, exhibitionism, extreme possessiveness, dark fluff (����), angst, and more. NO USE of Y/N, No physical description of reader.
Spotify: raider, sweet pea (smut) Optional reference: trailer floor plan
Carter masterlist
main story
Note, non-bold links in this section were written out of order and may contain spoilers or references to future events. their placement in this list is based on timeline.
Raider: (Mar 24, 2023) - He "saves" you, then has his way with you but is kinda sweet about it. Joel POV (Oct 3, 1k)
Failed Rescue (Apr 8 - 1.9k) Your bf tries to save you. Joel makes him watch then keeps you.
Stash House (Apr 11 - 850)- Joel takes you to the stash house and shows everyone you're his. Wash Bin 🖤 (Aug 27, 1k) Shooting Practice Drabble(Jul 28, 1.6k)
Failed Escape (Apr 23, 4k)- Joel saves you from FEDRA, bathes you, amd edges you.
J. Miller (May 19, 2k) - Joel labels you with his switchblade and claims all your holes. dark. Can be skipped.
Home (May 29, 1.3k) - Joel makes dinner at home, cleans your chest, and tucks you in. 🖤
Company (Jun 9, 2.2k) - Joel brings home a girl to distract his men. dark. Extra Scene - angst.
Close (Jul 3, 2.7k) - close call with other raiders. You-almost-died sex, and later, tender sex 🖤
Gun Hug (Jul 31, 3.7k) - Joel traps 2 bad guys with some help and kills them while you. . .🖤 If you want him (1.5k) - he holds out to see🖤
Night Air (Aug 30, 3.5k) - Joel is brutal with a bad guy and his POV reveals some feelings. 🖤 Bonus blurb, wakeup pwp drabble
Hunger (Sep 29, 7k) - Joel takes you on a trek, comforts you, kills a guy, and gives you head. 🖤 He's only human (1.1k) - 👱‍♂️Carter POV, overlaps w/ hunger.
No cliffhangers. Bulletin from Tox
Bodies (Dec 3, 7.8k) - Strangers show up and cause a shitstorm, but Joel takes a big step. 🖤 Raider POV
more (drabbles, etc)
🔥 smut
Trying to use him (800) (riding) 🔥
House meeting drabble 🖤
You get sick at night drabble 🖤
He goes down on you (oral f) 🔥
If you touched his scar
if men had hurt you in the past
if you got your period 🖤
magazine and makeup 🖤
yoga pwp drabble piv 1k 🔥
boots drabble (oral f receiving) 🔥
graveyard blurb (spice)
if you bit his arm drabble (p in v) 🔥
If you snapped (emotional spice) 🖤
face sitting on sofa 🔥
being bad, looking good (2.8k, smut) 🔥
Van ride drabble (800) 🖤
sleeping beast (<1k), PWP 🔥
If Joel was sick 🖤
If you were annoying
cutting his hair 🖤
waking up on top 🔥
tired 🖤
waking up on top again 🔥
Sweet pea overhears Joel 🔥
Choking on his dick (600) 🔥
his birthday 🥺
Note: not all content is linked. Asks can lead to lore, snippets, and previews or hints of future plot points, etc. which are not added here.
quickie (daddy kink scenario) 🔥
✨Roly poly - comfort 🖤
Headcanons (not written like fic)
If another man has his way (Q&A)
dacryphilia - evolved update (Q&A)
if you had scars or tattoos (Q&A)
sweet pea by herself
If you sketched Joel and Jack
Apple picking 🖤
Responding to a Nightmare 🖤
accidentally hurting her 🖤
Analysis (#raider!analysis)
why does he keep her
why did he snap (in Company extra scene)
his eye contact
his affection / feelings, trajectory 🖤
falling for sweet pea
his self hate and her feelings
the dog and joel's concern for you
awareness of growth / why keep her
Raider Tommy
Birds of prey (2.6k)
Art, etc.
Mattress by esquire magazine
Stitches by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
collage by @milla-frenchy
lose control edit by @survivingandenduring
🌸 sweet pea mood boards by various
6 month collage by milla-frenchy
6 month cake by not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
🌸 sweet pea cosplay from night air
👱‍♂️carter mood board by @romana-after-dark
pts. 1-3 rb mood boards by @iamasaddie
night air gif by not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
raider/sweet pea collage by milla
sweet pea's pup by @dark-scape
want it that bad gif by dark-scape
Bodies gif by not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
👱‍♂️carter mood board by milla
Then and now drawing by romana-after-dark
Raider/sweet pea drawings by @lumoverheaven
our stars moodboard by milla
raiding edits by gasolinerainbowpuddles
under the anger by iamasaddie
🎥 Trailer (video) by @carminepoison
birthday sketch by lumoverheaven
In love w raider by milla
✨ checks that you're ok 🐺 by milla
If I've left yours off please lmk I prob tagged improperly
Back to Joel Masterlist
Fic recs: other raiders
🖤 If mine or another writer's work has inspired yours, it's always better late than never to share / shout-out 🖤
3K notes · View notes
aleksiej · 4 months ago
Text
does rottmnt donnie dislike touch?
i have rewatched all of rottmnt and am ending this debacle once and for all (at least for me lol)
based on the two seasons, the movie and the comics (tho the comics don't really bring anything to this conversation) i think i have the answer to one of the more controversial topics in this fandom
(no, it's not the yuichi vs usagi debate, usagi obviously wins that no sweat)
so, does donnie dislike touch?
in the series, he is shown being fairly touchy with his siblings throughout the series, with some exceptions i will try to list now, tho not with proper episode names as i am not looking them up, sorry not sorry:
pilot episode, captured by draxum in a cacoon with mikey he's visibly uncomfortable and tries to get away
mikey's solo mission, he doesn't look at any of the and in response to a hug he pats mikey's head with a metal arm from his battle shell.
glued together, he's showing visible discomfort at being forced into close (touching) proximity of his brothers, tho that discomfort is somewhat elevated when they do a second go-round after the sticky foam ball got crushed
that time splinter caught everyone in a trap hanging in the lair (i think it's the forest survival episode?), he's, again, uncomfortable and the first to find a solution to their entrapment, be it on his phone
there's probably more, but that's what i remember from the series and spread out on about 60 episodes it's noticeable, but not a deciding factor, especially since donnie's also seen being fine with touch. now, the movie offers us even more of a look into donnie's relationship with touch. this list will include every instance presented i can think of, in no particular order.
during leo and raph's fight after they lost the key, donnie jumps on raph's back in an attempt to stop him from advancing in the fight, as mikey tries to shield leo. it's a very quick decision and doesn't seem to particularly trouble donnie.
after the kraang come through the portal and the turtles escape-pod out, mikey's panicking and grabbing cj, also causing him distress. donnie grabs mikey under his arms like a plushie and is shown to carry him until leo gets back with a panic attack and news of raph, upon which leo starts at cj with a fight in mind and donnie and mikey keep him away. again, no distress is coming off of donnie, no more than the regular situation call for (although he gets more logic-minded and quiet as the movie goes on with only small donnie moments breaking it up, which seems to be how he reacts to stress, but that'll be in another fever post)
he's touching mikey sometimes during the subway battle, but it's most likely he either didn't notice or didn't care, considering everything else happening in that fight (ps the kraang train is my favorite villainous entity in the franchise, give me more of the kraang train and i will give you my soul)
he's shown very visibly having sensory issues (very relatable) throughout the whole movie because of the kraang. not necessarily to do with touch, oh except for the part when he had to get EATEN BY THE TECHNODROME THROUGH HIS BARELY TOUCHED AT ALL SOFT SHELL which is shown to be a sensory nightmare and awful to touch and yes, i had night terrors if that, thank you very much.
at the very end, they all hug with no visible problems except for the fact that they are on staten island. that is to say, there's one important scene still, it happens before the end, but i wanted to have space to gush about it so here we go.
the famous scene of raph grabbing donnie and mikey flying through the air, yelling "don't worry donnie, it's not a hug, it's a rescue". probably the most important thing said in accordance to donnie's relationship with touch.
in my personal opinion, donnie doesn't mask (i mean look at his behavior) or if he does, he does it, rarely in public and even rarer with just his brothers. so every one of the hamato clan knows at least the most important of donnie's boundaries, especially related to the autism, as it's handled well within their family structure (both donnie's and mikey's autism is) . so, if raph calls out to him to warn about the hug he's giving donnie and treats it like a potential bad thing, there are really only two conclusions we can get to.
one, donnie doesn't like/hates physical contact. disputed by just about everything else in the show, except for the listed above exceptions.
two, donnie being open to touch or not is conditional. and considering the mentioned exceptions and raph's rescue from the movie, there's one similarity we can notice between them.
the touch affecting donnie is happening without his consent and without a form of escape.
(except for when donnie's hugged by mikey in his solo mission episode, but considering he's already kind of detached, i'm assuming he's just not up to it and so he uses his robotic extra arms to give comfort instead of ignoring his little brother which aww)
that's the uncomfortable part, the unpredictability and lack of a way to detach himself. aka, donnie's just like me for real. lmao.
donnie probably doesn't mind touch and welcomes it, but needs to be in control of the process and be able to leave if he gets overwhelmed. and his family knows that, hence raph's words in the movie that led so many people astray...
this might just be another evidence of how well donnie is written as an autistic character, both with his low empathy not being demonized and not preventing him from creating bonds (tho sometimes making it difficult) and the fact that the most common opinion of autistic people (that they hate touch, which is something a psychiatrist brought up as evidence of me not being autistic) doesn't apply to everyone.
as a summary, rottmnt donnie is probably the best version of donnie right now and he doesn't hate touching, he just has to touch on his own terms. extremely valid, extremely relatable.
Tumblr media
179 notes · View notes
liyliths · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
౨ৎ ⋆ 。˚ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑
summary: you thought you lost nancy, and you've supposedly figured out what's causing your nightmares. also, hopper is apparently interested in conspiracies about children with telekinesis, wonder where that one will go! while you're shopping for supplies to go monster hunting with nancy and jon, you run into the one and only: steve harrington, who sucks at relationships, and you can guess how that one ends. hopper finally finds out you've been tracking down a monster, and you've concluded everyone is absolutely terrible at keeping secrets!
The boy coldly looked down at Nancy, then shifted his hardened gaze to Y/N standing beside her. “And you, Smith, find some better friends. You’re better than a perv and a cheater.”  Y/N’s jaw clenched, but she kept her voice steady. “You know what’s funny?” She called after him as he began to walk away, her voice sharp. Steve stopped in his tracks, turning to face her, waiting for her to speak. “I didn’t even know you and Nancy were dating. Hell, I never saw you act like it.” Steve locked eyes with Y/N, waiting for the girl to get to her point. “I also know cheating applies to flirting with other girls while you’re in a relationship, Harrington. Get some fucking self-respect.”
pairings: steve harrington x reader
warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, fist fighting, mentions of nightmares, and steve harrington sucks at relationships
word count: 8.2k
────────────────────────────────────────────
The moonlight shined through the trees overhead, casting a gentle blue hue. The forest seemed to close in around Y/N and Jonathan as they raced through the trees with their hearts pounding in their chests. Y/N’s flashlight cut through the oppressive darkness, its beam darting from tree to tree, searching—praying for a sign, desperation growing with each step.
She couldn’t lose Nancy too.
“Nancy!” Y/N desperately shouted for the missing girl, making rushed steps through the dark forest.
"Nancy!" Jonathan’s voice strained after Y/N’s as it echoed through the trees, the urgency clear in his tone. The silence that followed gnawed at Y/N’s nerves, and her pulse quickened as they followed their tracks back to where Nancy was before they split up. Then, something flickered in the distance—something out of place. "There," Y/N pointed ahead, her voice barely above a whisper as she spotted the sight of a tree with Nancy's belongings scattered at its base. Jonathan’s head snapped in its direction, and they both sprinted toward it, skidding to a halt as their flashlights illuminated the scene.
It wasn't the belongings that caught their attention—it was the gaping hole in the trunk, like a bright wound torn open in the bark, making Y/N’s blood run cold. 
It was just like the one she had seen in her nightmare.
“Nancy!” Y/N screamed out, desperately now, only to be met with silence—the breeze whispering through the trees as if mocking their efforts.
“Y/N?!” Nancy’s voice suddenly screeched back, echoing through the dark forest—except she was nowhere to be found, her voice faint in the breeze.
“Follow our voices!” Jonathan shouted, kneeling in front of the tree, looking into the gaping portal with desperation growing in every inch of his body, searching for any sign of the girl.
“Nancy!” Y/N's shout pierced through the forest, calling out for the girl. “Where the hell is she?” Y/N's eyes darted around the trees, not spotting Nancy anywhere—despite her voice being so close.
She then knelt beside Jonathan in front of the tree and shined the beam of her flashlight into it, getting a closer look. They examined the hole in the tree, it gaped like torn-open flesh in the trunk, with the faintest glowing orange pulse coming from the inside of it. 
“What the...?” Jonathan whispered, his voice trembling. Y/N’s flashlight flickered over the dark, slick surface of the portal as she moved closer, hypnotized by the sight. She swallowed hard, her fingers itching to touch the strange, otherworldly portal.
“Don’t—” Jonathan protested as he reached for her arm, but before he could stop her, Y/N's fingertips already grazed the slick surface. 
Suddenly—a hand burst forth from the depths of the portal. Y/N screamed, stumbling backward, her heart lurching into her throat as she and Jonathan fell back to the ground in shock. Their flashlights flickered wildly, casting long, distorted shadows across the forest floor.
"Help!" Nancy's desperate scream echoed through the darkness of the woods, crying out. Y/N stared at the slick, pale hand that now protruded from the portal, her chest heaving.
“Jonathan, help me!” She scrambled forward, clutching Nancy's hand as she desperately tried to pull her friend back to safety. The cold, slimy texture sent a shiver down her spine, but she held on tight, refusing to let go.
Together, Y/N and Jonathan pulled with every ounce of strength they could muster, their hands trembling as they fought against the strange, resistant pull of the portal. Nancy’s cries grew louder, more desperate—as her upper body began to emerge from the depths of the twisted tree, covered in the thick slime.
“Come on, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice was hoarse, his knuckles turning white as he gripped Nancy’s arm. 
Y/N’s muscles burned, her fingers slipping against the thick layer of slime coating Nancy’s skin, but she refused to let go. Her face strained, squeezing her eyes shut as her brows furrowed together. With a final, strained pull, Nancy came tumbling out of the portal, crashing into their arms as they collapsed together on the forest floor.
For a moment, none of them spoke, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Nancy clung to them, trembling uncontrollably, her face pale and her eyes wide with terror. Y/N pulled her closer, wrapping her arms even tighter around her friend, her heart pumping out of her chest with adrenaline.
“It’s okay,” Y/N whispered, her voice shaky as she stroked her friend’s slick hair. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”
Nancy’s breath hitched as she tried to steady herself, clinging to her friends as if they were her lifeline. As Y/N and Jonathan held onto Nancy, they faced the tree she came out of—watching in stunned silence as the gaping portal in the bark began to close, sealing itself shut, until it was nothing more than an ordinary tree that no one would even look twice at.
Y/N locked eyes with Jonathan—questions written all over her expression. She swallowed hard, pushing down her panic. “We need to get out of here,” she said quietly, her eyes darting nervously around the dark woods.
Jonathan stood first, offering his hands to the girls to help them up. “Let’s get back to the car,” he said, his voice steady, though his hands trembled as he helped Nancy and Y/N to their feet, feeling the slight tremor lingering through Nancy’s shocked body.
𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧’�� 𝐂𝐚𝐫
The dark road stretched out in the night, only illuminated by the faint glow of the vehicle's headlights. The moon hung low in the sky, casting light over the treetops that framed the narrow path. Inside the car, the tension was heavy. The hum of the engine sounded, but it did little to ease the growing discomfort between the group.
Nancy sat in the back seat beside Y/N, her hands clasped tightly together, trembling slightly as she spoke. She didn’t look like herself—her face was pale, with big, wide eyes. Her clothing, which was usually neat and put together, still held traces of the slime that had covered her in the woods.
"Then I stepped on one of those vines—they were moving. Like…" She trailed off, her voice still shaken. She glanced down at her feet, not meeting anyone’s gaze, but her mind was clearly elsewhere—back in the woods, back in that terrifying place she escaped from.
Y/N sat beside Nancy and felt her stomach twist. “Like living veins?” She asked softly, finishing Nancy’s sentence, snapping the girl back to reality.
“Yeah… like veins.” Nancy nodded, furrowing her eyebrows in thought, pausing for a brief moment.
“Your sketchbook… when you showed us what you saw in your dream back in the photo lab, that’s exactly what everything looked like,” Nancy recalled, a lightbulb going off in her mind. She turned in her seat, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Do you still have it with you?”
Without a word, Y/N nodded, slowly pulling the sketchbook from her shoulder bag. Her fingers felt cold as she flipped through the pages, each sketch bringing a new wave of dread washing over her. She hesitated for a moment, then pointed to the page Nancy had been referring to—the monster. Its twisted form, surrounded by the same vein-like vines that Nancy had described, stared back at them in pencil and ink.
“That,” Nancy’s voice was almost a whisper as she reached out to trace her finger along the edges of the sketch. “That’s the thing I saw. But how… how did you see this in your dream before any of this even happened?” Her eyes darted between Y/N’s, filled with confusion.
Y/N swallowed hard, her throat dry. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely audible over the low rumble of the car. She glanced out the window, watching the dark forest blur by. “It feels like… with everything going on, they keep getting worse—the dreams.”
Jonathan’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, watching the exchange between the two girls, his brows furrowed in concern. He hadn’t said much since Nancy began talking about what she saw, but his silence was filled with the same unspoken dread they all felt.
Nancy looked back at Y/N, her expression urgent. “Have you had any more? Since… since all of this?” She questioned, her voice hushed—as though afraid the answer would be yes.
Y/N slowly nodded, her hands trembling as she clutched the sketchbook in her lap. “Yeah. The last one…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the lines of the drawing, feeling the weight of it all.
"It was different this time. Worse.” 
As Y/N finished her sentence, the air in the car felt heavy, as though they were all bracing for something none of them were prepared to hear.
“What did you see?” Jonathan softly urged, his voice quiet but firm, eyes darting in the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of Y/N.
Y/N’s breath hitched as she began to speak, her voice trembling. “It was like… I was back in the woods again. But everything was wrong. The trees were twisted, covered in those same vines, except they weren’t just moving… they were alive. Pulsing with this dark, slimy goo. The air was so thick, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
Jonathan tightened his grip on the steering wheel as Y/N spoke, his knuckles turning white. Nancy’s hand, still hovering over the sketch, trembled slightly as she listened.
“And then… I heard Barb,” Y/N’s voice wavered as she spoke her name, taking a breath. 
“She was crying for help. I—I tried to run toward her, I almost had her, but the ground… it's like it opened up, and she… she was pulled under. I reached out, but I couldn’t—” Her voice broke, unable to finish her sentence, fidgeting with the hem of her jacket to distract herself from the lump forming in the back of her throat.
Nancy’s hand slowly raised to her mouth, her own eyes filling with tears as she imagined what Y/N had seen. “Is Barb…” Nancy tried to speak, but her breath hitched, her voice catching in her throat.
Jonathan, silent but focused, finally spoke up, his voice steady. “You think these dreams… they’re like some kind of warning? Or…” He trailed off, not knowing what to believe anymore.
Y/N shrugged, shaking her head as she tucked strands of hair that fell in her face behind her ear. “I don’t know… But every time I wake up, I feel like… something worse is going to happen. Like, I’m seeing things that I shouldn’t be.”
Nancy took a shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts. “Then maybe…” She began slowly, her voice laced with unease. “That creature, the one from your dream—it has to be what took Barb. What took Will, maybe the answers are right in front of us…”
Y/N hesitantly nodded, her mind swirling with the terrifying possibility.
Jonathan’s voice cut through the thick tension. “It makes sense. The creature was eating that deer which was already bleeding out before we got to it… maybe it’s attracted to blood.”
Nancy’s expression hardened as she spoke, her face set into a determined line. “It’s out there. We have to stop that thing before it takes anyone else.”
Y/N stared at her sketchbook, feeling a heavy knot of dread forming in her stomach. She flipped through more pages, her drawings feeling much less like dreams—and more like glimpses of the horrifying reality she was beginning to find herself in.
𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫
A pair of headlights cut through the darkness outside Hopper’s trailer, their harsh beams illuminating the swirling cloud of bugs that buzzed toward the light. The quiet hum of insects filled the night, their flutters growing louder as they gathered at the light.
Y/N stepped out of Jonathan’s Ford, the cool fall air hitting her skin. Nancy, still visibly shaken, slid out of the backseat to take her place in the front.
“Call me if you guys need anything,” Y/N said, watching as Nancy buckled herself in the passenger seat, her eyes distant.
“Got it,” Jonathan replied, his voice tinged with concern. His gaze drifted toward the empty driveway, finding Hopper’s car nowhere in sight. “And you’re sure Hopper will be here soon?”
“Yeah, he’ll be back soon.” Y/N offered a reassuring nod, though she wasn’t certain. With a final wave, she made her way up the gravel path to the trailer, listening to the crunch of her footsteps as Jonathan’s car pulled away, its taillights fading into the night.
Shaking off her unease, Y/N unlocked the front door and stepped inside, greeted by a blanket of darkness. She flipped the lock behind her, a chill running down her spine as she touched the cold metal. She tossed her bag onto the couch near the front door, the thud of it against the cushions muffled in the quiet room.
It wasn’t like Hopper to be out this late. Y/N scanned the room, her eyes drawn to the glowing red numbers on the clock, 10:34 PM. Hopper should have been home by now. Although it’s been usual for him to be running late with everything going on, he’s usually back no past ten PM. 
Her fingers hesitated on the TV remote as she stood before switching it on, the static-filled screen flickering to life, bathing the room in a dull glow. She switched on the nearby lamp, the warm light doing little to chase away the strange feeling gnawing at her gut. It wasn’t until she sat down that she realized something was off—really off.
The trailer was a mess.
Newspapers were strewn across the coffee table, articles scattered, as though someone had been frantically scanning through them. Empty beer cans littered the floor, some crushed, others standing untouched. Pill bottles were scattered on the table, some toppled over, their contents spilled. But what really caught Y/N’s eye was the phone—it had been unplugged, lying lifeless next to the wall socket.
Most of all, why was Hopper drinking again? 
Y/N’s brow furrowed as she stepped toward the cluttered table, the papers crinkling under her fingers as she flipped through them. One article stood out immediately:
"Terry Ives Suing" ‘They took my daughter’
By Benjamin Buck
“After the district attorney’s office declined to press criminal charges citing lack of evidence, local resident Terry Ives is not giving up her search for justice for herself and her daughter, and this morning filed a lawsuit against research scientist Dr. Martin Brenner and his staff.”
“Ms. Ives's suit seeks unspecified damages against Dr. Brenner and his facility, alleging physical abuse, sleep deprivation, malnourishment, and kidnapping. The suit alleges Dr. Brenner’s group was negligent in communicating the risks of the study, and in verifying Ives was physically fit for—”
Y/N’s eyes darted to the other articles and photos scattered across the table. Images of children in hospital gowns, their heads shaved clean, their faces devoid of any emotion. One image stuck out—a small girl, not as old as the others, staring blankly into the camera. A chill ran down her spine.
“Experimenting on children? Telekinesis? This is heavy stuff,” Y/N whispered to herself, shaking her head as she attempted to wrap her mind around the articles she examined. There was no way any of this was real, it had to be written by conspiracists.
It was crazy—beyond crazy.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden flash of headlights spilling through the window. She froze, her pulse quickening as the familiar sound of Hopper’s vehicle engine cut through the still night. She watched from the corner of her eye as the man stepped out, moving quickly toward the front door.
The door swung open with a creak, and Hopper’s eyes immediately locked onto Y/N’s in the living room, who was still standing by the coffee table, clutching one of the articles in her hand.
“What is all of this?” Y/N’s voice cut through the tension as she gestured to the mess around her. She stepped forward, watching Hopper carefully as he shut the door behind him. His face was covered with exhaustion, but there was something else there too, something Y/N couldn’t quite place.
“It’s, um…” Hopper hesitated, clearly caught off guard. He glanced around the room, his eyes briefly landing on the crumpled beer cans and scattered pills, slightly panicking.
“A friend dropped by. Brought me some stuff, y’know, to read.” He reached for the cans, scooping them up in one hand and tossing them into the trash can with a clatter. “They know I like to keep up with the papers,” he added, as if that explanation would somehow smooth everything over.
Y/N crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Really?” She dragged, her voice dripping with skepticism as she glanced down at the articles again. 
“Really.” Hopper mocked, his tone confident.
“Because last time I checked, you weren’t into conspiracy theories about missing kids with mind powers, and you quit drinking.” Y/N shot back.
Hopper stilled for a moment, his expression faltering as he busied himself with plugging the phone back into the wall. He didn’t answer, and that only confirmed what Y/N already suspected—he was hiding something.
"Go to bed, kid. I'll clean this up," Hopper mumbled, turning away. His tone was evasive, as if ending the conversation would bury the entire topic. "You might be on your own for breakfast. Got an early start tomorrow."
Y/N didn’t move, her eyes narrowing as she watched him. As she held one of the articles, Hopper passed her and grabbed it out of her hands, stacking it with the rest of the articles. She could see right through him.
There was more going on here—something he didn’t want her involved in.
“Yeah, sure, Hopper,” she muttered, turning on her heel and heading toward her room, but not before throwing one last glance at the papers. Whatever Hopper was mixed up in, it wasn’t just a routine case.
And she wasn’t about to let him keep her in the dark.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
The sudden blare of the telephone cut through the quiet stillness of the trailer, jarring Y/N from her final moments of sleep. She stirred, blinking groggily as the early morning light fell through the thin curtains in her room.
The air was cool, and the distant sound of birds chirping filtered in from outside. With a groan, she pushed herself up, tossing the covers aside and shuffling outside to the living room as the ringing persisted, each note pulling her further into consciousness.
"Hello?" She muttered as she picked up the phone, her voice hoarse with sleep as she glanced at the clock on the wall—noting it was only 8:07 AM. She frowned, wondering who would be calling this early.
“Get ready and meet me at my house,” came Nancy’s voice on the other end, laced with urgency.
Y/N groaned, dragging a hand over her face as she tried to focus. "What? Why?"
"Just hurry up! I’ll see you soon!" Nancy chimed before the line went dead, leaving Y/N staring at the receiver in disbelief. She huffed, hanging up the phone, muttering under her breath as she shuffled toward her room to get ready.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬
Y/N biked through the quiet streets, the crisp fall breeze brushing past her cheeks as the soft hum of her tires on the pavement filled the air. She turned onto Maple Street, approaching the Wheeler's house. As she propped her bike against the garage and approached the front door, she could already smell breakfast cooking.
The door creaked as she stepped inside, and Y/N was met with Mrs. Wheeler peeking over from the kitchen with a pan in hand, while Mr. Wheeler sat at the kitchen table, immersed in a newspaper. Mrs. Wheeler, being the kind woman she is, warmly greeted the girl, “Hey Y/N, it’s nice to see you! Breakfast is almost done if you’d like some.” 
“Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler, that would be nice.” Y/N sent a polite smile, watching Mr. Wheeler aggressively flip his newspaper. 
“You might as well invite the entire neighborhood over for breakfast,” He muttered, earning a swat on the shoulder from Karen as she passed him, placing cooked eggs on a big plate.
“Please, don’t mind him, you’re welcome anytime.” Mrs. Wheeler shook her head, glancing at Y/N as she sent a small smile, taking her jacket off in the living room. 
“Y/N, dear, would you mind grabbing the boys for breakfast? They’re in the basement on your left,” The woman kindly asked as she organized the breakfast plates. 
“Of course, Mrs. Wheeler.” Y/N nodded, setting her jacket on the couch, then making her way towards the basement.
As she approached, she could hear hushed voices from below, along with quick shuffling footsteps. She descended the staircase, only to be met with the group of boys standing awkwardly in front of a fort, almost as if expecting her arrival.
Dustin was the first to speak, a guilty grin covering his face. “Hey, Y/N, what are you doing here?”
Before Y/N could speak, a noise came from behind the fort, but Lucas cleared his throat with an awkward smile, playing it off. “Sorry, something got stuck in my throat,” He said, earning a hard slap on the back from Mike before Lucas shoved him. 
“Just helping you, man.” Mike protested, throwing his hands up defensively.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused by their strange behavior, but ultimately not too concerned. “Mrs. Wheeler says breakfast is ready, she wants you guys upstairs.”
“Oh, uh, yeah! We’ll be right up,” Dustin replied quickly, glancing nervously between Mike and Lucas.
Y/N lingered for a moment, watching the boys fidget. “Alright then,” she finally said with a shrug. “But don’t take too long, or the food will get cold.”
“Got it, Y/N!” Dustin added, nodding swiftly with a convincing smile.
She dispersed up the basement stairs, entering the living room. “I told the boys to come up. I’ll be right back, going to check on Nancy,” Y/N announced to Mrs. Wheeler as she approached upstairs, and she replied with a, “Thank you, Y/N!”
As Y/N climbed the steps, she heard a soft, almost panicked shuffling coming from behind Nancy’s door. Faint whispers followed, too muffled to make out but enough to raise an eyebrow. Y/N approached Nancy’s door, knocking on it softly.
"It’s me," Y/N announced, and the door flew open in an instant. Nancy stood there, her hair messy, and behind her, Jonathan was crawling out from beneath her bed, his face flushed with embarrassment.
"Hi, Jonathan." Y/N greeted him casually through a smug smirk that tugged at her lips. "You guys are terrible at being secretive."
Jonathan stood up quickly, brushing off his jeans with a sheepish grin. "Hey," he muttered, glancing between the two girls.
"Everything okay?" Y/N asked, her gaze shifting to Nancy. “Yeah, but just so you know, it’s not what it looks like,” Nancy spoke as she shut the door behind Y/N, earning a soft chuckle.
“Don’t worry, that’s not what I thought. After last night, I could’ve used some company too.” Y/N shrugged, walking over to the edge of Nancy’s bed to take a seat.
"Well,” Nancy cleared her throat, her expression determined. “We have a plan—we’re going to need weapons and traps, lots of them.”
𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞
Inside the hunting store, guns were hanging upon the walls, with mannequins styling the store's apparel—there was any kind of weapon or contraction you could need lying about. Nancy, Jonathan, and Y/N set their items down at the checkout counter, the cashier’s expression growing with curiosity, mostly utter disbelief. They had bear traps, gasoline, lighter fluid, nails—you name it. 
“And uh, four boxes of .38s.” Jonathan set his hands on the counter as Nancy continued setting things down, while Y/N helped to unload their shopping basket. Older music from the 70s blared over the speakers above the group, watching as the cashier grabbed the bullet cases from the shelf and set them down on the counter.
“What are you kids doing with all of this?” The cashier finally admitted his curiosity. Jonathan fidgeted his fingers nervously, and the group glanced at each other, not quite finding the right words. 
“Uh—” Jonathan began, before stopping himself, clenching his jaw.
“Monster hunting,” Nancy spoke up, shrugging as she raised her eyebrows sarcastically, causing the cashier to scoff—shaking his head in disbelief as he checked them out.
“Monster hunting?” Y/N mocked Nancy’s words as they returned to Jonathan’s Ford outside the hunting store. The sky was overcast and the streets were not so busy, mostly walked by people running errands with few cars passing by.
“Not like he would believe us either way,” Nancy shrugged as they approached the boy’s vehicle, opening the trunk. Jonathan chuckled as the group unloaded the hunting items in the trunk until Y/N paused, squinting her eyes to read the bright red title that caught her eye at the local movie theatre, The Hawk.
“You know, last week… I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve Harrington might like, to impress him.” Nancy recalled as she and Jonathan continued unloading the supplies, but Y/N let out a small gasp, finally realizing what the big, ugly red letters read at the theatre. 
“All The Right Moves: Starring Nancy The Slut Wheeler.”
“Uh, Nancy…” Y/N’s heart dropped to her stomach, staring at the spray-painted letters in complete disbelief.
It was cruel.
“It took me and Barb all weekend, it seemed like life or death, you know? And, now…” Nancy trailed off, paying no mind to Y/N as Jonathan finished her sentence.
“You’re shopping for bear traps with Y/N and Jonathan Byers.” Jonathan grinned sheepishly, gazing at Nancy before he shut the trunk.
“Yeah…” Nancy gave a soft smile, turning to glance at Jonathan.
“Guys,” Y/N’s eyes darted between Nancy and Jonathan, but they didn’t even spare a look at her.
“What’s the weirdest part? Me, or the bear trap?” Jonathan nudged Nancy’s shoulder with his elbow playfully, earning a hearty chuckle.
“You. Most definitely you—”
“If you idiots would stop flirting with each other, you could listen to what I’m saying!” Y/N was now yelling, attempting to get their attention, and she got it—before it was taken away by a car honking behind them on the street.
“Hey, Nance! We can’t wait to see your movie,” A boy called out with a nasty grin, his arm slinging out of the rolled-down window as the car drove by.
“What the hell was that?” Jonathan murmured, glancing between Nancy and Y/N. 
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but…” Y/N began, unsure of how to even tell Nancy about the words written on the theatre for the entire town to see. Before Y/N could continue, Nancy’s gaze shifted behind her, her eyes widening in shock as her jaw dropped. 
“What?” Jonathan scoffed, watching as Nancy hurried off, picking up her feet to jog across the street. “Where is she going?” The boy shook his head as Y/N followed behind him, chasing Nancy down the road.
They now stood before the Hawk, with the bold, awful, ugly red letters on display. Y/N looked between the sign and Nancy, shaking her head. “Who in their right mind would even do this? You haven’t been with anyone Nance, have you?” Y/N questioned, watching her friend look at the sign in disbelief.
Nancy was in a daze, feeling as if everyone who passed her had their eyes glued onto her, which… most of them did, whispering under their breath to one another. It was a small town, and the Wheelers were a known family, so Nancy’s name was something anyone would recognize.
The sound of faint chuckling and spray paint cans rattling echoed in Y/N’s ears, and she turned to see a group of teens vandalizing the side of The Hawk in the alleyway across the street. Nancy also seemed to catch onto it, taking quick strides toward the alleyway. 
Y/N caught up with her, with Jonathan a distance behind, turning into the alleyway to find the one and only—Steve Harrington, and his group of douchebag friends, with the same red spray paint that was on The Hawk.
Nancy’s fists clenched at her sides, her lips pressed into a thin line, before taking angry steps towards the group. Although Y/N didn’t know the entire story, she could recognize the look on her face—Nancy was angry, but most of all, hurt.
“Aw, hey there, princess!” Carol’s mocking tone pierced through Y/N’s ears. “Didn’t think the two of you would show up!” She added with a sneer, her eyes flicking between the girls.
Y/N was close behind Nancy, watching her march toward Steve. He didn’t look too happy either—his usual smug grin was replaced with something darker, more defensive. Tommy lazily grinned, holding a can of spray paint. "Uh oh, looks like someone's pissed," he droned, nudging Steve. 
Before anyone could react, Nancy’s hand flew through the air, smacking Steve across the face with a resounding slap, the sound echoing through the alleyway. Everyone gasped. 
“What is wrong with you?” Nancy’s voice trembled, the hurt breaking through her anger.
“What’s wrong with me?” Steve scoffed, holding his cheek. 
“What’s wrong with you, Nancy? I was worried about you.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but beneath it, there was something raw. “Can you believe it? I was actually worried about you.”
“What are you talking about?” Nancy threw her hands out, searching Steve’s face for answers.
“I wouldn’t lie if I were you, you don’t want to be the lying slut now, do you?” Carol stepped toward Nancy with an infuriating grin. Y/N reacted instinctively, stepping between the two and shoving Carol’s shoulder. 
“I would back off if I were you,” Y/N spat with a sharp glare, watching Carol’s jaw drop with disbelief, before Tommy snickered, looking behind them and breaking the tension.
“Oh-ho, speak of the devil!” Tommy smirked wickedly, raising his spray can as he watched Jonathan approach the group.
Nancy looked between Steve and Jonathan, her face softening just slightly. "He came by last night. Did you… try to sneak in or something?”
Carol couldn’t resist chiming in again, her voice grating, earning another glare from Y/N. “Ding, ding, ding! Does she win a prize?”
“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.” Nancy stepped toward Steve, firmly stating her case.
“What, did he come over to study?” Steve clicked, raising his brows.
“Or, for a pervy photo session?” Tommy chuckled, slinging his arm around Carol with a smug grin.
“Look, we were just—” Nancy tried to explain, but she hesitated, and Steve noticed it. 
“You were just what? Finish that sentence.” He mocked, stepping closer to Nancy, his tone cold. “Finish the sentence.” 
Nancy faltered, avoiding his gaze, her mouth hanging open as she searched for the right words. Steve scoffed, taking a step forward. “You wanted to play girlfriend and boyfriend, but the second this freak shows up,” he gestured toward Jonathan, “you change your mind.”
Nancy’s expression crumpled, her eyes flicking to Steve’s in a silent plea. “Because you—you…” Nancy stammered.
“Because I, what?” Steve snapped.
Nancy finally found her voice, “Because the second things started getting serious, you avoided me. You flirted with other girls, you—” she paused, her voice cracking slightly. “You pushed me away.”
Steve shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Go to hell, Nancy.” The boy coldly looked down at the girl, then shifted his hardened gaze to Y/N standing beside her. “And you, Smith, find some better friends. You’re better than a perv and a cheater.” 
Y/N’s jaw clenched, but she kept her voice steady. “You know what’s funny?” She called after him as he began to walk away, her voice sharp. Steve stopped in his tracks, turning to face her, waiting for her to speak.
“I didn’t even know you and Nancy were dating. Hell, I never saw you act like it.”
Steve locked eyes with Y/N, waiting for the girl to get to her point. “I also know cheating applies to flirting with other girls while you’re in a relationship, Harrington. Get some fucking self-respect.”
“Look, Y/N, it was never official!” Steve threw his hands out, in a weak attempt at defending himself.
“Then, Nancy’s not a cheater! You don’t even know the whole story!” Y/N shot back, throwing her own hands out.
Steve stepped closer, his voice low with anger. “You defending her?"
“Yeah, maybe this is a good time to learn how relationships work. You can’t treat people like pawns, Steve. Maybe by some miracle, this will teach you to act like you're actually in a relationship, and that’s if you could even stick to one girl—” Y/N began to ramble in a rage, before she felt herself get pulled back, locking eyes with Jonathan. 
“Let’s just go,” he muttered, trying to diffuse the tension.
Steve stepped toward Jonathan, his eyes narrowing at his hand locked around Y/N’s arm. “You know what, perv? I’m impressed, I always took you for a queer but I guess you’re just a little screw-up like your father,” Steve’s words began to shoot daggers as he shoved Jonathan, and Y/N was now grabbing his arm instead, guiding him away.
“Oh yeah, that house is full of screw-ups. You know, I guess you shouldn’t really be surprised, there’s a whole bunch of screw-ups in the Byers family,” Steve continued, and at this point, Y/N was dragging Jonathan’s arm while Nancy yelled at Harrington to stop.
“I mean, your mom! I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother,” The brown-haired boy wouldn’t stop, and Jonathan had entirely halted in his tracks as Y/N tugged on his arm, begging him to keep walking. 
“Please, Jonathan! It’s not worth it!” Y/N whispered urgently, watching Jonathan’s gaze shift to the ground. 
She felt the shift in his demeanor, his usual kind and quiet presence turning into something else. Y/N noticed the way he clenched his jaw, the way he held his fists together—his fingernails digging into his palms. He was starting to see red, and hell, Y/N couldn’t blame him.
“I’m sorry I have to break it to you, but the Byers, that family is a disgrace to the entire—”
Thwack!
Y/N gasped, her hand flying over her mouth as Jonathan’s fist collided with Steve’s cheekbone. The sound—a dull, sickening thud—echoed through the alley, sending Steve flying toward the vandalized brick wall. Steve staggered for a moment, holding his cheek as he looked back at Jonathan, absolutely infuriated.
Nancy rushed over to Jonathan, her eyes wide with fear, placing her hand on his back. “Jonathan, let’s go—”
Steve suddenly launched himself at Jonathan, tackling him to the ground with a sudden burst of anger. Both boys hit the pavement hard, and the sound of their bodies colliding sounded through the narrow alley. Nancy screamed, stumbling back as Y/N stood frozen, her heart pounding in her ears. They wrestled on the concrete, limbs flailing as they each tried to gain the upper hand.
“Get him, Harrington!” Tommy’s voice rang out, egging his friend on as if the fight was some kind of sick game.
Steve had managed to stand, watching as Jonathan prepared to throw another swing. This time, he managed to dodge it, catching Jonathan off guard—landing a hard punch on his cheek with a thud. Jonathan was quick to come back from it, fueled by a rage that had sat for too long, sending a haymaker at Steve—knocking him to the ground, the sound of flesh hitting against each other making Y/N sick to her stomach.
And then it became brutal.
Jonathan pinned Steve down and his fists began to fly, one after another, landing punch after punch into Harrington’s face. The sound of knuckles smashing into skin and bone filled the air, each hit wetter and more vicious than the last. Steve’s nose exploded in a spray of blood, staining the pavement beneath them. His hands were up in a weak attempt to block the blows, but Jonathan wasn’t stopping. 
His rage was blinding, his fists relentless as he took out everything on the boy beneath him. At this point—Steve lost, and Jonathan had gone too far. The sudden sound of police sirens alarmed the group, turning around to see a cop car enter the alleyway. Jonathan was relentless, the sirens not snapping him out of his frenzy.
“Jonathan, stop!” Y/N’s voice cracked with desperation, but her words fell on deaf ears. She looked to Nancy, who was equally frozen, her face pale as she watched the scene unfold in horror.
“Come on, man, he’s had enough, let’s go!” Tommy, now panicking, grabbed at Steve, trying to pull him away from the relentless beating on the ground. But Jonathan shoved him aside like he was nothing, focused solely on pounding Steve into the pavement.
An officer ran up behind Jonathan, attempting to grab him as well, but in his fury, he elbowed him in the nose—sending him backward and stunning him. But the other officer managed to twist Jonathan’s arms behind his back, forcing him to the ground.
Steve, barely conscious, was pulled to his feet by Tommy, his face swollen and bloody, but he still managed to stumble away with his friends, fleeing into the alleyway. Jonathan was now detained, and Harrington managed to escape with his friends.
Jonathan, panting heavily, was slammed against the police car, cuffs snapping around his wrists. His chest rose and fell with exhaustion, but his eyes still burned with anger as he glared at the spot where Steve had disappeared.
Nancy and Y/N stood frozen, their eyes locking in utter disbelief.
"Of course," Y/N muttered under her breath, throwing her hands in the air. "Of course, Steve Harrington gets away with this."
𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐏����𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
“Hey uh, chief, you there?” One of the officers radioed in, nervously adjusting his glasses while running a hand through his brunette hair. His eyes darted around, waiting for the familiar gruff voice to respond.
“Yeah, go ahead,” Hopper’s voice came through, his tone already impatient.
“A fight broke out here, and—” The officer began, attempting to relay the situation, only to be cut off by Hopper. 
“Cal, I don’t have time for this.” The chief was quick to reply, annoyance now clear in his tone. 
“It’s Jonathan Byers,” Cal quickly added, bracing for the reaction. “Y/N Smith and Nancy Wheeler are with him. You haven’t seen Joyce, have you?”
Y/N shifted uncomfortably in the police station, taking in the cluttered workspaces, with file cabinets lining the walls and navy curtains half-drawn over the windows. Across the way was a hall leading to Hopper’s office. She stood by the fridge behind reception in the main office, watching quietly as the police station’s receptionist, ever so thoughtful, retrieved ice for Jonathan’s bruised face.
“Do you think we’ll be out of here soon?” Y/N questioned, glancing at her friends before looking at the older woman through her glasses. Her skin was aged, with short dark brown hair, and hints of gray styled neatly.
“You and your friend, yes, him—no. He assaulted a police officer.” She stated, not missing a beat, her words dry and matter-of-fact as Y/N read the name badge on her shirt, “Flo”.
“You’re living with Hopper now, right?” Flo questioned, breaking Y/N out of thought, wrapping the ice that was in a plastic bag into cloth. 
“Uh—yes, for now.” Y/N shifted uncomfortably, being reminded of her living situation amid everything.
Flo eyed her for a moment before shrugging. “I think you remind him a lot of his daughter,” She bluntly stated, looking the girl up and down. 
Y/N blinked, trying to recall a time Hopper ever mentioned having kids. “He has a daughter?” 
“Had,” Flo corrected her, her expression softening slightly as she handed Y/N the ice pack, hesitating before speaking again.
“She passed away from terminal cancer a few years ago—he doesn’t like to talk about her… but I think ever since you’ve come into his life, he’s turned it around for the better. You know, to take care of you.” The woman explained as Y/N took the ice pack from her, blinking, unsure of what to say—a bit taken back.
“He's never told me that…” The girl’s voice was soft, trailing off.
Flo shrugged again, her lips curving in a wry smile. “Doesn’t surprise me. That man’s a tough nut to crack, but he cares.” With the ice pack in hand, Y/N walked back to Jonathan and Nancy. She handed it over to Nancy, who gently pressed it against Jonathan’s bruised cheek since his hands were bound in cuffs. “Thanks,” The boy offered a soft smile, his lips pressed into a curved line, until the trio heard a car outside come to a screeching halt, vehicle doors slamming.
“I think that’s Hopper.” Y/N winced through her teeth, preparing herself.
The front door burst open, and the sound of heavy rushed footsteps flew past reception into the main office, being met with Hopper and Jonathan’s mom, Joyce. The chief’s eyes locked with Y/N’s as he entered the room with big strides, giving the girl a quick, disapproving look.
“Jonathan—Jesus, what happened? Why is he wearing handcuffs?”Joyce’s voice cracked with concern as she rushed toward her son in his seat.
“Because your boy assaulted a police officer, that’s why,” the brunette officer began, arms crossed over his chest with slight sass in his tone, but Joyce was quick to respond.
“Take them off.” She sternly spoke, only to be met with silence, neither of the officers meeting her gaze. “Take them off!” She shouted through the station, firmly repeating herself.
“I am afraid I cannot do that—” The officer sighed, shaking his head, until Hopper interrupted him.
“You heard her. Take them off.” He commanded, gesturing toward Jonathan, while the third officer intervened.
“Chief, I understand everyone’s emotional here but… there’s something you need to see.” He gestured for him to follow, and Hopper glanced at Joyce, her expression growing with concern.
The officers marched back inside, their heavy footsteps reverberating through the small station, throwing the hunting supplies the group had just bought before the incident on the desk the kids were sitting at. Nancy’s face tightened in discomfort, her eyes darting to Y/N, whose mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. Jonathan’s expression was grim, his fists clenched in his cuffs as he avoided eye contact with anyone.
“What... what is all of this?” Joyce asked, her voice rising in confusion as she glanced through the pile of tools, her fingers brushing over the cold steel of the traps. Her expression twisted with concern, eyes wide with disbelief as she glanced between her son and the girls.
Hopper stood beside Joyce, his posture tense, arms crossed over his chest. “Why don’t you ask your son?” He shot back, his gaze laser-focused on Jonathan. “We found all this in his car.” “Why were you searching through my car?” Jonathan shot a defensive glare, challenging Hopper.
Hopper’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, the air between them growing heavier. “Is that really the question you should be asking right now, Byers?” 
The room fell silent, tension suffocating the atmosphere. Hopper let his words sink in before his gaze swept over the three teenagers. “I want all of you in my office. Now.”
Jonathan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, finally meeting Hopper’s eyes. “You won’t believe me,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, the weight of the truth pressing on his chest.
Hopper’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes hard. “Why don’t you give me a shot,” he replied coldly, the challenge clear in his tone, daring him to spill whatever impossible story that was brewing.
𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞
“You said blood draws this thing?” Hopper questioned, his tone thick with skepticism as he chewed on a toothpick, his eyes scanning the grainy photograph of the monster that Jonathan, Nancy, and Y/N had developed in the photo lab. 
“We don’t know, but… that’s what we think.” Jonathan glanced up at Hopper with uncertainty, while Joyce began shaking her head, stress written all over her face.
“I want to talk to you,” Joyce cut in, her voice firm. She glanced at her son, then the door. “Alone.”
Jonathan exchanged a look with Y/N and Nancy before following his mother out of Hopper’s office, leaving the two girls behind with the chief. Hopper sighed, running a hand over his face before looking at Nancy. 
“Nancy, I need to talk to Y/N as well.”
She nodded, giving Y/N a small, reassuring smile as she headed out the door, closing it softly behind her. Hopper waited until the door clicked shut before turning his full attention to Y/N. His posture was tense, one hand on his hip as he pointed at the photograph of the monster still on the desk. “This,” he began, his voice rising slightly, “This is why I didn’t want you going out and playing detective.” His disappointment was clear, his gaze locking onto Y/N, waiting for her to explain.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, hesitating. “I–I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you. That’s why I wanted to look by myself.” The girl began to explain, folding her arms as Hopper listened to her.
“The… the nightmares I’ve been having, I’ve drawn them,” she spoke after a pause, going to reach into her shoulder bag next to her, pulling out her sketchbook and flipping through the pages.
Hopper stepped toward her, examining the drawings she’d made. “This is the portal we saw, and this is what that place looked like based on what Nancy described when she was in there, with that thing,” Y/N explained, her voice shaking slightly as she watched Hopper look at the details.
“These are the nightmares you’ve been drawing…” The man connected the dots, his words trailing off. “I remember seeing one of these when we were having breakfast. How do you see this stuff, kid?” The chief was quick to question, rubbing his mustache in thought.
Y/N swallowed, feeling the weight of the question. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But the more everything happens, the worse they get. I know it’s crazy, but it's like... I’m connected to it, seeing pieces of what’s—” Y/N explained, before getting cut off by an erratic voice outside.
“Hold that thought, I’ll be right back kiddo,” Hopper sighed, placing a reassuring but heavy hand on Y/N’s shoulder, and quickly exiting the office. His footsteps echoed down the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in the dimly lit room. She strained to listen to the rising voices beyond the door, her eyes narrowing.
Through the muffled wall, Hopper’s deep voice sounded, “What the hell is going on out here?” Other voices quickly followed, more frantic and desperate.
“A psychotic child broke my son’s arm!” A woman’s voice snapped, her words filled with urgency. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She leaned forward in her chair, the anxiety bubbling up inside her as she tried to piece together what was unfolding.
“I don’t have time for this. Please, just take a statement,” Hopper sighed, his voice growing closer as he began to retreat to his office. Y/N’s head shot up, her ears now fully focused when she heard one of the officers press the boy for details.
“Can you describe what she looked like?” The officer questioned, and Y/N heard Hopper’s footsteps grow closer to his office.
“Her head was shaved with a bloody nose, and she didn’t even look like a girl. And…” The boy paused, his voice becoming quieter, as if afraid to continue, while Hopper’s footsteps halted. “She can… do things. Like—make you fly, with her mind!” 
Y/N’s eyes widened. A bloody nose—superpowers. Just like the girl that was described in the articles Hopper had been looking into.
“Was she alone?” Hopper pressed, urgency now clear in his tone, while another officer told him how crazy this all sounded.
“No,” the boy replied, barely audible now. “She’s always hanging around those losers—Mike, Dustin, and Lucas.”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Those kids are involved?
She thought back to that morning when she went to grab them for breakfast at the Wheelers, but they were acting suspicious… as if hiding something. A lightbulb went off in Y/N’s head. This girl—whoever she was—was with them. 
Those boys are absolutely terrible at keeping a secret.
────────────────────────────────────────────
worlds apart navigation previous chapter next chapter
taglist: @anqelically @cupofjoekeery @steviespookie @hailqueenconquer @just-tiredman @x-theolivia @fuckshitslover @uselessnewt @kitdjarin1
90 notes · View notes
boombox-fuckboy · 1 year ago
Note
Hey!!! You commented on my post about limetown haha which is why I’m here. You offered to give podcast recs! What are your favorites?? I’m looking for some new ones
I completely forgot I had this ask, excuse the delay. Here's a selection of 30 podcasts I enjoyed from a broad range of genres: hopefully at least one appeals.
Let me know if you're after something more specific.
Arden: (Investigative, Comedy) On the 25th of December, 2007, heiress and young actress Julie Capsom crashed her car into a tree and fled into a nearby forest clearing, leaving a trail that seemingly vanished into thin air, and a dismembered torso in the trunk. A decade later, Bea, the first reporter on the scene, and Brenda, a detective on the case, are hosting a true crime podcast about it, and neither is remotely impressed with what the other has to say. Arden is also a retelling of various Shakespeare plays.
Desperado: (Supernatural, Adventure, Horror Elements) In a modern world of gods and magic, three young people, all under the patronage of death dieties, embark on the same adventure for different reasons: for safety, for revenge, and to kill The Old Man in the Sky. Fantastic banter and killer action sequences.
The Far Meridian: (Magical Realism) An agoraphobic young woman wakes one day to discover her lighthouse home has travelled to somewhere entirely unfamilar. As this continues to happen day after day, she uses the opportunity to search for her missing brother. A really unique and charming piece of fiction.
Gastronaut: (Sci-Fi) Interstellar travel audio blog of a former food critic as he travels to an active warzone to get firsthand experience with unfamilar cuisine. ft. Disgruntled martian nobility, sinister businessmen, explosive mushrooms, forbidden snacks, rogue revolutionary artists, and the consequences of your actions.
Girl in Space: (Sci-Fi) The Girl In Space lives alone on a space station, doing science, making cheese, rewatching Jurassic Park, and tending to the plants, animals, and artificial sun entrusted to her. It's a little lonely, but not a bad life. Would be a shame if someone came along to ruin it.
The Goblet Wire: (Microfiction, Weird Fiction) A surreal microfiction with horror elements, taking the form of phone calls to an audio-based game in which the voice of the mysterious Dictator leads each player through fantastic and horrific world and story.
Hello From The Hallowoods: (Horror, Supernatural) A dramatic entity beyond your comprehension visits your nightmares to tell stories of the people (in varying degrees of human and alive) that inhabit the strange, deadly, and beautiful Hallowoods, as they find meaning and sometimes eachother.
Hi Nay: (Supernatural Horror) A year after moving to Toronto, sound designer Mari finds herself drawn into helping people around the city with various horrific supernatural encounters due to her babaylan (shaman) family background. It quickly becomes apparent that there's something much more sinister and complicated happening in the background.
Inco: (Microfiction, Sci-Fi) A perpetually exausted interstellar information trader and her peppy AI find a mysterious (read: bratty) boy floating in space and are inadventently pulled into a world political intrigue.
Inn Between: (Fantasy) Ever curious about what the D&D characters get up to at the tavern between sessions? A generally lighter-hearted (with some exceptions) with richly-written and always-growing characters. A really interesting format, too: a lot of the adventure appears in the "next time" and "last time" segments which makes it all flow really nicely. Not a tabletop podcast.
Janus Descending: (Sci-Fi, Horror, Tragedy) A xenoarcheologist and a xenopaleontologist are sent to a study a dead city on a distant world. Nobody likes what they find there. A unique format, with one set of logs presented first to last, and the other last to first. I'd recommend listening to the supercut for this one.
The Kingmaker Histories: (Steampunk, Weird Fiction, Adventure, Fantasy Elements) In the Valorian Socialist Republic 1911, on her 25th birthday, tailor's apprentice Colette experienced the worst headache of her life. As a result, she fleed from town with a human artificer and a fae chef - both now smugglers - pursued by an utterly furious flesh-crafter. I'm not sure I'm selling how good this podcast is but it's very good.
Life With Althaar: (Sci-Fi, Comedy) A human repairman moves to a space station on the edge of human territory that is perpetually on the edge of self-destruction, and ends up with a less-than-ideal last-minute roomate. Althaar is polite, friendly, deeply interested in human culture, and eager to be friends. Unfortunately he belongs to a species that sends humans into a visceral panic at a glance.
Lost Terminal: (Sci-Fi, Hopepunk) Seth is a very lonely AI living on a satellite. His crew were left stranded aboard with no hope of return, and it's been longer than he can count since then. The Earth below him has changed dramatically, and with only a few other AI down there to talk to, he's very lonely. But! He has a plan to make some new friends.
Love and Luck: (Romance, Slice-of-Life and Urban Fantasy Elements) Voice messages cataloguing two young men falling in love and opening a queer dry bar together.
Midnight Radio: (Light Supernatural, Romance) Sybil McIntyre, host of the ever-popular 1950's nightly radio hour, begins exchanging letters with an old fan who has reluctantly returned to visit Sybil's beloved town.
Midst: (Weird Fiction, Western, Sci-Fi and Fantasy Elements) The old-western planetoid islet of Midst floats, rotating steadily, in a sea of reality-warping darkness. Down in the town of Stationary Hill, things are in movement, and vistors from the light above are about to bring unanticipated change. ft a monocycle-riding monster-hunter, radio-famous airship paladins, deadly mica, the universe's peppiest cultist, good dogs, and a really strange businessman.
The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality: (Weird Fiction, Supernatural, Urban Fantasy and Horror Elements) A friendly AI tour guide leads you on a tour of the Mistholme Museum, explaining the strange and often alternatural story behind each item.
Monstrous Agonies: (Supernatural, Relationship Advice) An interpersonal advice show for supernatural entities and other people living liminally in the modern world.
Night Shift: (Urban Fantasy, Investigative) Set in a modern world with the addition of magic, which manifests in small inherited skills/traits, can warp people in horrific ways, or can be manipulated with the right science (and intense work) to induce superpowers. Sebastian Fenn is a barista at Night Shift Coffee, but since things are slow he's decided to start a podcast to talk about various mysteries, crimes and conspiracies around the city, and of course finds himself deeper in them than he'd intended.
The Pasithea Powder: (Sci-Fi, Thriller Elements? I think?) The last major interplanetary war was full of atrocities, but none more infamous then the creation of Pasithea Powder, a memory altering drug which was used to horrible effect and landed it's entire team of creators in prison. So when decorated war hero Captain Sophie Green sees one of them wandering free, worlds away from his prison, she gets in touch with a very old, estranged friend: one Dr. Jane Gonzalez, who's behind bars for the very same reason.
SCP: Find Us Alive: (Weird Fiction, Supernatural, Horror and Slice-of-Life elements) You don't need to know anything about SCP to enjoy this. A research team gets trapped in an underground research facility when the complex collapses and the building is dragged into a pocket dimension. The tear it was designed to study begins creating tiny copies of itself, generating strange entities the team needs to deal with. And as if that wasn't enough, the entire situation physically resets itself every 30 days. And yet, this is genuinely also an office comedy.
Second Star to the Left: (Sci-Fi) Audio logs of a scout sent to explore and establish early infastructure new world, and the communications with the minder in charge of keeping her alive.
Seen and Not Heard: (Slice-of-Life, Drama) Seen and Not Heard follows Bet, who's still adjusting to life a year after a bout of severe illness, and the resulting hearing loss it caused. It's about the ways we make connection, and food, and art, and different kinds of grief.
The Silt Verses: (Horror) In a modern world where gods are abundant, frequently both commercialised and restricted, two devotees of an outlawed river god go on a pilgrimage.
SINKHOLE: (Sci-Fi, Weird Fiction) Forum posts from a data restoration community in a near future where the human brain is its own computer and one city hosts a massive void.
Starfall: (Fantasy) Seeking to escape her mysterious past and find some purpose, a young swordswoman joins a travelling actor's troupe. This new life is unfamilar and sometimes stressful, but she's taken under the wing of stagehand Fel, who's determined to help her feel welcome as she experiences the figurative and literal magic of the theatre for the first time.
The Tower: (Weird Fiction) A low-key, meditative podcasy about a young woman who decides to climb a seemingly endless tower. Gorgeous sound design.
The Vesta Clinic: (Sci-Fi) New GP Dr. Fae Underwood, with the expert transcription skills of resident AI Sec, writes up patient reports on human and alien patients of The Vesta Clinic, a medical clinic on the edge of human space. Really comfy and creative.
Victoriocity: (Steampunk, Mystery) Set in the steam-powered Victorian city of Even Greater London, an aspiring journalist and a tired detective find themselves working together to solve a strange murder. I say Victorian but as queen Victoria is now an extensive grandiocity of cyborg components following seven only-kind-of-successful assassinations, you may need to adjust expectations a little.
408 notes · View notes
ladythornofrivia · 1 year ago
Text
MY SCAVENGER || Kylo Ren!Aemond x Rey!Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: i’ve been thinking about what one-shot I should do next. Though I’m currently writing Saltburn fanfic, I love Star Wars. Even Reylo! Have fun reading! (Some dialogue in the beginning doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to the movie.)
warnings: interrogation, torture kink, lust at first sight, breeding kink, p in v sex, fight scene, violence, aemond has issues, loss of virginity, aemond is a d*ck, kink size, obsessive aemond, dom/sub, aemond not only uses the power of force on reader but also with his d*ck. Bl*wjob, degradation kink, creampie
pair: aemond x reader
Somewhere in the galaxy far away, the leader of the First Order, Aemond Targaryen, was hunting for the map that’ll lead him to Daemon Targaryen, the last Jedi ever existed. Or so he believed.
While Aemond knew the legends of his uncle and his journey as a Jedi warrior, but those who commanded under Aemond’s order and leadership, not a soul in a galaxy believed Daemon ever existed, not in the history textbooks or screens. The stormtroopers only meant to serve their skilled leader.
As young as he was, Aemond Targaryen is known for his cold and calculating nature. He kept his helmet on, under any circumstances, and wields a red lightsaber. Tall and lethal, no one really knew what he looked like—it left to the imagination far and wide, leading his troops picturing of his appearance. Aemond wouldn’t dare make his troops or his other commanding officers enter his private quarters.
In the galaxy, everyone feared him.
Until you.
A nobody living in the stories of galaxy.
Hunting for scraps and leftovers for the sake of small profit to keep on living. Finding rare scraps in Jakku, was meddlesome. A nightmare. Filled in stacks of desert sand and humid waves lingered and pierced your skin.
Deserted land has been your home. And in your home, inside the AT-AT Walker, after you scratch another tally mark on the metallic wall, you cooked a loaf of bread and fried vegetables and scraps of thin meat. You wondered when your life will begin anew with reborn purpose. A nobody, in the galactic space, hoped your family would return.
You hoped that your life isn’t meaningless.
Tumblr media
Jakku has been destroyed; in chaos, you’re forced to leave—of taking refuge, but more companions in your journey agreed that Jakku is nothing but a junkyard, and there you met a legendary shooter and a Wookie Warrior. But the plans failed.
For Aemond Targaryen spotted the map to Daemon Tarygaryen’s location. But the expectant acquirance wasn’t the astromech, droid BB8, rather, something far more interesting.
Aemond captured you—after minutes of chase and defense in the thickened forest. “Bring the girl,” he ordered, as your body fell to unconsciousness by the force, as he carried you and fled away with his ship, brought you to the First Order base, entrapped in metal straps as soon as you woke up.
Luminous lights and thick air provoked your tightened lungs to breath and your skin had broken a perspiration.
The doors opened, unveiling a tall, dark figure between the gaps of archway. Stomping on his shoes echoed until became nothing.
“Where are the others?” you asked, rasping, eyes hazed.
“You mean the murderers, traitors and thieves and cravens you call friends,” he said, taunting, his voice was nearly a merry. “You’ll be in such a relief that I have no clue to where they are.”
The reflection of his mask stared back at you. “You still want to murder me—challenge me,” he assumed.
“Well, that’s what happens if you’ve been chased and captured by the monstrous creature in a mask,” you snapped, low voice laced with venom.
His mask has taken off, long silk strands of silver-blond hair flowed over his chest, as the violet eye and the substitution of his sapphire gleamed at you. For a second, you never thought that your captor is skilled fighter, but it’s also young—young and handsome. His milky skin aglow, a good correlation to his deep stone wedged on the empty socket of his amputated eye, lined with scar that is faded. Outline of his jaw sharpened, shadowed as he strode closer to you.
Thundered, his mask dropped at a nearby stand, the grey sand flew and dissipated as his lithe frame inched closer.
“The droid,” he said, almost frantic. “Tell me about the droid. I know the droid has the map to Daemon Targaryen. Ever heard of him?”
Looking at his eye, you shook your head, “Never heard of him,” you answered, the illuminated lights flashed over your eyelids each time you blinked.
Aemond inched his face closer. “Your heart beat is pounding awfully loud.”
“Must be the heat,” you retorted.
He chuckled. “What a clever liar you are. But not clever enough. Now, tell me about the droid.”
“He’s a BB Unit with a Selenium Drive with a Thermal Hyperscan Vindicator.”
“It’s carrying a navigational chart, which the droid possesses the map.” His head tilted. “You, a scavenger, living on Jakku—a deserted planet with nothing to offer.” His face leaned closer. “You know I can take what I want.”
You swallowed, eyes flicking at his smooth pink-colored lips.
“My,” he said, licking his lower lip. “It appears you have some sort of interest in me, showed no signs of fear.”
You looked away, face reddened from the strict heat in the room and the huskiness in his voice. His hand outreached to your side temple, though no contact. You felt the Force strengthened and battled against the mobility of your system.
“You’re lonely. Alone and desperate. Waiting for someone to show up and rescue you. Waiting for someone to lead you out from the land, from the galaxy and into the great land with trees and life. I can sense the anger…not only that…something far more…delicate…in the matter based on your compromising position,” he cooed.
You resisted, of course, but your energy drained quicker.
His body leaned back, taking a good look of your exasperated form. “Tell you what, I’ll release you, but only if you can give something to me, in one condition.”
You (e/c) locked onto his. “And what would that be?”
Only the corners of Aemond’s lips curled.
Tumblr media
“Please, no,” you begged, wrists tied up behind your back while Aemond was sitting on a spare chair, his thick and lithe legs spread wide while you’re in between them, knees already hurting.
“Shhh, trust me, my little scavenger,” he cooed again, his gloved hand flattened behind your head and dragged it downward. “So, are you going to be my good woman, or do I have show you the force again?”
Gulping, you succumbed at his voice. Maybe another way of his “force”.
“Good woman,” he praised, and unzipped his black trousers, his long and thick cock sprung out it nearly hit your cheek below the eye. “Sorry, darling, my cock couldn’t help but to view at the sight of you,” he said, smirking, tugging your locks, hauling you closer to his engorged tip, leaking. Your lips opened, taken his length in, choking. It felt as if your eating a whole uncut rod—or a thicker lightsaber. “All trapped underneath me, my power. The force within can’t abide much later.”
Gagging proceeded in your throat, but you took his length in precarious and fervent care.
“That’s it,” he groaned, his other hand flicked, the force brought your head down further to the end of his swollen cock, his large balls. “Argh! That’s…it.”
It was impressive for him to not only deal with a woman with capable resistance, but also has a coy nature she has been hiding—a tease.
The force no longer hostage you; your mouth watered as you took his cock well, swallowing the taste of his flesh, his warm flesh. Oh, how delightful. You never dealt a Jedi or a commander to have desirable or naughty urges. But you figured that even the force cannot contain beastly urges of a man. Aemond was one. But, has he ever been a woman before you? Jealousy pitted down on your heated belly, flickering.
It felt so wrong, but, your heart was aching for him, despite “meeting” under the matters of selfish urgency and a brink of death.
Aemond sighed, his silver-blond locks befallen on his broad and lean backside, his throat bobbed, heaving and sighing at your warm and slick mouth.
“Your thoughts are troubling you again,” he said. “No, I have never been with a woman.”
You doubted. Tortured at the thought of a previous woman, a torture where a previous woman might do better than you—an inexperienced scavenger.
“I never lie,” he said. His index finger flicked, and the hair ties on your head casted, your longish locks flowed, nesrly covering up your breast. “In fact, I never did.”
Semen spurted in your slippery mouth.
“Take it all in, darling,” he encouraged, hearing your throat quenched its thirst, smothered in his slick and spurt of his thick semen.
Tumblr media
The room became hotter as Aemond strapped your wrists above your head onto the prison bed.
“Stay still, woman,” he grunted, his lips inched downward to yours, seeing if the pace of his breath matched with yours.
Your chest steadied from a grasping breath you tried to behold with gentleness. Aemond sensed it, too.
“You’re steady…Good.” And plunged his suppled lips to yours, caging your soft ragged breaths, playing your tongue with his, heavy sighs played out in the air, his palm snuck in your cloth, smooth fingertips tracing the lines of your stomach, the soft steep of ribcage.
“With you under my protection, nothing can go wrong, little scavenger,” he said, his tucked hand withdrew, and flicked a sharp movement, and your clothes shred and tossed across the room under his Force.
Gasping, Aemond silenced your lips again under a deep passion. A sheer underwear tucked your maidenhood. Frustrated, Aemond snatched and ripped in one swoop, his cock engorged twice, hardened, his throat dried and croaked at the sight of your flawless beauty, picturing the lines of stretch marks on your lower belly from the swollen pregnancy. Aemond thought beforehand that if the First Order has been under siege, in one way to promote a difficult position that couldn’t diffuse, he needed an heir, an heir of a stronger, faster and more calculating version of himself.
“Hold on, scavenger, I’m sure this will be painful for you, but you’ll grow to love the feeling of my cock, grinding inside your walls. How do you feel now, little woman? Are you willing to give an heir for me?”
You gasped. There was so much life ahead of you. Unsure of his words, you were sure he’s crazy to know that one, obtaining pregnancy is scandalous—especially if a father is a notorious leader. He could be killed, and could be tortured or his enemies will use you and the child to proceed their victory to reach Aemond.
Gulping and vibrating under him, you uttered. “Why me?”
Your heart is torn in half. What if Aemond is only using you as a spare time hobby? What if he’ll soon find a lover who’s more beautiful and mature and not childlike like you, and for you to be thrown in the dark and be forgotten? Numerous possibilities rushing in your mind—and halted—when Aemond said, “I won’t betray you. Betraying is the enemy’s job.”
“But you’re the enemy,” you remarked.
“In this room, you’ll only see the real me, as the real Aemond, a beast hidden in a skin of a man,” he murmured. “I must have you,” he grunted, pushing his cock into your constricted folds, pumping and sliding in a tremendous pace that the bed rocked.
Moans ascended in the roofs, Aemond’s quiet grunts entered through your ears. Your legs wrapped around his slender waist, bobbing as his powerful thrusts electrified your drenched walls.
Your eyes lulled, but Aemond grasped your face and aligned it to his, violet eye narrowed. “Look at me as I fuck you good—heavy and fast. Your belly will soon swell with a future Jedi, a more powerful warrior than any good-for-nothing troops in the galaxy.”
His legs ached as his one hand untied the knot on your wrist and hauled your body up for you to snuggle him, bed rocking continuously as your voice rasped, airily sighing with your eyes closed, almost seeing pink stars swirling in your closed lids, your mouth sucked Aemond’s neck, offered a low hiss through his teeth.
“That’s it, my good angel,” Aemond purred,the flat of his large hands enveloped and motioned against your naked back. The heat in the room faded, the coldness bumped into your bare flesh; the air condition is activated, encouraged your warm bodies to go at full speed.
“Aemond,” you moaned, head threw back.
Aemond’s pace became sloppy, staggered at you calling his name. “Say it again, my darling scavenger. Say my name.”
“Aemond…Aemond,” your hips gyrated, in pleasurable heat.
His lips curved. “I knew you would love it eventually.”
“Need you to come…inside me..in me…on me…in my mouth or face. Fuck me good,” you begged, corner of your lips salivating, tongue buds prickling, in hopes to taste his cock again.
But you missed the part where Aemond’s eye gleamed in darkened shade, in secret thrill.
Grabbing your hips, nails deepened and bruised your flesh and bones as his thrusts shoved harder, sending your voice wailing through the roof. You were sure that the Stormtroopers would stop and listen over your voice. Aemond couldn’t care less; he loved seeing you like this.
“Almost there, my scavenger,” he groaned, kissing your cheek, last few rounds set in; your arms slightly flailed yet gripped around his neck, face nuzzled onto his lean neck as he blasted hot white liquid inside you.
Kissing on several spots on your face, Aemond tugged your body down with him, with your side profile pressed against his chest, his hand rested on your back head while the other brushed your back.
“The child will soon grow into you,” he reminded.
“What about the droid?” you asked, puzzled.
Aemond scoffed. “Forget about that damn droid. It is you who I am enamored to, who I am now devoted to.”
“Is this the power of force?”
“No, this is my love yearning for someone—for you, my sweet,” he said. “The force is neither the army nor the galaxy. The force is within us, and only us can gather. The force can sometimes break us.”
“You didn’t break me,” you noted, admiring his sapphire eye.
Aemond smiled. “No, but you tamed the force within me.”
And you both shared a tender kiss under dimmed light.
Taglist: @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @kukulyarva @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @herathedreamer @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @velunis @nananeptune @domithebomi @moonseye @valeskafics @faesspace @rxixo31 @tm-starr @xinthia19 @popsycles @naiaaramena @aleemendoza2425-blog @letmehavemyfictionalmen @aracelipf @ammo23 @blackswxnn @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @wolfdressedinlace @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @runekisses @jmii722 @colored-tr-panels @evergreen9083 @foggypeacestarlight @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @liannafae
257 notes · View notes
5ilent5cience · 8 months ago
Text
MORE AUS MORE AUS MORE AUS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Starting with the Mad dogs !
--------
Bold - Protagonist
--------
♪NYC: Crime No. 404 - It is a timeline-Au which is taken to 18th-19th century where April is the beginner detective who investigates the crime scenes along with her best sidekick, Sunita. But The four suspicious mutant turtles came with different mask colors, and with different mafia-style outfits but as the crime scenes goes on and on, April got this.
♪Tic Tac Toe - It is a Weirdcore/Dreamcore/Horrorcore-based Au where Leo(Who is a toddler) with prosthetic legs lived in peaceful yet nostalgically city, his closest ally which is his little brother who is shaped of a top toy and a clowncore, Mikey. But his goal is to Reunite with his long-lost twin brother, Donnie, who was vanished long ago since birth and lived in living nightmares.
♪Lilac in Wonderland (Originally going to be named as "Lilac in Lavenderland") - It is a parody-au of "Alice in Wonderland" featuring Donnie(aka "Lilac", as called by everyone in wonderland) has discover his new forever home which is a wonderland, filled with strange poppies and other flowers and peculiar adventure.
♪Lost Mist - It is a Horror yet depressing and Autophobia(fear of being alone) Au where Donnie woke up from the coma in the mid of Zombie apocalypse era which is endless and he was the only one survivor, but unfortunately, He was experiencing with brain damage which is amnesia as he doesn't remember everything and anything to protect himself except his own family and friends. But the only voice that would make Donnie safe and Secure is his eldest brother's voice waving around the air, guiding him to find shelter with unknown remain people who found it first.
♪Little Purple Purely Hood - It is a Fairytale-based au which is a reference to "The Little Red riding hood" but instead Donnie(or rather being called "Purple") was the first turtle in purple cloak(hence to it's title) travels alone in the forest, hunting for food since the large wolf once destroyed his house and killed his family, but except his twin brother Leo who was separated from him during the incident from long ago, As Leo was experiencing with eye problem(Which is Crossed-eye). As there were Three wolves who is following Donnie all along, but They seem to be weird strangers but turns out to be "acting like a bodyguard".
103 notes · View notes
ratgrinders · 8 months ago
Note
I can't get over how not a single person has voted for Ivy as their favorite rger; it's very funny, but also a LITTLE sad cause I personally would love to know more about her, as right now we have. Nothing. Her being Fabian's foil could imply that she has some kind of rich family, but absent parents, but she didn't seem to show any sign of being posh like Fabian is/was, she was just... mean. Same goes for Mary Ann in terms of knowing nothing about her, especially not how she contrasts to Gorgug. I really hope we get more information! Do you have any guesses?
Yes it's so funny 😭😭😭😭but also understandable unfortunately lmaooo. She's the Rat Grinder we objectively know the LEAST about, she's had maybe like what, one and a half scenes? We know she's besties with Oisin, and that type of dynamic within the larger group of the Rat Grinders is VERY interesting to me, but other than that??? Nothing. I DO hope we learn more though ghfsfks just because right now there's not a lot to dig into!
As for the second part of your question, oh god WILD speculation time only tenuously based in canon under the cut lets gooooo:
I think the basis for the Rat Grinders status as the Bad Kids' foils is that they have what the Bad Kids want, but have superficial beef with the Bad Kids based on the version of them they have in their head. So you got Kipperlilly who wants Riz's tragic backstory despite her allegedly normal and whole family at home. Oisin is rich thanks to his family while Adaine struggles with money thanks to hers, and maybe seems to have beef with the Elven Oracle as that's what led to Kalvaxus' defeat. Ruben has the song of the summer just as Fig is in the middle of an artist's block. Etc, etc.
So going off of that, what does Fabian want more than anything else this season? To not be lonely. I think it'd make sense then if Ivy actually had a really present, loving(?) family who nonetheless still turned out kind of mean. I think she has no problem living up to her family's expectations, no matter what they are. As for the family itself, well the Gloom Stalker subclass is "at home in the darkest places i.e. in primeval forests". And what's the nearest dark forest with a population of wood elves? Sylvaire, formerly the Forest of the Nightmare King. Specifically Arborly, since that's the town near there that protects the entrance to the forest. I think Ivy is possibly how the Rat Grinders got the Nightmare King connection in the whole reviving a dead god thing. Of course, this is all WILD speculation.
As for Mary Ann, what does Gorgug want? This is a bit less clear as his arc developed over the course of the season, but I'd say he wants a stronger connection to his artificing (and by proxy, his gnomish parents), he wants a balance between that and barbarian and a healthy relationship to his rage, and I think part of what ticks him off so much about Mary Ann is just how uncaring she seems, that she can seem so unengaged about things and still be such a great barbarian while he has to CONSTANTLY balance and filter his emotions and focus to succeed in his two classes. So I think it's possible Mary Ann was also adopted by a different species, but this time by barbarians so there was never any struggle on her part to relate to the classes of her parents. Her parents just Got rage immediately, she grew up with an innate understanding of it and is able to perfectly modulate it despite seeming so monotone outside it. And I think it'd be very funny if specifically Mary Ann, and only Mary Ann, has no outward beef with the Bad Kids and is actually kind of ok with Gorgug lmao.
I can't WAIT for all of this to get Jossed by the end of the season lmaoooooooooooo.
38 notes · View notes
brujahinaskirt · 9 months ago
Text
30 kcd2 trailer reveal little things / reactions:
Loving the increased Istvan / Henry parallelism
Loving the return of the red PTSD nightmares and so pleased WH isn't watering the game down, keeping up the trauma narrative realism, etc. I expected no less but still delighted by it. I love games that allow characters (esp male characters) to feel things, genuinely, and writing that treats the emotional invitation of its own storytelling with respect.
Good lord, the symbolism returns--as it must in a proper medieval game--but I shan't look too deep yet.
SKALITZ FLASHBACKS. HENRY'S PARENTS' WEDDING PREQUEL CONTENT? W H A T. I never thought we would get to go back; I am so thrilled to learn more about that time. I would have gladly gobbled up a Martin prequel. TELL ME HER FUCKING NAME, WARHORSE, YOU BASTARDS.
where is radzig
Mystery possible new love interest option? Or did Lady Stephanie visit the face sculptor?
And Theresa... where?
Mother of god, the forests and animals look incredible. I'm going insane. Let me pet things please.
How many times can Hans eat royal shit and live in one livestream? Let's find out. One, two, three...
The crime and punishment mechanics are definitely more complex at a glance. This is a good thing but I wonder how much was cutscene flavor and how much will really have an affect on the gameplay/reputation/etc.
I'm extremely afraid for Hans's survival. Not because of his constant trailer beefing (and he really took every opportunity to wipe out) but because of that shot with him doing the big dramatic eagle wing spread on horseback. You can't just do that and not expect to be punished by the narrative, bro.
MUTT IS BACK MUTT IS BACK MUTT IS BACK
is that pebbles? MUTT IS BACK please be pebbles
Henry's new hair is awful and I will be changing it two seconds in.
In general, Henry looks way more mature/stressed. Hard to say if there was a timeskip and Henry is now actually more mature or if the increased graphics allow him to look more like his voice actor, who is older than Henry. Either way I will be content. Will not catch me changing my son's precious face!!!
CROSSBOWS, HAND CANNONS
Istvan is pure fire, holy shit, cannot wait for this performance. Erik looks like a soggy newspaper. What happened king?
radzig? hello? anyone hear from this guy? typical for him to ghost
FIVE HOURS OF CUTSCENES???? YOU KNOW YOUR TARGET AUDIENCE. IT IS ME. I LOVE TO WATCH THINGS
Theresa's gonna be in it though, right? They wouldn't do us like that right?
Really excited to see them taking a page from RDR2 and incorporating a temperament-based reply system for non-dialogue initiating NPCs. I really look forward to all the added sandbox immersion enhancements from the first game, and I hope women are incorporated in a broader work spectrum for better historical accuracy.
WAS THAT GODWIN?
Is Hans going to teach Henry how to swim for real, as in a gameplay-altering swim mechanic, or is the topless on the riverbank scene just throwing a meaty bone to the hansry shippers (i am gnawing, i am growling when you try to take it away before i choke myself with it)
I love hearing devs and actors talk intelligently about the writing and character development arcs. Obviously they thought about it deeply in KCD1, but it's nice to see devs of an "action" game treating its narrative seriously, as artwork. Regardless of how the fandom idiots interact with it.
Hans singing a facetious little ballad for Henry (presuming it makes it into the game and isn't just trailer fodder) regenerated my cells. He DID promise in KCD1 (if you lose the tourney after agreeing to be his champion) that one day people would sing ballads in Henry's honor. Probably he did not intend for them to include the word "fuck" at the time.
This is going to be the grown up bromance we deserved in kcd1. Honestly it's so validating to see the second game recentering on that relationship and deliberately using it as the primary storytelling vehicle. KCD1 was pretty imbalanced in favor of Hans content, but it would have been better served by the game storyline fully leaning into the importance of that relationship, rather than trying to juggle it as a side-arc with several other arcs (and thereby creating an imbalance). KCD2 looks like it's built around the backbone of Henry and Hans's friendship and how it has profoundly changed them both/propelled their arcs in somewhat different directions.
On that point, Henry seems to have completely adopted Rattay colors now, but it's possible that's due to him operating as Hans's page (squire?) where we left them in KCD1. WHERE IS RADZIG
Calling Henry an orphan is a LITTLE generous given he was a whole ass adult man when his parents were killed, don't you think.
Calling Henry a lover is VERY VERY GENEROUS
I'm hyped.
51 notes · View notes
dumpsterfire-daydreams · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
No warnings today. Just a classic "Where are they now" epilogue to end on a peaceful note ♥️
Tumblr media
Attention, passengers. This is your conductor speaking. We have pulled into the station from Ending 1. As we set off for Ending 2 of this story, please be aware of the following:
1. Threesome Town train tickets are non-transferrable.
2. Please take only the seat that corresponds with the seat number listed on your ticket.
3. Please keep your ticket on your person at all times.
Thank you for riding with Threesome Town Transportation. Enjoy your trip to Ending 2~
Tumblr media
Reader POV:
(3 Years Later)
Fresh.
Clean.
Refreshing.
Those were the terms that came to mind as you tried to nail down the way the cooling breeze felt on your skin. The grass was luscious and soft against your skin. It felt like mother nature had carved out this perfect piece of paradise just for you. And as you laid there, eyes closed in the shade of a large tree, you never wanted to leave. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolled. Its cheerful ringing was pleasant, only adding to the serenity of the scene.
Sitting up, you opened your eyes to drink in the beautiful sights and sounds. Rolling emerald hills, beautiful little houses that dotted across the countryside, small children squealing as they chased each other through a nearby park. It was the same thing you saw every day. But even after three years, it never failed to quiet your mind.
Behind you, you could hear the sound of heavy footfalls approaching your safe haven. There was a brief crunch with each step as they trekked across the loose gravel of the walking trail. There was plenty of grass on either side of it. And if your company had desired a quieter approach, they could have easily done so. But you knew the extra noise was deliberate.
“Mind if I join you, Maus?”
You turned at the sound of König’s voice, already beginning to smile. “I’d love that.”
König sank down on the grass beside you, depositing a picnic basket brimming with delicious-looking snacks. As he set about unpacking it and filling a small plate with food he thought you’d enjoy, you were reminded just how lucky you were to have him in your life. The reminders were frequent, but they always touched your heart the same way.
He’d gone above and beyond to support you through recovery. It hadn’t been easy either, especially at the start. There were countless nights when you woke up screaming in terror, your nightmares convincing you Ghost still had you trapped in his hideout. Action movies you used to enjoy suddenly made you tense as unpleasant memories resurfaced without warning. And you quickly lost count of the number of times you’d screamed bloody murder in response to a store assistant or friendly stranger tapping you on the shoulder from behind. Even the most pleasant and intimate moments with König had been tainted. And though you assured him you wanted it and he was even more gentle than before, the sensation of him thrusting inside you sent scenes of the forest flickering through your mind. Memories that felt all too real.
But König stayed by your side through it all, never once complaining. His priority was your recovery and safety. Beyond that, nothing else mattered to him. So he consistently took extra care with you as you slowly came back to yourself. Some of the habits stuck with him though. Even the way he had come to join you under the tree just then was a remnant of his empathetic gestures. Ever since the two of you had left his former military base, he always made his presence well known if he ever had to approach you from behind. König didn’t want to startle you or cause any unwarranted panic if he could help it.
A crucial part of his efforts had been finally removing his hood. He’d debated it at first, worried that introducing such a big change would do more harm than help. You knew him by his hood, not by his face. Without it, you might recognize his eyes. But when trauma was in full effect, he feared you wouldn’t recognize him at all without it - instead seeing him as a stranger or a threat. But in the end, you both decided that removing it when the two of you were alone was probably the wisest choice. Its concept and purpose was a tad too similar to that of Ghost’s mask. And he didn’t want anything about him to ever remind you of the disgraced lieutenant.
He beamed at you as he handed you your plate. It contained a small heap of Kaiserschmarrn topped with a dollop of applesauce, a golden Krapfen, and a generous slice of Sachertorte. And every bit of it made your mouth water.
“All of this looks so good!” You giggled, excitedly digging into the treats. “You keep feeding me like this and we might never go back to the States."
“I would have no complaints,” König smiled, popping a piece of the shredded pancake into his mouth. “I was not exaggerating when I said Austria is paradise. I’m just happy to share it with you.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” you shook your head. “If I recall correctly, I’ve been told Scotland is where the real beauty is."
“Careful,” he laughed with you. “Legend says that if you say Scotland three times, Soap will appear.”
As you finished off the Sachertorte, savoring the rich chocolate flavor, König lazily stretched before reclining beside you with a pleasant sigh. He looked like a giant house cat, basking in the flecks of sunlight that danced over his peaceful face. A moment later, you joined him. And with your head against his heart and his arm draped across your back, all was right in the world.
“Ich liebe dich,” he sighed, kissing the top of your head.
“I know,” you smiled, cuddling closer. “I love you too, König. Always.”
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for reading this story. Fr, every reader makes writing so worth it and I literally couldn't do it without you ♥️
Drop me a comment or dm and let me know your thoughts! I live off of feedback lol
12 notes · View notes
weirdestbooks · 4 months ago
Text
Countryhumans Oneshots
The United States of Idiots:
50 Times the States Did Something Super Dumb and Funny. And America's Reaction to His Kids Being Crackheads.
Sleepy Twin:
Delaware is tired and decides to take a nap on his twin New York.
Coffee:
In America’s household, there is one rule. Don’t touch the Coffee Trio’s coffee.
Bonding:
Delaware tries to bond with one of the newest territories, Hawaii.
Bonus Scene From Chapter 5 of Secrecy and Deception:
"A British man talking about how the Declaration of Independence was important and great. He almost laughed but was not able to hold back giggles. Dad also looked incredibly amused by that. Britain would probably be getting a call from Dad laughing about this." -Missouri, Secrecy and Deception
Americanized:
Oklahoma used to be the Indian Territory. Now, he's an American State that wants nothing to do with them. What happened to cause this? Based on @walkingtalkingcountries' headcanons!
Languages:
America is very tired and forgets English.
A Reckoning With Oneself:
Ireland is a very catholic nation and over a thousand years old. Therefore, being queer and accepting queerness is hard for him.
The Living Ghost of a Long Dead Brother:
Sweden meets her long-dead half-brother.
Sammy and Sammy Junior:
Polynesia is a very close family. They visit each other and hang out often. It's a shame when one of those meetings goes a bit sour due to an accident.
America and the Struggles of Having a Human Face:
America has body dysmorphia. It's not something he's handled well.
The Frozen State:
Lake Superior. Beautiful, but deadly. Michigan learned that the hard way.
Camping is Deadly:
Florida is a great brother and friend. He's just not the best person to go camping with.
Dog Therapy:
Alaska gives his nephew therapy with the help of his dogs.
Concerned Family:
New Zealand was abused. He doesn’t think so. His family is concerned.
Arson:
California likes fire. They also hate their brother.
Human Perceptions:
Sometimes New Jersey just wants to pretend to be human. That does make things awkward when his human friends start talking about his family though.
A Dead Man's Flag:
Delaware was the reincarnation of the son of Forest Finns. Due to his reincarnation-caused amnesia, he has very limited memories of the man he calls isä. But a gift from his uncle might spark a new memory to return. More importantly, he had a physical trace of his father.
Fuck Tourists:
Hawaii hates tourists. America gets her a shirt.
Fear:
Illinois is haunted by the threats of the mob, not that his roommate is aware. That won’t stop Michigan from comforting him as the nightmares awaken him again and again.
United States of Ameridad:
America is a dad, and he loves helping and caring for each and every one of his kids.
Hawaii and the Celtic Nations:
Hawaii visits the Celtic Nations, oblivious to their family ties.
The Sign:
Germany has a funny sign. So does his father.
Finland's Wings:
Finland gets a new flag. In doing so, he also gets a pair of wings.
The Thoughts of an Empire:
Russian Empire was an awful person. He didn’t think of his son as a son. Just as a tool.
Southern Neighbors:
Texas has a problem
impermanently:
An angry man shoots and kills New York. It’s the first time a state dies.
The Burn Recovery:
Alaska is hurt badly. Luckily, he always has his dad to help him.
Nieuw York:
New Netherlands was murdered a long time ago. It’s really unfortunate who found her body.
The Parental Sibling:
Delaware is sick. Luckily he has a big brother/father figure who can look after him
What's the Worst Way to Punish an Introvert?:
Sometimes child abuse isn't as apparent as it seemed. Take this case of Finland and the Russian Empire.
America and his Cat:
Just a little America drabble.
Tulips: [Non-canon]
Canada is picking up his boyfriend from the airport so they can spend a week together. (Not canon to my countryhumans universe, this is a requested oneshot)
The Fire Pokémon Club:
Five countries have the ability to create fire. So why not make a club?
India Gets Revenge:
India does not like the curry that exists in England. She really shouldn't.
The Fires of Hatred and Passion Are Much the Same:
France and Britain are somewhat enemies. However as time goes on, they become fonder and fonder of each other.
An Old Friendship:
Morocco was the first country to recognize America's independence. The two countries have been firm friends ever since.
The Outlier of Oceania:
Madagascar is not Polynesian, but her sister, French Polynesia, seems determined to drag her to Polynesian family reunions anyway.
The Boston Christmas Tree:
On the hundredth anniversary of the Halifax Explosion, Massachusetts and Nova Scotia meet again in Boston.
ASEAN Nonsense:
A typical ASEAN meeting can be very exhausting for it's namesake.
The Funky Gender of the Northern Carolina:
North Carolina has a strange relationship with her gender.
The Place of Origin:
North Carolina is the home of her father's birthplace. They talk about that.
Alba agus A Mac:
Scotland adores his son, the personification of the Orcadians.
York and Jay:
New York and New Jersey have a sibling rivalry. Sometimes, it feels too real for New Jersey.
Meeting Mississippi:
The time has come for the US states to meet their newest sister, Mississippi.
When the Father Had Power [Non-Canon]:
When America goes back in time, he confronts the man who raised him.
The Dragon's (Grand)Son:
A talk with Wales ends up with Britain gaining dragon traits. They learn to adjust.
A Drowned Out Voice:
The District of Columbia had always been different from her siblings. That difference always made her feel so alone.
Sammy's Crush:
American Samoa has been crushing on Fauna for months. Will he finally have the courage to ask them out?
11 notes · View notes
stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 10 months ago
Text
CHAPTER 2: THE WEIRDO ON MAPLE STREET
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.
a/n: I accidentally deleted the original post. :( But we move! Here we have (again) another Eddie and Diana moment. Slow Burns FTW. What do you guys think about the Uptown/Downtown scene? Foreshadowing anyone?
Word Count: 3633
Masterlist
PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V
CORNWALLIS AND KERLEY 
When I told Barb I was going to walk home, I really didn’t think about how far the walk would be, especially in the cold. I tuck my chin beneath my coat bracing myself against the wind. I have been walking through the neighbourhood for what feels like an hour but is probably only 20 minutes, based on the fact I passed Barb’s car not too long ago. The neighbourhood is quiet, apart from the wind rustling through the trees in the surrounding forests. I speed walk pass the large, extravagant houses with my hands bunched into tights fists inside my pockets. 
Tonight was a nightmare. I still can’t believe the way Nancy was acting in front of Steve and his friends. In front of me and Barb…to blatantly dismiss us like we were servants done with our nightly duties is so…I don’t have the words. To top it off, Barb still stayed behind to make sure Nancy doesn’t do anything stupid, meanwhile I’m walking all the way home in the middle of the night, at god knows what time. Will is still missing and whatever is out that may have taken him— A sudden gust sends a flurry of leaves spiraling upwards off the ground. I flinch, tripping over my foot. 
This is so stupid, Diana.
I push my legs to walk faster, nearing Benny’s Burgers. There are no police officers lingering around the premises anymore, but the diner is still closed. I slow down, lingering in front of the building wishing I could use the phone to call my parents to pick me up. It would take hours for me to walk back uptown. I take a deep breath and count down from five to calm myself down. I was stranded. Frustrated tears brim my eyes. I should’ve been home or actually at the assembly on the field for Will. I wipe my tears with my cold hands and continue to walk. 
Maybe this was karma for lying. 
Ten minutes later I am approaching the intersection of Cornwallis and Kerley. My ears perk up as I hear a low rumbling sound in front of me. A jolt ripples through me. I see a large van driving and I squint, covering my eyes at the headlights. The van stops at the stop sign before driving down the street behind me. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and continue to walk. After a few minutes I hear the same low rumbling behind me. I turn my head and realize it’s the same van that passed me not too long ago. 
A tight knot forms in my stomach, but I push it down and walk faster. The van lights grow bigger and bigger on the pavement as it draws closer. I want to run but I would be foolish to think I can out run a moving vehicle. And where would I go to hide? There are no houses between here and the train tracks. I bite my lower lip hard to stop my chin from trembling. I hear the van drive up until its beside me. I pretend not to notice and continue walking straight. Maybe if I pay this person no mind, they’ll leave me alone. The lights turn off and I hear the window roll down. 
“Diana?” A voice says from inside the van. 
I let out a high-pitched scream and quickly cover my mouth. So much was happening in town, I didn’t want to add to it. My heart is beating so fast in my chest and so loud in my ears, I feel like I might pass out. 
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” the person giggles. Giggles! “It’s me, Eddie.” Eddie? 
I press a trembling hand to my chest as if that would do anything to slow my racing heart. Bracing myself, I take a cautious step towards the van. I peer through the open window. Sure enough, it’s Eddie, from Hawkins High. The boy I bumped into in the hallway yesterday. 
“Oh, h-hi, Eddie.” I sniff, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“What are you doing out here?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. 
“I was on my way home.” 
“Home? You live around here?” 
“N-No,” I stutter. “I live on Dearborn and Maple.” 
“Are you walking to your car?” 
“I-I don’t have a car.” 
“So, you were—” Eddie stops. He licks his lower lip and rubs his chin. “You were going to walk all the way to Dearborn and Maple from here?” 
I shrug my shoulders, crossing my arms above my chest. “It’s not that bad.” It’s actually much worse. 
“Not that bad?” He looks at me like I’ve grown another head. I notice by his tone he seems…upset. “Do you know what time it is?” 
I pout shaking my head, feeling like I’m being scolded. I never checked the time when I left Steve’s house. It must’ve been after 10pm now. Eddie looks at me, dark brown eyes roaming up and down and side to side. If my cheeks weren’t cold from the wind, it would be on fire. I shift from side to side, biting my lower lip.
“You know what, never mind.” He says, shaking his head. “Just get in.” 
“No, really. It’s okay, I can walk.” 
“I’m not going to let you walk all the way home by yourself in the middle of the night. Especially with that kid missing.” He says reaching over to open the door. “Get in. I’m taking you home.” 
I slide inside the car closing the door behind me. I quickly roll up the window savouring the heat. The van is wide and spacious from the inside and I feel extremely small. I secure my seatbelt on, pulling my hood off my head. I shiver, defrosting under the newfound heat. 
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks. I nod my head, sniffing softly. “I’m sorry about the mess.” He says, putting the car in drive.
I look around the van. It looks pretty clean to me. The trunk had an array of pillows and carpeted flooring. It felt homey and personalized. 
“It doesn’t look a mess to me.” I say, quietly. “Thank you, for doing this.” 
Eddie nods his head and I lean back in the chair playing with my fingers. The van is quiet apart from the heater blowing. I’ve seen this van around in school—well I heard it before I saw it because of how loud it was. Never did I think I’d be inside the car with a boy I met 24 hours ago. 
“Where are you coming from?” 
“A house party.” 
Eddie wrinkles his nose. “On a Tuesday?” Exactly what I said. He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to look at me. “I never took you to be the partying type.” 
I’m not sure if I should take offence to that remark or not, but nonetheless, I shake my head. 
“I’m not.” 
“Why did you go then?” 
The question weighs heavy in my chest. From the embarrassment to the shock of what happened tonight. I don’t know how to answer Eddie. 
“I went for…” I think of the right words to use. “Moral support.” 
Eddie nods his head, leaning back in his seat. One hand remained on the wheel while the other stayed perched on the centre console. I envy how relaxed he looks while driving. I had to have two hands on the steering wheel at all times and I sat so close to the dashboard, Dad asks me if I’m trying to drive or go through the windshield. 
“Where was this party? I didn’t see any cars parked on the road when I was driving down the street.” 
I rub my lips together, sinking deeper into the chair. 
“Steve Harrington’s.” I mutter. 
“Hm.” 
I don’t know what’s worse. Telling Eddie I went to Steve Harrington’s house or Eddie’s response. 
“I-I honestly wouldn’t call it a party. It was more of a hang out.” 
“Did you have fun as at least?” 
I shake my head. Eddie snorts. 
“Figures.” He says. “Why not?” 
Everything that happened tonight flashes in a blink of an eye. I take a deep breath and speak. 
“Tommy H and Carol were there. I don’t feel comfortable around that group, but my best friend, Nancy does. At least I think she does—” I frown shaking my head. “I don’t know…it was all so bizarre. I want to be there for her. We both did, Barb and I, but I couldn’t stay there any longer.”  
“They’re still at the party.” I nod my head. The weight in my chest feels heavier. “Why would they stay knowing you felt uncomfortable being there?” 
The car is quiet again as we pass over the train tracks. I turn to Eddie; he’s looking straight at the road. Again, I don’t know how to respond to him. It’s a question I honestly don’t have an answer for. I swallow down the lump forming in my throat. 
“I don’t know,” I respond. My voice sounds hoarse. “It’s complicated.” 
Eddie shakes his head. “Doesn’t sound complicated to me. You didn’t want to go to the ‘party’ but did anyway to support Nancy. I’m sure she seen how uncomfortable you looked, but still decided to stay and left you to walk across town in the middle of the night by yourself.” He sounds upset again and I’m not sure why. 
“Well, I wanted to leave and Barb wanted to leave too. I know she did.” 
“If Barbara wanted to leave, she would’ve. With you.” He was right. Barb would’ve, but I don’t need to confirm that. 
“But then Nancy would be by herself.” I answer, with the same approach as Barb. 
Eddie glances at me. “Trust me. Nancy would not be by herself.” 
I frown at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“She’s with Steve Harrington.” He said, matter-of-factly. Though I know what he’s alluding to and I go over what he asked and how I replied. Did I suggest Nancy is having sex with Steve? 
“Nancy isn’t like that.” I defend.
“You don’t sound too sure.” Eddie responds. 
I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come. I close my mouth and look at the road. I feel like I’ve betrayed Nancy’s trust, even though I know I didn’t say anything. This is the first time I’ve spoken to Eddie and he’s managed to read my mind in the matter of minutes. Was it written all over my face? Or was I just that easy to read? I pout, removing my hair from inside my jacket. My waves fall down my front and the faint smell of coconut and vanilla lingers in my nose. I decide to change the topic of conversation. 
“Where are you coming from?” 
“The Hideout.” I arch my brow and Eddie smiles. “It’s a bar on Mulberry and Cherry Oak.” 
“Aren’t you too young to work at a bar?” 
“If you wanna get all technical, yes. But, it’s the only place in this town that’ll let me and my band play.” 
“You have a band?” I say, smiling. “That’s cool. Really cool actually.” He looks like he’d have a band. “What’s the name of your band?” 
“Corroded Coffin.” 
“Does it mean anything?” 
Eddie approaches a stop sign and looks at me. “It’s just metal, sweetheart.” He says softly. 
My heart beat picks up speed. Sweetheart. My mom calls me sweetheart all the time, but hearing Eddie say it, makes me feel airy and light, yet heavy and fast. I don’t know. Eddie’s eyes roam my face again and I wonder if there’s something on it. The back of my neck feels hot and I break eye contact, playing with the ends of my hair. 
“What instrument do you play?” I ask, breathless. Eddie continues straight. 
“Lead guitar. I also sing a little.” 
“Oh wow! Do you write your own songs?” 
“Not really. Just sing covers. Judas Priest, Ozzy Osbourne, Metallica, KISS. All the greats.” 
“I’ve never heard of them.” 
“What kind of music are you into? Actually, let me guess. Madonna. Cyndi Lauper. Billy Joel—” 
“You name these people like they make bad music.” I interject. 
Eddie wrinkles his nose, shrugging his shoulders. My jaw drops. 
“They all make good music!” I defend, sitting up. “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun? Holiday? Uptown Girl!” 
“Meh.” I gawk. 
“I bet your sister likes Uptown Girl.” 
“Sister?” Eddie queried. I suddenly feel cold. Eddie glances at me again and smirks. “Do you know something I don’t know? Find out I have a secret relative lurking around Hawkins.” 
“Oh, I-I thought the girl you’re always with was a relative. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.” 
“Ronnie?” Eddie makes a left turn on Cherry Oak. I nod my head. 
“You both look alike.” 
“Yeah, we get that a lot,” his eyes light up. “But no, she’s not my cousin. She’s my best friend, like a sister to me.” 
“She’s very tall.” 
Eddie laughs and my stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies fluttering all at once. “That she is.” 
“What’s wrong with Uptown Girl?” I continue. “A sweet downtown man trying to court an uptown girl. I think it’s romantic.” 
“It’s cliché. In real life, an uptown girl would never pick a downtown man.” 
“You don’t know that.” 
Eddie gives me a look. “If an uptown man was trying to court her as well, she’d pick him instead of the downtown man.” 
“You don’t know that either.” I counter. 
“Would you date a downtown man?” 
“If he was sweet and kind. Why not?” 
“Even if he couldn’t afford to buy you pearls?” He arches his brow playfully. I grin.
“So, you’ve listened to the song.” 
Eddie smiles back, his dimples appear on his cheeks. “I never said I didn’t.” 
I ignore the butterflies. “Admit it. You like the song.” 
Eddie shakes his head, but his smile remains. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Sweetheart. 
“I wouldn’t discriminate a person because of how much money they don’t have. It’s not about the money. It’s about love.” 
“It’s always about the money.” I shake my head. “You’d live in a box with a downtown man, all for love?” 
I scrunch my nose, shaking my head. “No…”  
“Exactly. It’s all a cliché.” 
“If I had a house, he’d just move in with me and the house will become ours.” 
The expression on Eddie’s face makes me wonder if he’s trying not to laugh at me or not. It reminds me of Erica yesterday at breakfast forcing herself to refrain from laughing out loud when Lucas teased me about my driving. 
“What about everyone else?” 
“What about them?” 
“Assuming you’re the uptown girl, what if your uptown friends disapprove of the downtown man?” 
“If the downtown man treats me well and loves me as much as I love him, their opinions won’t matter.” 
“Hm.” 
I don’t know if hm is a good or bad.
“So, what about you?” I ask. Eddie looks at me with a slight frown. “Would you date an uptown girl?” 
The frown smoothens between his brows and Eddie’s eyes roam my face again. I don’t know if I’m overheating or not, but my cheeks feel hot and I want to ask him to turn down the heat. His dark brown eyes linger on my lips for a split second before flickering to my eyes. I rub my lips together to feel if something were on them. I feel nothing. 
“If she’ll have me.” he murmurs. 
“Maybe she can buy you pearls.” Eddie laughs and I laugh too. 
“I wouldn’t mind. Enough about me though. Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?” 
“Um…Dance. Ballet to be specific, though sometimes I want to try jazz.” 
“Explain jazz to me. I only know it to be a music genre.” 
“Jazz is like…a mixture of ballet and modern dance. That’s the best way I can explain it.” 
“Are you going to do it? Jazz dance, I mean.” I shrug my shoulders. 
Transitioning from ballet to jazz was going to be an adjustment and a big step outside of my comfort zone. Sometimes before rehearsals, I’d watch the other classes of the girls and boys dance to funk and pop music. I am always in awe of the way they moved their bodies. It looked so…free and unrestricted. Less technical than ballet. I dance to Prince and Rick James in my room all the time and these classes immolated what I felt when I do. But telling my parents I want to switch over to jazz would be another hurdle to jump over. I will need to ease them and myself into that. 
“If you’re interested in it, I think you should.” 
“Maybe one day.” 
“What’s stopping you?” 
 “The Nutcracker season.” 
 “The Nutcracker?” 
Unlike Tommy H, Carol and Steve. Eddie didn’t make fun. He seems genuinely interested in what I had to say. And for the first time, I don’t feel…embarrassed to talk about myself. 
“Every year at my dance studio, we perform The Nutcracker. It’s a two-act play by Tchaikovsky and this year I got one of the leads in the second act.”  
“Congratulations.” He says with a smile. 
“Thank you.” I blush. “All my time and energy is put into the performance but with Will’s disappearance, classes are cancelled.” 
Just like that. All the light and life in the van disappears like blowing out a candle. I breathe deeply, sitting back into the seat. The car is quiet for a few minutes. I’m lost in my thoughts of Will, Lucas and the boys; Miss Byers and Jonathan. I need to talk to Jonathan tomorrow and check in with him. 
“Do you know Will?” Eddie speculates. 
“He’s my little brother’s best friend.” 
“I’m sorry.” I blink and glance at him. It’s the first time anyone said that to me and I realize, I never thought about how I’ve been affected by Will’s disappearance. 
“I just hope we find him.” 
“Me too.” Eddie murmurs and deep down inside me, I know he means it. 
I peer out the window just as we pass Dustin’s house. I pray I don’t see three boys on bikes riding down the street and tell Eddie to make a right on Elm Street and then another right on Gloucester. As we approach my neighbourhood, I begin to take my keys out of my pocket. 
“My house is just around the corner near the end of the cul-de-sac. Blue with white shutters.” 
Eddie eases inside my driveway. Thankfully the house lights are off which meant everyone was asleep. It would be easier to sneak in. I can’t believe I’m plotting how to get inside my own house.
“You don’t have to drive me to my door. I can walk from here.” I say, taking off my seatbelt. I don’t want to draw too much attention to the house in case my parents are awake for some reason. 
“I already drove across town to get you home, the least I can do it drive you to your front door.” 
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” I assure him with a smile. 
Eddie reluctantly puts his car in park and shuts off the car. I am surprised when he takes off his seat belt to twist his body to face me. It creates a little distance between us. 
“Why?” he asks, somewhat defensively. I don’t want him to feel like I’m using him so I tell him the truth. 
“I’m not supposed to be home,” I answer, sheepishly. “I’m supposed to be at Nancy’s house up the street but—” 
“You were at Harrington’s.” Eddie finishes. I nod my head. 
Eddie relaxes his stance, resting his arm on the steering wheel. He gestures to my front door. 
“I’ll wait here and watch you walk to your door.” 
“Thank you for driving me home.”
“Please don’t walk around at night by yourself again.” 
I tuck a loose curl behind my ear. “I won’t, I promise.” 
“I won’t leave until you’re inside. 
I open the door, stiffening at the cool wind blowing past. Closing the door, I begin to walk towards my front door. I am just passing the front of his car when I hear my name. 
“Yes?” I say, approaching Eddie. 
“Listen to “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” by KISS. It’s a hard rock song with disco influences. I think you’ll enjoy it.” 
I blink, not expecting him to say that. “Okay!” I answer with a smile. When he smiles back and his dimples show, I can’t help but grin and lean forward. 
“Listen to “Candy Girl” by New Edition. It’s my favourite song right now.” 
“Candy Girl,” he muses. I notice a slight flush in his cheeks and lean back. “Okay.” 
I bite my lip, tucking my hair behind my ear. I know I have to go inside, but part of me wants to stay with Eddie and talk all night in his van. I enjoyed our short conversations and how at ease I felt talking to him. 
“Thank you again, Eddie.” 
Eddie looks in my eyes this time and I force myself to keep eye contact. “You’re Welcome, Diana.” 
“See you tomorrow.” 
“See you tomorrow.” 
I feel his stare at the back of my head, as I walk to my front door. I quietly enter my house but don’t close the door all the way, peeking through the crack. As promised, Eddie pulls out of my driveway and even kept his headlights off until he was out. I close the door completely and lock my door, but instead of walking through the foyer, I linger, touching my lips. I can’t hide the smile on my face even if I wanted to. 
Tumblr media
CHAPTER 3: HOLLY, JOLLY
27 notes · View notes
cdyssey · 10 months ago
Text
I think that “The Waters of Mars” and “Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead” are soooooo interesting to view in parallel to each other because they have a lot of complementary beats. (CW: Suicide Reference for “Waters of Mars”)
The Doctor arrives at ‘x’ place—a cold, dark Library, a doomed base on Mars—and meets an extremely accomplished leader of a good crew in Adelaide and River. Both women are necessarily hardened by their experiences and responsibilities in some ways but clearly care for their loved ones and their colleagues all the same.
The Doctor knows almost everything there is to know about Adelaide from an impersonal standpoint—her history, her death, her cosmic place in the wider universe. He initially looks at the Bowie crew and is visibly stricken by the inevitable tragedy of them all. River knows almost everything there is to know about the Doctor from a personal standpoint—he’s her husband, but god, he’s so young, and he doesn’t even know it. Know her. She has years upon wonderful and complicated years of history with this man, and he looks right through her. (She thinks it might kill her.)
As the respective episodes wear on, the Doctor has a clear connection with both River and Adelaide, both of whom can boss him around like people rarely do skskdjnsns. They’re smart and driven and won’t suffer any fools, but they’re remarkably human when it matters most. River speaks softly to Miss Evangelista as her ghost fades from the neural relay. Adelaide doesn’t shoot the infected Andy even though she could have.
But he’s also increasingly frustrated and upset by his helplessness when it comes to them. It scares and unnerves him that River is clearly someone extremely important from his future; he’s always been insecure about not knowing what’s in store, and River is a walking reminder of his lack of personal perspective, his inability to totally have control. He’s drawn to her. She’s so clever and brave and good. He fears what she represents all the same. He snaps at her, clearly distrusts her. River calls him out on being emotional. The Doctor knows that he should leave Bowie Base One. There’s nothing he can do for these wonderful people. What happens on Mars has to stay on Mars; a fixed point is just that—an immutable event in time. But as he gets to know Adelaide—who is also so clever and brave and good—that responsibility becomes muddied by his increasing care and admiration for the captain. He grows taciturn as he watches the mission all fall to pieces. He’s emotional.
But why is he emotional? What’s another central tension that these episodes share? Both “Waters” and “Forest” either directly or intertextually deal with the Doctor simply reeling over the loss of Donna. The wrenching grief of having failed yet another someone that he loves drives the Doctor’s anger and affects his ability to think objectively. River tells him to focus on the present, on the five people who are still alive in the room. (“Dear God, you’re hard work young.”) And the last scene of “Waters” is in stunning and raw conversation with “The Runaway Bride.” Ten alone and grieving is a recipe for disaster. Donna is the first person who’s explicitly told him that he needs someone to stop him. Because if he isn’t stopped, he becomes his own waking nightmare. He becomes the Time Lord Victorious.
The climaxes of both “Forest” and “Waters” are about the Doctor wanting to change history. “Time can be rewritten,” he pleads. And River, angrier and more desperate than we have ever seen her before, pleads back, “Not those times. Not one line. Don’t you dare.” By making him watch her sacrifice, she implicitly shows him that this moment in time is inevitable, and he’ll one day do the same to her in a lake in Florida. (It’s horrible and it’s awful, but, god, if it isn’t an act of unspeakable love and forgiveness too.) But Ten in “Waters” doesn’t have anyone to stop him—not Donna, not River, not even initially Adelaide, even though she desperately tries by blowing up the base. The laws of time will obey the Doctor. He’s a Time Lord, and he makes the rules. This revelation elevates all of his worst impulses—his arrogance, his vanity, and his pride—and for a moment, as we watch him gleefully preen to a horror-struck Adelaide, Yuri, and Mia, we understand that he’s become the villain in someone else’s story. Someone has to stop him, and that Adelaide does. She understands that there are too many things at stake for the future—her granddaughters’ life, the lives of so many others—in the same way that River wasn’t willing to relinquish one fragment of hers and the Doctor’s history. The Doctor realizes the magnitude of what the captain did—what he forced her to do—immediately. He went too damn far.
“Forest” and “Waters” both end with the Doctor running. Running to River, trying to save this person who will clearly mean so much to him one day. Running away from his fate in “Waters,” unwilling to accept the death that soon awaits him. (“Oh, I’m good!” He exclaims jubilantly when he realizes that his future self has saved the professor. / “Oh, I’m good!” He grins at Mia, Yuri, and Adelaide, so pleased that he’s saved them, that he’s single-handedly changed a fixed point.) But the shared impact of these stories is that both River and Adelaide teach the Doctor a lesson about the inevitability of time—its forward march, no matter how much he wishes otherwise. They give him perspective, these remarkable women—and to a being such as the Doctor who is sensitive to the whole breadth of the universe—that’s often the most important gift that he ever receives.
22 notes · View notes
dykesynthezoid · 11 months ago
Text
I feel so bad for Cassandra but she was also so much more interesting to me when she was completely unknowable… Maybe I am just falling for the same “your goddess shouldn’t have a name” trap lmao but really it’s like. This goddess of night and mystery and the unknown has had her identity collapsed down into this single finite point based on an exhausted, traumatized 16 y old girl… funnily enough Kalina is actually the only part of her that really remains mysterious or strange. I remember finding Kristen’s scenes in the nightmare forest, reaching out into the dark, to an ancient, nameless goddess, with no guarantees, just bc something in her told her it was right, so deeply impactful. Kristen is drawn to the unknown, but Cassandra isn’t unknown to her now, she’s a mirror image of Kristen herself. Maybe that’s part of the problem. But also maybe I’m biased bc I already actively reject the idea of the divine as any sort of anthropomorphized physical being.
22 notes · View notes
deepdreamnights · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
A musical CreepyPasta
Based on my short story, here.
Prompts and Process under the fold.
Prompts:
Image: 1980s movie poster painting, night scene, two identical men stand next to each other, they are wearing identical red shirts and blue jackets, one holds a fire axe in one hand, the other has a machete, the scene is mysterious and tense, a vast haunted forest rises behind them. Moonlight and deep shadows, mystery/horror movie vibes, their faces are in shadow, expressions dispassionate, looking in opposite directions
The image is a standard multi composite of several gens, with color correction, over painting and typographical elements.
Suno:
Style Prompt: halloween ambient music, organs, theremin, dramagic male voiceover on top, echos, remixing
Lyrics Prompt:
[creepy intro] [sinister bridge]
[male narrator, spoken word] I know I wasn't supposed to. But I went into the woods. Another me came out. We seem to be equally suspicious that the other is the imposter. I keep checking him for roots and he keeps doing the same to me. Is it a double bluff?
[drop] [bridge] [nightmare flute]
[narrator, spoken word] Is he gaslighting me into thinking I'm the never-was thing and he's the human being with organs and anxiety? Is he truly unaware he's a mockery given shape? If he can be unaware of it, I can be too. [build] [narrator, spoken word] That's kind of a lonely thought, really. [drop]
[Syncopated Bass] [organ]
[narrator, spoken word] It's been several days and the tests are all inconclusive. We both bleed normal blood that doesn't turn into a spider and jump to the ceiling when you touch it with a hot wire. We know the same trivia. We pretended to know the same stuff we forgot that we were embarrassed not to remember. We both got uncomfortable at the exact same time when we walked into the cathedral.
[drop] [Syncopated Bass] [organ] [swell]
[narrator, Sprechgesang] It's been several days and the tests are all inconclusive. We both bleed normal blood that doesn't turn into a spider and jump to the ceiling when you touch it with a hot wire. We know the same trivia. We pretended to know the same stuff we forgot that we were embarrassed not to remember.
We both got uncomfortable at the exact. same. time. when we walked into the cathedral.
We arm wrestled and didn't tie somehow, but we weren't sure if winning meant he was more likely to be fake or less likely.
I worry that we don't really know anything about accursed other selves from the woods.
[break]
Wikipedia has been less than helpful.
[drop]
[narrator, amused spoken word] Mom claims she knows which one of us is her 'first boy' but refuses to tell us on the basis that she loves us both and thinks we should get along.
He thinks she can't tell and is too embarrassed to tell us. I think its because she wants to double her chance at grandkids. The difference in opinion is interesting, but is it a sign of an imposter,
[break]
or the divergence of our experiences?
[drop]
We've decided to flip for the job.
I won. So I don't have to find new work.
I don't know if that's a win.
[flute bridge]
I think the curse is that neither one of us is an unnatural imposter out to kill the other. Or else whichever one of us is the monster has realized they don't think my life is worth killing to steal.
[water samples] [water sfx]
I know that when I think about a gush of sea water and blasphemous screams roiling from the empty hole that should contain bone and brains, it just seems like a lot of trouble and effort.
Where do you get a rusty fire axe anyway?
[build] [build] [drop] [musical tone shift, bright, upbeat]
[narrator, chuckling] I think I'm going to start going by my middle name.
[gentle instrumental bridge]
[theramin-flute duet]
[narrator] Another me just showed up on our doorstep. [narrator] He's caked in mud, sticks and twigs in his hair, babbling about harrowing experiences. I'm fixing him some tea while the other-other me hands him the pamphlet we made just in case. [narrator] Now he's telling us about the Night King. [break] Like we don't know. [music resumes] I need a bigger place. [outro] [end]
[outro]
12 notes · View notes
brisquad-unit-4402 · 6 months ago
Text
okay lots of post-minotaur thoughts. i really should’ve liveblogged but Whatever, these are very disorganized because i’m hopping in-between different parts of the movie as well as the 3d celebration zatsu
i think a lot of folks have picked this up: this is the vtuber bo burnham inside
the entire time i watched this i was like “man how come i can’t have an expansive mind palace to roam within”
bc uhhh. idk if this is the same for you or anyone else out there. but when i think about myself doing something it’s in first person, never actually my imagination conjuring up a Unit 4402 doing the something
and that sidetracked me so hard during how to get away with murder bc MAN i wish whenever i had mental breakdowns over my character i could imagine myself as a quirked up unit 4402 with a little bit of swag busting it down sexual style while i have 4 clones of myself goated with the sauce
i’ve never seen the joker but i’m pretty sure the how to get away with murder dance is vtuber joker dance
it is so awkward watching the post 3d zatsu rn and seeing people in chat miss the point
especially bc i think the thing that most got to me and affected me was the classroom scene. such a relatable foundation, especially for people like us, the nightmare of Being Wrong in front of everyone else and an authority who are in the loop and you’re the only one out
like. that’s actually insidious. incredibly effective way to deliver the ugly parts of the job: who doesn’t want to know everything about what they love even if parasocial. i’m sure we can all recognize the boundaries of how to interact with streamers and i do hope if you’re on my blog it’s with respect to the streamers, but the intrusiveness, lack of privacy, goddamn. the conditioning of vox sitting at the desk as soon as he can
i really do think the horse is the most british thing i’ve ever seen
i… am trying very hard not to be pretentious about the horse, and i am trying very hard not to be praising a vtuber because the initial reaction is to praise them innately, but i really do think that is peak surrealism and i could make a full post on this scene alone. like, on a metatextual level. times new roman 12pt double spaced d-o-n-t t-e-s-t m-e
ok update i’ve been informed about the peter the horse is here meme. i stand by my words
i’m going to be real i’m replaying the first scene a lot just because i… really cannot understand this without subtitles
i know we’re all laughing along with every cowboy luca line but we need to recognize the understated champion: shu “naw”
WAIT IM SKIPPING THROUGH SOME SCENES TO CATCH THINGS IVE MISSED. THE FUCK YOU MEAN THE TAKEOUT BOX IN HIS FRIDGE IS CHICKEN DICKNOCKERS
also oooooh. i get it now. “sometimes i wonder what it would be like if i didn’t care all that much” is a driving line for the film. everything that unfolds is a consequence OF caring too much and just enough. the fact that the bed’s been made and he has to lie in it. by the end this line doesn’t matter because he’s learned to accept his nature. and if you wanted to get paradoxical he’s learned to not care about that line
i wish i understood the words in lyrics the first time i hear them. someone give me a transcript, i’ll be unstoppable then
the second i saw the text for Inside A Demon’s Soul (Whenever Vox Akuma Devours A Human Soul, This Is Where They Go) i paused. sat there. and laughed so hard because that is maybe the easiest meme format i’ve ever seen in the the same way as everything everywhere all at once rock scene. put a white shape over the text, write down the time stamp. now you have a banger man standing that follows the standard top text bottom text base formula
when he stood up in the forest at the beginning of the labyrinth i really did see a minecraft Vox_Akuma joined the game banner in my mind’s eye
vox please drop the ost as soon as possible i need he who waits eternity and how to get away with motherfucking murder in my playlists asap
also how to get away with murder reminds me a little introvert by little simz. hard to describe, i think it’s because they both sound so spacious and be these long, introspective songs that never really Feel like they’re dragging on because of all the beat changes and stuff, you know? vox’s rap isn’t helping
i cannot end this post without talking about
THE INDOMITABLE FULGUR OVID BABYYYYYY
the way i furrowed my brow the SECOND i saw that hand
the way i yelled the second i saw his face
hehe. despite everything i am dearly a comfydant. i can’t think of anyone better than fuuchan for the beach scene, i’m so grateful he’s here
i mentioned “sometimes i wonder what it would be like if i didn’t care care all that much.” i now raise you “of course it matters, it matters to you… brother the only thing that would make you a bad person is letting that stop you from doing any good things”
and of course the hug
idk what to say about the hug. it’s very needed. and from fuu of all people who understands integrating lore and streaming, understands the divide, pretended to beef with vox only to become one of his close friends, i really can’t imagine it with anyone else
do you guys think box tenshi is Apathy. i think i’ll need to sit on it for a bit but i’m seeing some threads about how tenshi is what happens when that takes over and vox chooses not to care about the people he’s hurt for his own comfort. after all his character is entirely on balancing the little delights and missteps of humanity, and the nature of a predator demon. i’m sure i could elaborate later on
should i, like, be critical…? because i do have things that i’m critical about, but this was a very delightful watch and it’s changed me fundamentally
i like vtubers because of the balance between fantasy and real and this movie very much does cater from that. all media requires the suspension of disbelief but with the way minotaur is delivered it kind of toys with Suspension of Disbelief as in-verse environment, too. fandom, anti, and collective opinion are their own characters in this movie and that just cannot be captured in a medium like fictional, scripted entertainment, you know… it’s very bo burnham inside. but the difference is that inside is everyday people would assume these expectations. as vtuber watchers we’ve full-on experienced the good and bad ourselves. i mean… how many times have you said your opinion on vox online. seems someone act weird in chat. i write fanfiction, i contribute to expectation too because i participate in fandom. that’s just the natural effect of being an internet personality, so the least we can do is be respectful of it and be critical of ourselves so we can maintain that respect to each other and the streamer
but i guess that’s preachy of me vox illustrated the point on his own wonderfully
i could do cornell notes on this movie
12 notes · View notes