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hoshiina · 3 months

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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: a reader that keeps messing around w him and at some point they mention they like him but then hoshina thinks theyre just playing... ..but they r not and he doesnt quite get it at first because hes so used to them joking around and then he ends up overthinking the whole thing until reader actually goes up to him to kiss him (or hug him very tight!!!!!!!! or both maybe!!!!!!)

maybe he liked them too but that thought didnt sit right with him because he doesnt believe hes worthy of something like that

notes: mentions the reader's face "flushing", reader is rather lively/outgoing, reader is not a fan of horror and is more a fan of romance, reader is a hoshina stan, one part is inspired by a scene in wakaba no komorebi, omg why are there so many notes I'm so sorry TY FOR THE REQ!!

wc: 2800

A new day, a new chance for you to shoot your shot at none other than your vice-captain of the third division.

You were always messing with him. This ranged from embarrassing pranks a grade school boy would menace his crush with, all the way to borderline hitting on him. There wasn’t a single day you’d forget to remind him he was stunning, and you’d always be bragging about him to the officers in the first division, regardless of the fact that you had absolutely nothing to do with the things you were bragging about. Simply put, you were loud about Hoshina.

Yet, every day, he'd brush you off and tell you to get to work. You didn't let that mind you much though, because you could tell he wasn't actually upset. You liked him unconditionally, and as long as you weren't actually bothering him, you couldn't care less if your feelings weren't returned. Well, you did care, but that wasn't going to stop how you felt for him.

Now, you said all of that, but naturally, you were still scared to just put your feelings out there so you hadn’t actually told Hoshina you liked him. You assumed he knew, but if you said it out loud, you’d have to hear an answer. And that, you were not ready for.

However, you weren’t going to stop messing with him anytime soon. Hoping one day he’d actually fall for you and one day you’d have the courage to properly tell him how you felt.

You were in the cafeteria with the rest of the division, having your breakfast while mindlessly scrolling through your phone, when you saw a post about a new movie in theatres. Immediately your mind went to possibly inviting Hoshina and you scrolled right back up, trying to find out what it was about. Horror. You sighed and continued to scroll. Horror was absolutely not your favourite.

“Oh, is it finally out?” you heard a voice from behind you say— your favourite voice say.

“Would you like to go?” you asked, whipping your head back to see none other than Hoshina Soushirou. Just the sight of him and your heart would flutter. How you loved him. “Together? Us? Just us? You and me?”

“Oh, like we have time to go,” he said.

“Man,” you said, knowing he’d say that. The entire defence force in general had been a lot busier ever since the appearance of so many identified grade kaijus. However, it did make you wonder if that meant he would if he did have time. No, he’s just declining your invitation politely, you’d tell yourself, bringing you back to your senses.

You’ve done this since always, and you do this every time without fail. Whenever a new shop had opened, or a new movie to watch had come to theatres, you'd always shoot your shot— hoping he'd say yes one day. Yes to a date.

Although you were used to getting turned down, it still wasn’t the best feeling. Recently, you've been letting it get to you far more than you used to. Maybe after all these times, the rejection did start to have an affect on you. Maybe you were falling for him even harder recently, or maybe you were starting to hope for your feelings to be returned.

Perhaps a relaxing day at the movies was exactly what you needed. Maybe you’d ask for a day off next week— just to go watch a movie you liked.

So you did exactly that, you filed a form to Captain Ashiro, requesting a day off anytime the next week. Preferably on a Tuesday, because movie tickets were cheaper on Tuesdays.

A few days later, you were called over to her office. You assumed it was just to let you know if you could have your day off and if so, when it was. To your surprise, when you walked in, it wasn't Ashiro but rather Hoshina there, working away.

“Hoshina?” you asked, pleasantly surprised. “I didn't expect to see you today.”

“You didn't?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “But this is my office?”

“Your office? I thought it was Captain Ashiro’s?” you said.

“It used to be, but I took it over a little while back,” he said. “It's just a lot faster for me to do the paperwork.”

“Oh… I see,” you said, rather surprised you weren't already aware. There was a moment of silence.

“It was rather recently that I had officially started working here,” he said, somehow noticing that you were dejected. Oh, how did he always know exactly what to say? You were never going to get over him at this rate. “Anyways, you requested a day off next week?”

“Um… yes,” you said. Now you felt a little awkward about going to a movie alone, and you really hoped he wouldn't realize where you were going.

“On a Tuesday… are you going to see that movie after all?” he asked and he noticed you stiffened a little, so he immediately followed with, “Sorry, you don't have to answer that. You're absolutely free to take that day off.”

“I am,” you said. Half a lie, because there was no way you were watching a horror movie, let alone by yourself. But you were going to the movies. That was true. “It's been a while since I watched a movie in theatres, I realized.”

“I've never gone alone actually,” he said, imagining you were planning to go alone. “Or are you going with someone?”

“No, I'll be by myself,” you said, but instinctively you asked him out again. It was practically in your subconsciousness to do so. “Unless you'd like to tag along?”

There was a long pause before he said anything, and his unreadable expression only made the silence feel longer. You were expecting a quick rejection again, so the silence was absolutely killing you— you hadn't expected it one bit.

“Actually, I'd like to,” he said. “If that's okay with you, of course.”

You couldn't believe your ears. What did he say? You couldn't have possibly heard that right. What had he said?

On the other hand, he had no idea why he said yes. Why after turning you down all these times? Why now? He had turned down every offer of yours because he knew you were just messing around. You didn’t feel about him the way he felt about you. He knew this because you had done this since the moment you joined, and you couldn’t have liked him back then— you hadn't even know him yet.

But still, he hoped you were serious.

“You're joking,” you said.

“Were you?” he asked. This must be why he said yes. He wanted to know so badly— he was rather exhausted of playing the guessing game with you.

“Not at all,” you said. You thought he had known, but perhaps not. “I've never been. Not for a moment.”

“Then, let's go,” he said with his poker face on, but he was a little shaken. He didn't think you were at all serious, let alone that serious.

“Hoshina, is this a date?” you asked, and you could tell your cheeks were flushed. However, there wasn't much to be embarrassed about at this point, so you might as well have asked before you drove yourself insane.

“Okay…” you said, but you were spaced out. You had no idea what had prompted this all of a sudden, but this was the moment you had been waiting for, for your whole life. Yes to a date.

A date? Was it a date?

“Would you like it to be?” he asked. You had no idea what he was thinking.

“Yes,” you said. “Of course…”

“Then, let's go on a date,” he said. “On Tuesday, at 2pm. I'll pick you up from your unit and we'll go and watch a movie.”

It was yes to a date. A date with none other than the love of your life. You were going on a date with Hoshina Soushirou.

You left the office soon after, thanking him as you left, and you were lost in thought. You truly felt like the world around you had stopped, but at the same time, the time passing was a blur. You thought it’d be forever before your long awaited day, and you’d have plenty of time to calm yourself down and prepare, but it had rolled around before you knew it.

You put on what you personally thought was your best date outfit, but you had no idea if he’d like it. You really hoped he would. Now, you were sitting around, waiting for him to come pick you up. It was still 10 till 2, but he was always ahead of schedule— he hated making people wait, so he was always early. A few minutes later, you heard a few footsteps and some rustling outside your door, and you were pretty sure it was him. You waited for a knock, but it wouldn’t come.

Quickly, you opened the door and it was him, waiting by your door with his phone in his hand, opened to your messages with him.

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry, were you waiting?”

“No,” you said, immediately. “I just finished getting ready. Why didn’t you knock?”

“Well, I’m early,” he said. “Didn’t want to rush you.”

Gosh, you were on a date. With him. You had actually never seen him in anything other than what he wears at the defense force, and as much as you liked that training shirt he had on, he looked so incredibly gorgeous today. And this was just for you. He wore a black corduroy turtleneck, and a simple long coat to go over it. You were still so lost, how had you gotten to this point in the first place?

“You’re stunning today,” he said to you as he smiled a little and you swear you felt your heartrate spike. Did he even know what he was doing?

“Not to mean you aren’t usually…” he said immediately. “Sorry, I never say the right things when they count, do I?”

“No, I thought my heart was going to stop,” you said, frankly. This was the way you always were, there was no point in getting flustered all of a sudden. “You’re gorgeous everyday, but even more so today.”

“Well, I’d have to be glad our date is today then,” he said.

While the two of you walked to the theatre, it was rather quiet. Far more quiet than you usually were. Suddenly, you were so nervous, and there was nothing to say to him. So many questions filled your head but none of them felt appropriate to ask. You felt like the spell would break if you took one wrong breath. You wanted to know why he was here with you today. Why he said yes all of a sudden, why he took a precious day off to go on a date with you, and what he was thinking when he said yes. You wanted to know how he felt about you, or at least how he felt about this date.

“I’ll go get us tickets,” you said, as soon as you got to the theatre. “Please pick a snack and a drink in the meantime, I’ll get the tickets quick.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, I’m getting the tickets, and the drinks and snacks, for that matter,” he said. “Besides, we haven’t even decided on a movie yet.”

“We haven’t?” you asked. “I thought we were watching the movie that came out the other day?”

“What? Why would we?” he asked, genuinely confused. “You don’t even like horror." He pointed at another poster on the wall. "Why don’t we watch that one? Romance is more your type of thing, isn’t it?”

You thought you’d cry. If there was one thing that was worrying you about this date, it was the movie. Horror really wasn’t for you, and you weren’t sure if you could watch the movie without showing it.

“How did you know?” you asked.

“It’s obvious,” he said. “You’ve never asked me out to a horror movie, have you?”

Just how did he notice? “But didn’t you want to watch that one?” you asked.

“Please, I can watch that whenever, on my own,” he said. “I’m here with you today. I’d be a horrible date to make you watch it with me.”

“Thank you,” you said, starstruck. “At least, let me pay for it then?”

“No way,” he said. “I’m taking you out today.”

“No, I asked you out,” you said.

“Don’t care!” he said and went off to get the tickets and snacks.

You were in love with him, and you were going to tell him. You were sure he knew, but you had to tell him properly. It wasn’t even that you were hoping for him to return your feelings, you just wanted to tell him.

You thought you wouldn’t be able to focus on the movie at all, but you were, strangely enough. You were watching a cliche romance movie that couldn’t possibly be about you and Hoshina, no matter how much you tried to stretch the narrative, but you loved it. It was a sweet movie, a type that you've always loved, and you were watching it with the one you always loved. You couldn’t be happier.

So as soon as the movie was over, you went for it.

“Hoshina, I love you so much,” you said, and kissed him. On the lips.

His eyes were wide and his cheeks were faintly flushed. You weren’t expecting that, not even for a moment.

“You’re serious?” he asked.

You were confused, did he think you were playing around all this time? “Yes, of course,” you said. “I’ve loved you for forever.”

“Since… when?” he asked.

“Since the day you saved me, 3 years ago,” you said, immediately. It was like you had waited all your life to answer this. “You definitely don’t remember, but I remember like yesterday.”

He wouldn’t reply, but he was still looking at you surprised, so you continued on.

“I thought I had told you this actually. Not the part that I liked you, but the part that you saved me. I joined because of you, Hoshina,” you said. “Yes, you’re my vice-captain and the love of my life, and I’m one of your officers, but you were my hero and I was your biggest fan for all this time.”

Something in him shifted. It felt like someone had woken him up from a weird haze, and showed him how much colour there is to the world. You joined for him. Not for Mina, not for Gen, but him. To you, he was a hero. To the one he treasured most, he was irreplaceable.

“I love you too,” he said, with the softest smile you had ever seen from him. He was serious, you could tell.

“No way,” you said.

“I do,” he said, but he could tell that you were a little skeptical, or at least puzzled. “I love the way you work hard, the way you joke around, but actually care so much. I love the way you give everything your all. I love the way you always smile when you see me— it makes me feel so special. You make my day, absolutely every single day.”

It took everything in you to stop yourself from sobbing, but that made Hoshina laugh. He kissed you this time, and tears rolled down your cheeks anyway.

Wiping your cheeks with the pad of his thumb, he kissed you on the forehead.

“I absolutely adore you.”

BONUS:

Later that day, you were going to open up the one cardboard box you still hadn’t unpacked. The one filled with your posters and merch of Hoshina you had collected through these years. You were hiding them, because you thought it’d be a little too weird if you had those just hanging around, but finally, they’d see the sunlight. You would never have even imagined this day when you had those in your room, dreaming of him. If only you could tell your past self— just how thrilled you would’ve been. Well, not that you were any less thrilled now.

The next time Hoshina came to visit you in your room, he was utterly flustered, it was absolutely adorable. He couldn’t believe people actually bought the merch they sold of him, let alone put them up— and in the room of his loved one nonetheless. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, because it made him so incredibly happy.

He was thrilled that you did, in fact, love him the way he loved you.

#hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no8 x reader #kaiju no.8 x reader #kn8 x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x you #bros im sorry why is this SO LONG #THANK U SM FOR READING #i really hope you enjoyed but genuinely was this even all that interesting. i cannot even tell. (I FEAR IT WASNT TRULY)#is hoshina just the right amount of sweet or is he ooc sweet. that is the question. (I FEAR THE ANSWER I REALLY DO)#sorry guys in my head this sounded a lot better like a whole lot better #THANK U SM FOR THE REQUEST THIS WAS SO SO SWEET I HAD SM FUN WRITING THIS ACTUALLY #sweet hoshina will always be so fun to write i will never be free from this #request #omg also im so sorry if you find the 'hero' thing corny #i love the word hero unironically #i think its such a lovely word that's viewed as too corny to say now (SO SAD)#also so insanely unrelated but wakaba no komorebi is a shoujo manga w like multiple couples #and one of the mls in one of the shoujos is LITERALLY SHOUJO HOSHINA I KID YOU NOT #hes literally SOOOOOOOO my god hes just SOOOOOOO such a ml. so hoshina.

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cavesalamander · 6 months

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Scum Villain fic where Shen Yuan wakes up out of a coma and realizes that he just had a very, very vibrant dream about his boy and that web novel he hatereads.

When he gets back home after observation it's so... surreal. He feels so much older now. He's practically lived a lifetime in that dream, even if only a few months have passed.

His room is so... cringe is the word he wants to use, but he can't help but find his past self endearing about it all. Except that line of thought makes... no sense at all. His past self is just him from a couple months ago.

He decides to check up on the story he'd been dreaming about and finds out that, though there were a dozen more chapters, they had stopped updating completely without warning just a few weeks after his own coma.

(The comments after his coma, a few mention him, calling him out or cheering for him finally giving up on the story. Some people even speculate he might have died.)

His old comments were so embarrassing to read, but there's a part of him that... sees his love for Luo Binghe even in these.

Wait, why is he suddenly okay being gay for this protag??

He thinks he probably shouldn't be quite so chill about it.

He wonders what happened to Airplane. He stops himself from thinking too hard on the possibility it could all have been real. That was ridiculous!!

Meanwhile in the world of the system....

Luo Binghe is flipping OUT. His husband his shizun his beloved just up and went POOF. No trace of him, no clue left behind.

(Or is it worse if he dies? The original goods died that night he qi deviated and was replaced by Shen Yuan, so there's no soul there to replace him. Luo Binghe has had to deal with dead Shizun before but this time it's... different.)

Either way, after a whole lot of everyone flipping out, Shang Qinghua seems to know a little too much about... something.

The truth comes out. Luo Binghe admits he's suspected something like that for a while now, but thats not important. He needs his shizun back, so how..?

Cue dimension hopping shenanigans.

#scum villian self saving system #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #shang qinghua #shen yuan #salawriter #im not writing it i just think it would be fun if it existed #post coma shen yuan confused and disoriented and a lot gayer than he realized #trying so hard to write it all off as some vivid dream #even when SQH and LBH (and Mobei Jun) make it to his dimension #Airplane doesnt know where Cucumber lives #just that hes his biggest hater #que a chapter of airplane in bis shitty ass apartment flanked by two oh his hottest ocs while he tries to update his novel #trying to get cucumbers attention #maybe he gives luo binghe a husband for his harem jsut to bait out some comments #anyway i hope people enjoy this silly concept

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daemon-in-my-head · 3 months

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Ok I'm possibly boutta screw this one up, but, this is one for the writers and the visual artists. This one's gonna get up close and personal too.

Durge Asks - Creator Edition

What or who inspired your Durges design the most? A particular idea or vibe or perhaps another hottie or baddie?

How does their race play into the design? Was it a conscious choice because of the racial features or did you simply enjoy the playstyle or lore?

How do you prefer to portrait your Durge? Do you enjoy them in writing or their visuals more? If you're a writer or artist, would you/have you commissioned someone else before? Would you like to, in case you couldn't yet do it?

How did Durge come to be? Why them? Was it a vibe you tried to capture or a specific visual you wanted to represent? Did you borrow them from previous works or were they handcrafted for this story you have in mind?

Are they a plot device or the driving force? Do they exist to enhance Gortash or has Gortash developed to become the accessory wife? Do they compliment or foil each other?

Personality or looks, what came to you easier?

Is their personal story represented in their overall design? Do they carry any mental scars or physical alterations from the shit that happened to them?

Contradictory or easy to understand, which one applies more to your Durge? Is their design and personality a conundrum, or did you try to keep it as clear cut as possible?

How much did Bhaal influence their design or personality in the end? Did you research lore to purposefully get the resemblance or do you just go with the flow and what feels right for the story you want to tell?

How much of yourself can be found in your Durge? Do you share the same personality, taste, a specific feature? Are they who you want to be or who you used to be? Are they entirely removed from you as a person?

What's your go to medium for their portrayal? Google Docs, a niche notes app, perhaps one specific for writing, Procreate, Clip Studio, MediBang? Hit me with those recs. Do you sometimes mix em up?

OC Art/Stories or shipping content? What do you enjoy the most? What's ur little hidden passion?

Final and spiciest question. How down bad are you for your durge. Would you hit it even though you'd probably not make it out alive?

Ask prev when u reblog, be nice, this isn't strictly romantic, bla bla bla yk what I usually put here. Basically, have fun, go wild, save a fading fandom or smth (yes I copy pasted this, laziness is the great mother of all bad habits and good mothers should be honoured)

Also yes ik I said I'd get to answering asks and they are queued I just wanted to drop this one first so y'all have smth entertaining to do. Time to return to the shadows until I have ideas for these again, aka another temporary retirement lol.

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tennessoui · 1 year

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kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful. I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other. Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing.

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3 so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin.

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

#asks #obikin #obikin fic recs #me: im gonna focus and write my fic #also me: jk here is 4k of fic recs #i hope you enjoy!! i actually spent like 2 nights on this lol #combing through my history #tried to also spotlight some writers i like a lot but dont really see recc'ed #also psa if you have a tumblr pls link it to it on your ao3 #for kit #my notes are so silly i am sorry #i don't have kit's opinion corner often #so i shoved all my opinions into 4k of nonsense fic review #me: i hope peoplee like my fic list :)#also me: posts at the weirdest times where most people are not online :)

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oceanwithouthermoon · 3 months

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my confession as a grown ass 19 year old is that im still obsessed with those "characters reacting to the show theyre in" gacha videos, idk what it is about them but i can never stop watching them

the saiki k ones are so good because its always either like conveniently avoiding clips of saikis powers and everyone is really confused, or its a power reveal

#they sometimes make me sad because a lot of them are very misogynistic toward the girls #and the people making them tend to be very young #it makes me sad that we're conditioned at such young ages to treat women badly #theyre always kub*kai and either sat**sai or ar*ace saiki (censors so it doesnt show up in those searches)#and for some reason a lot of people just cant ship/hc those without writing the boys' love interests off as homophobic/bitches/etc.#ok but anyway. the ones that arent misogynistic are very fun #i love seeing younger people enjoy fandom things like that #im sure there are people my age or older enjoying it too lmao #saiki k #tdlosk #the disastrous life of saiki k.#meows post

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kit-williams · 1 month

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Anrir Husbandry

Husbandry tags: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@ms--lobotomy @nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @the-raven-lady

@bispecsual

Edit: forgot to thank @justahuman1757 for help with some of the translations and other help

Song on repeat: Cradles by Sub Urban (also most of the remixes for this SLAP)

tw: smut, yandere, obsessive behavior, manipulation

Anrir cooed at the little human in his arms finishing up singing them back to sleep знішчыць.... знішчыць... His voice carried low and softly. It was naptime... they needed to sleep as it was good for them of course they didn't seem to realize that. His long back hair was tied back into a slightly messy bun as his nearly completely black eyes dart around the pastel colored room just looking for anything wrong. His Dragă wanted to work with children in childcare and perhaps it took a couple of years to get here since he had first found her.

She was so much happier since he had first found her... happy about their bond... no more worry in her eyes... no more stress making her hands tremble or her loosing sleep... no more worrying about her next meal or if her car were to break... no more crying... well no more senseless crying. He puts the child down looking around at the sleeping forms but he cant help but grin as this really was all possible because of him, Anrir purrs softly at the satisfaction of how well he has done his job... and how he has covered his trail...

5 years prior

Anrir was a drifter... he drifted around as he had yet to find his own bonded, which given how some legions seemed to be more inclined to get a bond; with Night Lords being one of the ones with very few "feral" Astartes it was only a matter of time before Anrir would find his. But Anrir in all definitions was a feral Astartes having been unbonded since he arrived forty years ago. However, it was fine as Anrir hadn't spent that time just moping about he spent a majority of his time politicking and reuniting with other Terran Night Lords long dead and of course reuniting with those who were under his knife when they were aspirants and scouts which he affectionately called them his kids.

He was also using this time to take a break, a forced break, from running his warband; not that he could run it right now anyway. But he would mull over plans for when he returned back to his time period... if he did was another thought. His eyes moved up to the sky as he could smell the water gathering in the air. Which meant that the group he was with would start a debate on if they were going to settle down or continue on despite the weather. He did not care too much and decided to wander off to look around at where they were.

He walked out of the tree covering that the group was skulking through as he looked at the abandoned parking lot he had walked out into. It was rotting away neglected and abandoned as the painted lines were faded and practically gone, the pavement was cracked with plants growing through cracks; with the asphalt under his feet turning to gravel as plants come to reclaim this section of human infrastructure. And Anrir... he savored this reclamation of nature and decay of it all. Compared to the prison pit he was born into on the other side of the globe; he had already made his pilgrimage to the eventual site of his birth... a town full of people whose existence was never known as a great chasm of the guilty was there.

But that dark pit in the ground was not there now... there were no babies being born in that dark hellhole... his neck tattoo had a phantom itch as he is reminded why it was put on his neck... as he is reminded that at some point he was truly innocent... he is reminded of the hand gently petting his head... the soft voice cooing at him telling him how brave he was being... as he remembers having tears in his eyes as the ink is shoved into his skin... he gently starts to suffocate the memories of a child long gone and a woman paradoxically long dead and yet had yet to be born. His eyes flick to the far side of the quiet parking lot as a car just sits in the dark. The only other thing in this lot, far from the flickering road light... he could hear the annoying buzz of the light as it flickered... the flick... flick... flick... as it finally goes out. He moves with soft steps towards the vehicle as the summer insects scream their sonorous songs it was almost overstimulating for some of his brothers with how alive this planet felt with no foe to focus down on. Anrir felt his gums itch like he craved an oral inhalant and the way the hair on the back of his neck rose as he wandered closer not giving into the craving.

Anrir had seen many homeless humans both back in his own time and here. His eyes looked through the windows of the car seeing how it was lived in, he could hear the soft breathing akin to how someone was asleep... the slow beat of a heart was barely audible to him as the insects continued to scream their songs. There was nothing special about what he saw as it was a baseline female just buried under an assortment of clothes, a towel, a jacket, and some blanket... a bucket with a strainer lid to collect the impending rain... he chuckled at the cleverness but he understood the need to just survive. He turned to walk back to the others but something rooted him in place. He could practically taste the misery mixing with the rain. His throat tightened as it silently moved in foreign ways but he knew what he was trying to do... to mimic the noises they make at humans.

He lets out a dark chuckle as they were right... it really was something that he would know when it happened. Worry soon festered in his gut as his eyes roamed over her vehicle and while he hardly knew about how it worked he could see the signs of disrepair. His nose wrinkled for a moment as he unclipped his helmet from his hip, slipping it over his head as the rain finally let loose. He listened to the rain slap against the metal roof of the car, the way she moved inside her comfortable cocoon for a moment, and the way water was gathering in the bucket... Anrir had to do something.

You did your best to ignore the Night Lord that was hanging around. Affectionate bastards you were told as you remember those videos of just them being friendly. You shiver at the memory of that one gang member who thought he was so big... being homeless you quickly learned how sleeping near warbands meant that you had to ignore certain things... certain sounds especially at night. Astartes always scared you... you couldn't point to any incident that had happened involving them just that you got bad feelings from them... a certain type of dread. So it wasn't exactly like a fear of dogs but the way they looked and acted they were so human... why were they here... you make yourself look smaller as the Night Lord with what looked like a metal spider on his back sat next to you.

You hear him coo and trill at you trying to get your attention, his head tilting slightly as you could hear the slightly distorted trill to his voice from his helmet, and you did your best to ignore him. Eventually he did leave you alone and you had hoped that would be the last you saw him. But, every day for the next week he kept finding you... he would click and coo at you beckoning you closer with those armored claws of his. It was the last day in the week that you broke and approached him as you chose to fill your car with gas over eating and he had shown up with food. You feel tears gather with each bite as he trills down at you and you feel him hold you close... you hear his purr... you've seen this display online it was a bonding display. You do your best to not choak on the hot food as you can feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes, really the last thing you want is an Astartes bonding to you.

You feel the Astartis petting your head as you eat, trilling at you and you're certain if he wasn't in armor he would be purring. When you look up at him miserably he coos at you trying to sooth the clear distress you were in. His hands flexing each time you try to pull away from him, "You don't want me to be your bonded buddy," You finally speak up and that just breaks something in you and you feel those heavy tears roll down your cheeks even as you try to use the heel of your palm to rub your eyes clean they still fall, "I can't give you anything." Your voice cracks as you admit that.

Anrir sat there silently as you tried to reject the bond… he could feel it fraying at the edges like a lighter had been taken to it. But Anrir was calm even as his entire existence seemed to reel on its axis as you try to push it away. Your voice cracking gave way to the tears that ran down your face, his black eyes darting over your face as baselines crying was familiar to him given what he was but it felt so different… so wrong. Why are you letting her cry Anrir? A soft voice in the back of his mind seems to say. He could feel it fray more and more… but Anrir was aware that when a bond frays… it never attaches back normally. There was also a small high for him as would this be how he tasted death? Not after millennia of being alive just some mortal woman would be the death of him? He would have laughed if it actually broke but he pulled her against him and you did not make the effort to pull away… and so the bond repairs wrong. He did not need anything from you except you.

How you lean against him trying to hide away. So he was okay if you couldn’t give him anything now. He didn’t expect you to give him anything in the first place… but a wicked thought plants itself in his mind. Perhaps it was old fashioned… after all he watched the radical social changes in a mere 40 years and yet like always the Astartes remained unchanged. But… why couldn’t he provide for you? Anrir was a capable Astartes and he did not survive this long by chance but memories flicker by of how generous others were towards their humans. He grinned darkly as he could recognize the signs now… oh… he had intensely bonded to you… he had read the manuals and grimoires both in person and on the noosphere… he had helped write some of those too… so he knew what to look for in terms of side effects and was filing away mental notes about his deviances. And as much as he wanted to act on those feelings Anrir was patient, he was an Apothacarion after all, and his Dragă needed to be taken care of. He purrs and chirps at her to calm her down and gets her to finish her meal.

Thrones, credits, souls, cash… it was annoying dealing with baselines as most societies revolved around needing a good or currency for things and this was not their reality or time period where refusing an Astartes was suicidal. He noted his lack of desire to skin the man yelling at his Dragă to get him to stop “loitering”. But he, like most Astartes, relied on each other and the complex network and ecosystem they built like a parasite on the infrastructure of what was already there or was it the other way around? The Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists would say they laid out efficient infrastructure… but he found resources; since it was no longer allowed to simply take humans as serfs anymore and just have them live in a base full time… not that the Night Lords had one yet. It would be a few more years till the base was operational and that would be a mustering point for most Night Lords in the area. But Anrir noted how jumpy his precious Dragă got at the idea of getting help from Salamanders or staying in a shelter; he was fine with her choice. He wrinkled his nose as her car was falling apart and he couldn’t fit in it and him being a Night Lord did not help his goal of getting money. However, Anrir had a long reputation having worked in the Consortium with Bile too being a prominent figure in his legion’s hierarchy, no matter how much he tried to stay out of the politicking, so when the Alpharii approached him he wasn’t too surprised.

There were treaties and edicts that any Astartes had to agree to if they wanted to stay near the humans. Besides the obvious of not killing any humans; which before Anrir was bonded was a surprisingly hard ask, but they were not allowed to mettle with them. Technology was to be kept away from them at all costs, no extending their life spans, no augmetics beyond simple necessary prosthetics, and a few others. It all made sense as it was clear they were not ready at all for the horrors of the wider galaxy… no they would not play a hand into accidentally smothering humanity in the cradle because they helped them reach the stars earlier than they were ready for. But just like how human killers existed… and Night Lord trafficker Hunts happened… there was always some bending and breaking of these rules.

The Alpharii couldn’t help mettle in the affairs of the baselines, it was their legion’s expertise, they were information brokers and information hiders… they modified records to hide the sudden birth of a child from a woman and a Astartes… to all the way of covering up when forbidden technology falls into the hands of baselines and there needs to be a raid. They had their fingers in many pies as the saying goes… and Anrir could not play the moral high ground for their request. They weren’t supposed to extend the baselines lives… there was the crude method of giving them a transfusion of Astartes blood and hope they survive all the way to getting the chemicals and components needed for rejuvenation treatments. The latter took time to get what they needed as they could only synthesis so much being limited to what was only on this one planet; and it was hard to keep the Iron Hands from getting eager in “helping” them be able to colonize the Sol system.

But… Anrir looked down at the old corrupt man. Such greedy creatures humans could be and Anrir could never be like his kin who were able to see themselves as being above humanity… Anrir was far too aware of his own humanity and also his own lack of humanity too. “How do I know it will work?” The old man interrupts Anrir’s explanation of what he will be doing in transplanting his heart, “You could be some… con artist.” He says with malice in his frail voice.

Anrir never liked nobles… and he was always surprised at how… self important they could be. His smooth voice answers the question before one of the Alpharii can speak, “My reputation,” He had asked the Alpharii before this and he was not bonded to any of them… he was very much a pawn that the Alpharii weren’t ready to loose yet, “your… companions wouldn’t have gotten me if they doubted my skills. The heart is made for you so there is no chance of rejection.” He says truthfully as it was child's play growing the organ for him.

Anrir voxes one of the Alpharii, “As for my payment for this?” He hisses letting his displeasure bleed through as how dare he speak to Anrir in such a way.

“Everything is set up in ways that won’t tip off the government officials to the sudden influx of wealth. And conveniently set up so that if you choose to help us again…”

Anrir waved his armored hand over his shoulder as his medical mechadendrites unfolded like a spider on his back, “Yes yes you lot have me for several surgeries,” He goes through the process of setting everything for fine movements and working on humans, “But please be aware should anything go wrong in the payments that I can be quite spiteful.” He threatens and enjoys the place of power he is able to come from given how specialists are in such short supplies here and he is certain there is only one other Consortium member on the planet… he knows his expertise is invaluable he is certain he is on many lists to be kept alive.

“Of course Anrir.” Is all one says and that was good enough as Anrir headed into the prepared room.

You were happy that Anrir returned as he did keep you safe and maybe you were feeling those good vibes that people always say they get around Astartes. But now? You looked at what was holding out to you with apprehension. You’re sure that it was a thousand dollars in his hand and you felt hesitant to take it from him as no one just gives people money and not expecting something back… your spine crawls at a memory… He just sighs looking at you passively and perhaps a little annoyed, “Dragă. Go get your car looked at and get it fixed.” He says and you take the money from him as your AC had died and you’re certain that also meant your heating was gone… “Unless,” Your eyes returned to his face as your eyes picked up the bit of white at the roots of his sideburns, “You want to get a bigger vehicle?”

“But I can’t-” You start.

“Don’t worry about money for a second Dragă.” He says putting his hands on your shoulders.

You squirm under his gaze as you considered rejecting it as Anrir gave you such feelings that there was something else he was after… then again you never felt truly comfortable around Astartes… always a lingering sense of dread but… “Maybe… maybe we get something you can fit in as well. Wouldn’t that be nice?” You say softly as you’re certain those cars are far beyond what you can afford and from what you heard basically never break down.

You hold your breath for a moment as Anrir cups your face, you could hear him trill at you, as he grinned down at you with a smile that you’re certain the devil himself would envy, “What a thoughtful Dragă.” Was all he cooed at you.

After that, with much fussing from him, he made you use the money to stay in a motel for a week and you don’t remember when the last time you ate so much food. Anrir in the meanwhile took care of things. You were torn on letting him do such as wasn’t this the reason you had a fallout with your family? Your hands shake at the memories… he ruined your life. Yet while you’re certain Anrir is doing the same thing… it feels different. Anrir only suggested what you use the money for never using it to tell you what to do… Anrir confused you but you took comfort in the thought that he wanted something from you that he could get at your absolute lowest… everyone says bonds are precious things so maybe you should trust him more.

Anrir makes sure he always has enough money on him as he was making sure that there was a positive association in your mind that he was able to provide for you. The fuss you made when he got the car customized so that you could live out of it as long as you wanted, he hopped it wouldn’t be much longer, but it was your choice and all he could do was nudge his Dragă. The excitement he felt rush up his spine when he heard you say “Anrir” in a specific tone… a tone he associated with his Dragă needing something… Dragă needed him to provide. Sometimes you were like a skittish animal only staying for the exchange but sometimes you lingered like an animal and he could get what he wanted from you too. He felt that dopamine rush as you tolerated his touches, the joy he felt when you let him cup your face, how loudly he purred as you let him nuzzle you, petting your head, or rubbing your back. He could still see the hesitation in your eyes… he could tell you weren’t as (warp blind) (bond blind) as other humans were and Anrir is fine with that in fact it made this all the more enjoyable for him.

Winter always comes too soon and once again Anrir brings up places you can stay over the colder months and as hard as you try you still can’t get rid of the feelings that if you acquiesce he will want something. Anrir himself is disappointed that you wont ask him for much more; he does use winter to get something he does want. He finally gets to hold you for as long as he wants, usually your whole sleep cycle. He’s slept in far worse spots and just being a little cramped is hardly anywhere near the list of worst rests he has had. He purrs loudly as you’re glued to his side or his chest at night. Cooing to you as you drift off each night with a full belly in his arms. Its hard not to drift off with how he purrs and the rhythmic beating of his twin hearts… this feels like it’s going to be an easy winter for once so of course you get sick as a dog.

“Poor Dragă.” Anrir’s voice breaks you through your sick haze as the chills don’t help but Anrir being so warm helps. “I know you won’t like this suggestion but as a health specialist I do recommend that perhaps it is time for you to live inside more regularly again?” You can barely hear the quiet engine over the Heater going, Anrir not allowing you to fuss about anything right now once more saying he had it under control, “Arata mizerabil... (Miserable looking…)” He says in Nostroman letting his tongue click as you bury yourself closer to his chest, feeling those ports dig into your skin, “At least something temporary, yes?” He says sounding a little worried, “Wouldn’t that be nice? A temporary place to stay till you find what you want to do?”

“Daycare.” You croak out.

“Hmm?” Anrir looks down at you cocking his head to the side surprised you answered him.

“I want to take care of kids. I like taking care of kids. Don’t know why… so I want to start a daycare.” You say but you soon get weepy, “But who is going to let me do that. Look at me! I’m living in my car running away from my family and I can’t -” You stop your distressed rant as you cough and your nose plugs up again making it hard for you to breath and you can’t help but squirm in Anrir’s grip.

“Shh Dragă, I’ll take care of you.” Anrir says softly a uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice you weren’t expecting from a Night Lord, “You don’t need to worry anymore, Dragă.” Again it’s a soft and warmth to his voice you didn’t know he could have, “Do you trust me?” He asks in a tone you have trouble reading.

Bonds are supposed to be good things… that’s what everyone says… you have a companion for life… and you can tell that they get so much out of what we give them as they were clearly made for something far more violent. But… did you trust Anrir. No… you did not trust him as that feeling never goes away… “What do you want Anrir?” You finally say after a minute of silence.

“You, Dragă.” Anrir says quickly breathlessly.

Again you lay there silently thinking… you didn’t know what he wanted… was it really just being with you? You’ve been with him for months at this point and you couldn’t figure out what he wanted. You did research on bonds from what little you could find and everything kept coming back to just wanting to keep their bonded alive and safe. You were scared to let someone in your safe little world but you were so tired of keeping everything so tight to your chest. Maybe it was because you were sick but you nod and let out a heavy sigh softly saying, “I trust you Anrir.”

His reaction was immediate as he pressed his cheek to yours and you could feel the purring in your teeth as it was so loud, your finger bones felt like they were vibrating, but you didn’t feel the quick kisses that he leaves on your skin. You whimper at the sudden affection. It was anrir’s quirk as he was odd with his affection as whenever you would seek him out for affection he would smother you in his affection but you were okay with it because it was on your terms… your gut wouldn’t stop at the feeling that sometimes it was on his terms luring you in… He presses a kiss to your forehead trilling, his accent thick, “I don’t want you to worry any more my Dragă. I will take care of everything.” His black eyes seem to glitter in delight as he makes his declaration. And you just let go of that tension a bit more.

You don’t know how Anrir found this place, it had a horribly short lease but you knew that it was just to get you out of the weather… you’re certain this place wasn’t built for Astartes in mind so usually that meant they weren’t allowed. You guessed that the landlord looked the other way if said Astartes was paying in cash. It was small and cramped... but it was warm and you could store more than just a bit of food. You were sitting in the tub as Anrir sat on the side shirtless as his hands were massaging shampoo into your hair. You didn't need help with your hair but that didn't stop you from leaning into his hands as he helped you feel clean.

Anrir chuckled at your gentle groaning and moaning as it was clear you were enjoying yourself. He enjoyed helping you feel this way helping you clean and take care of you in this small way... he shivered as he was cleaning his Dragă... he wrapped his Dragă in a nice fluffy towel... he carried his Dragă to the bedroom and savored the laugh that left your mouth as he just tossed you onto the bed with a bounce.

You just laid there, eyes closed, enjoying yourself... sure there was only one bed which was fine as you had spent most of the winter snuggling up to Anrir in the car, it was not the most comfortable mattress in the world... the apartment was quiet...no it was never quiet not with the thin walls... but Anrir was quiet. You became aware of how you were just laying naked on the bed... alarms were going off in your head as you feel his smooth hands run over your knees, feeling his thumbs push into the side as he spreads your legs open slowly. This wasn't normal... and yet this felt like what everything was building up too... but you were always told that bonds were selfless things, right?

Your skin trembles as his hands move over your drying flesh, your breathing shivers, you can feel the bed shift as Anrir climbs onto it. Your throat bobs as you swallow the nervous energy but your eyes open as you feel the bare skin of his legs as he had divested himself of his pants. Anrir's silent still as he presses his scarred lips against your cheek, his body leaning over yours as he settles between your legs, and you feel his hand move to your chin to slowly turn you to meet him. His lips dragging against your flesh as the scarred flesh presses against your own lips. You were close enough that you could tell that his eyes were not fully black... you could see the dark blue of his iris darting with micromovements as he took in your face. But, you could see the predator in his eyes... but it was something more the term hyper-predator comes to mind because what monsters would someone like Anrir need to hunt?

Anrir presses his mouth to yours more and you close your eyes allowing the kiss to deepen. Anrir had been nothing but good to you... but you worry... would he use this against you? You desperately hope that he wouldn't. "Mina..." His voice rumbles like thunder as his hands drag across your flesh in a way that feels dominant and possessive. You can't stop the shuddering moan that leaves your mouth as his mouth moves against the front of your neck, licking the way your throat moves in its swallowing motion. "Toate ale mele… (All mine...)" He says whispering to you in a language that you don't know, "Fiecare parte din tine… toată a mea… trupul și sufletul tău. (Every part of you... all mine... your body and your soul.)" He says again as Anrir presses his cock against your entrance. His mouth continuing its worship of your neck and chin as you open your eyes slightly and just watch Anrir with lidded eyes. He cups your face as his tongue presses hard on your lower lip before pushing his tongue back into your mouth just kissing you hard.

You knew you had fringe thoughts about Astartes... Anrir was just proving to you one thing... that they were far too human to ignore. Far too human and far too predatory... you could never get that feel good emotion from Anrir... from any Astartes really. They were all predators... they were man made monsters made to fight monsters that you didn't know would exist beyond the silver screen of Hollywood or the writings of horror writers. He pulls his mouth away trilling at you and pausing when he sees the look on your face. You were looking at a predator looking at prey a malicious looking thing that tried to play the part of a friendly thing... a wolf playing the role of a dog. "Anrir."

"Yes Dragă." He says as a hand cups your face.

"What do you want?" You again ask... because... you don't think he's lying about the bond but this wasn't normal? You felt everything rushing anxiously to a point.

"You, Dragă." He says devotedly.

You were tired... so tired of being on your own for years before Anrir came. Oh how much Anrir had helped beyond just the money he gave you and the food... just being here... even if it was wrong... even if... you were so tired. You pull Anrir into a kiss as you didn't want to think anymore! You didn't want to worry any more... you whimper as Anrir just purrs loudly as you decide to let Anrir take care of it... take care of you... just for today you tell yourself as you melt into the embrace.

You feel the slight discomforting sensation of your walls spreading open as his cock slowly pushes in. When it becomes too much your hand or foot pushes against his chest which makes him stop till your brow stops furrowing and you for him to continue. This continues until his hips are flush with yours and Anrir hisses in delight, "Atât de strâns atât de bine cu mine… draga mea… a mea. (So tight so good to me... my dear... mine.)" You once more don't understand him but you decide to not worry about it as he starts moving. Your thighs burn slightly at the stretch to have them spread open wide for Anrir to thrust into you. Your eyes close as you focus on the feeling and enjoy that he doesn't ask you to look at him but that doesn't stop him from talking, "Mă simți fată frumoasă? (Do you feel me pretty girl?)" He trills in that unknown tongue, "Te concentrezi pe penisul meu din interiorul tău? (Are you focused on my cock inside of you?)" He asks something else perhaps not realizing or caring that you don't understand him.

He picks up the pace as he pants down at you and you just yowl and moan in pleasure. Porn making everything feel so fake when real sex sounds so unsexy at times but you had no need to make things sound sexy or be perfect. You could hear Anrir chuckle at an unflattering noise you make as he slams his hips into yours again making you repeat it. Eventually things feel tighter and more anxious as Anrir tilts you slightly so his cock pushes into you at a downward angle and you just laugh at the unflattering squeak and squawk that you make. Anrir laughs with you at all those weird and all those distinctively you vocalizations but you just don't care as no one is telling you that you're being unappealing... you throw your head back and arch up as you earned the right to not worry. You moan loudly moaning his name as you feel so good! You earned this reward! You deserve this... you deserve to just let go... you orgasm with little fan fair... just a simple gasp.

You feel so good... everything feels so good as Anrir continues to chase his release, the feeling of a bed against your back, the fuzzy climbdown from an orgasm, the oily drop of sweat from Anrir that lands on your shoulder, and the comforting stutter from him that stutter causes you to open your eyes to watch his brow furrow and you watch how surprisingly expressive he gets as he cums.

The apartment is mostly quiet... as quiet as you can get with thin walls... you lay there with him not thinking about anything... not thinking as you feel his cock softening against your inner thigh. He lets out a loud breath as he lays back in bed in his spot as you meanwhile are pushing away the worry about the consequences of sleeping with Anrir. You cuddle against his side, his arm wrapping around you, you feel the cum ooze out of you ... you're still tired of thinking... you're so tired of it... so tired of worrying why and what Anrir was doing for money... You put your head against his chest over his hearts ignoring the discomfort of the ports against your face... you just listen to the way his hearts beat.

Present day

You were in a much better spot than when you were a couple of years ago... you actually came into money, no it wasn't a rich distant relative dying but it was another person you had camped with when you were homeless. They had actually won the lottery and were being smart with it, which you think was more so their Ultramarine had helped in making smart choices. Though you had your suspicions... the Alpharii... a few seem to come by every few months some to coo at the kids, eager to find a bonded, and some to talk with Anrir as you watched them take containers from your home. But being given money you sudden just kept finding yourself with more money and it was stupid how much money you got after investing some of it... you didn't want to question it and Anrir was very good at distracting you.

Oh speaking of Anrir... he got you so many gifts. He would still give you random bouts of cash but he was finally acting more and more like how a bonded Astartis is supposed to act. You also were seeing how talented he was with his hands as besides his occupation you discovered his macabre hobby that all Night Lords seem to have... bone scrimshawing and taxidermy. You could point out all the time that he acted like a normal bonded Astartis and yet at the same time... how many gestures were more. You got outfits, jewelry, wines, your current house, and hell even your job you know he had a hand in financing... it spiraled out of control with his gifts that your friends noticed and asked who your 'sugar daddy' was or rather if he had any friends.

You smile warmly and wave goodbye as the last child finally gets picked up. You head back inside letting out a soft exhale and start picking up the room not getting very far into cleaning up when Anrir wraps his arms around you and purrs into your shoulder... purring into where he tattooed you years ago. You feel him give a playful tug onto the choker collar that he made for you, expensive thing and you know he liked you wearing it. You were lucky that no one asked you what Anrir was... everyone just assumed he was a Raven Guard...

"I can smell your worry Dragă." He says nipping your earlobe.

"I'm just tired Anrir."

"Then lets go home." He kisses your cheek.

"But I have stuff to pick up-"

"And this is why we hire others to clean," He says gentle cocking his head to the side, "You're worried about something." Anrir takes the toy from your hands as you pick at the seams.

You let out a heavy sigh bringing your thumb to your lips, "I'm just scared everything is about to go wrong." Anrir takes your hand to stop you from biting your nails.

"And if it does... I will take care of it." Anrir says with such certainty and authority that makes you believe him.

The breath in your chest you let out with a heavy sigh, "Okay." You nod.

He tugs on your choker bringing you close for a kiss as he trills softly, "I will always take care of you my frumoasă dragă (beautiful darling)." And you chose to believe it.

#space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer 40k #oc: Anrir #darling: Draga #carnal bond #intense bond #yandere bond #tw: smut #tw yandere #tw: obsessive behavior #I have been working on this for so long #the smut was debatable on adding it #but the longer this took to get out the more I was like #“Fuck it”#because momrad hasn't been able to write a lot #and so its like here's some smut guys #also Raven being super ovulating right now and just being unwell for my guy so yeah another thing to convince me to keep the smut in it #also sorry about the POV switching between Draga and Anrir #I enjoy letting people see what both of them think and feel and I know its probably messy but just... yeah #no beta we die like horus #no beta we die like sanguinius #no beta we die like ferrus #no beta we die like the emperor #these tags are a mess #these tags are getting silly #im just so happy that im finally done with this and can move onto other projects

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potatobugz · 2 years

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*picks you up and dips u in a vat of acid*

#south park #sp #pip pirrup #pip pirrip #damien thorn #dip #sp dip #dip is one of those sjips that i only enjoy if its outside of the canon . show if that makes sense #cuz otherwise like they were only in one episode 2gether and damien like. hated him #but *thinks about them anyways*#i mean as in. i only like it in rlly specific circumstances otheriwse id be indifferent toward it #these all mainly came about cuz im writing a damien and pip friendship fic thing #cuz id like to explore their dynamic actually (and also I WANT PIP TO BE HAPPY)#anyways i rewatched 'Damien' (the episode) so i could characterize him right and like honestly thats gotta be my fav episode in s1 #its fuckin hilarious #also DAMIEN MADE A CAMEO IN A LATER EOISODE AS LIKE A LITTLE EASTER EGG. HE WAS ON SUPER NANNY. LIEK THE TV SHOW #KM CRYING ITS FUCKING AMAZING #i love damien like ppl characterize him as being pissed off all the time and while yea technically true #he feels a lot more. immature to me #hes literally like an angsty little kid and the onyl reason he set pip on fire was to impress the 'cool kids' one might say #cuz hes weird and no one liked him #but i like him.#his weirdness is captivating #damien meeting the lame loser kid that he doesnt like and befriending him cuz they actually have a lot in common #(and damien is very very lonely)#also pip deserves a good cry honest to god #i want. him to be happy. nyow #i want damien 2 be happy too tbh #potatart

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sugoi-writes · 5 months

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I thought I would take a crack at some Rosie drabble/smut, because @bat-boness and this amazing piece of ass I mean art

Oral, female receiving. Lots of build up, tension, and Rosie being Rosie. TEEHEE

You were nervous, eyes wide with lust, but also full of... anxiety. Rosie had been around for a very long time. She was a mature woman, a tall glass of water, and most troubling:

She knew exactly what she wanted, and when she wanted it. And if she didn't like it, she'd be the first to let you know. Or worse...

Pleasing any overlord would be a daunting task. But seeing a disheveled yet level-headed femme fatale settling on the edge of your bed made your breath hitch.

You were lightly pushed onto your back, sputtering as her silken, black slip gown was thrown to your face. You resisted the urge to inhale the scent. The offer of her perfume and natural smell mingling in your nose was a very tempting notion...

You cast the garment aside, eyes still wide, before your jaw practically hits the floor. There before you, the demoness was clad in nothing but modern undergarments, adorned in adorable cannibal skulls and iconography. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, your core seizing at the sight.

Rosie could see you worry, and immediately her expression turned mischievous. Her shoulders shimmy back and forth slowly as her fingers hook into the hem of her panties, teasingly shifting the hem lower and lower. Your mouth ran dry as the bones of her pelvis shifted, her cunt nearly bare before you.

"Don't be scared, Doll... Let Ms. Rosie take care of you~"

You were rendered speechless as the panties were pulled down to her knees, her velvet, porcelain cunt on full display. You may not have been a cannibal, but you wanted to feast on the sight before you like a crooked vulture. You subconsciously lick your lips, sitting up on your elbows as she rids herself of the panties entirely. She makes a big show of reaching behind her back, brows raised as she bites her dark lip. The both of you sigh in unison when her bra comes unclasped, mounds bouncing resolutely. The pale overlord practically giggles, playfully rocking her tits back and forth with another sensual shimmy. You were unabashed, eyes following her movements with an intense desire. You wanted to pop her hardened nipples directly in your mouth, suckling and biting them until she saw white...

"Doll~ It's rude to stare, you know~"

You snap back to your senses, a heavy sigh leaving you," Rosie... I don't ask for much..." Rosie tilts her head at you as your eyes dart downward, focusing on her wet, glistening heat. Your fists ball up as your sides, knuckles turning white as you dare to not look away.

"Please, for the love of Satan, sit on my face."

A surprised snort, a laugh, and then... a scarlet blush adorns her delicate face. Oh, you were serious.

Rosie practically purrs as she watches your eyes dilate, unable to look away from the junction between her thighs. A dark, mischievous chuckle brings your eyes to her face. She crawls over to you, trailing wet, open mouthed kissing up your body, starting at your knees. You sigh at every point, hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment. When she makes her way to your jaw, she smiles down at you, eyes full of a sensual gleam. Your hands are removed from your face, giving you the chance to look into her eyes. You see your disheveled reflection in them, practically moaning at the sight.

"Careful, Dollface..."

She pushes you hard onto your back, scooting upward until she straddles your head. Her aching core was dangling just above your welcoming face, puffy and ready for the taking.

"You won't be able to stop once you get a taste~"

She wails with surprise as her cunt is slammed onto you mouth, her head thrown back in rapture. You dig your nails into her hips, locking her in place. She grabs fist fulls of your hair, hissing as your tongue lapped at her clit desperately.

You didn't mind the growling and the tugging at your scalp. There was a deep, animalistic part of you that hoped this would never stop. And you wouldn't, until the overlord bowed to your whim, unable to do anything but scream and whine your name.

#rosie x reader #rosie x you #rosie x y/n #rosie hazbin hotel #rosie hazbin hotel fanfic #ahahahaha im really fucking GAY #which may surprise a lot of you since i most write about fiction men #lmao #anyways i really hope yall enjoy this #teeheehee~

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hoshiina · 2 months

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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: Hii im the anon who ask for the wips and i saw the blurbs you have. IM VERY MUCH HOOKED with the third ones where hoshina loves reader's smile🥹 relating to that maybe i would like to add(if you want, but feel free to do seperate if you want) soft moments with hoshina x reader who felt like she being the most pessimistic person regarding love(not anti but just felt like she doesn't deserve it) so she is on denial when hoshina make a move on her

notes: reader is usually rather energetic, talkative reader, hoshina thinks you are "beautiful" at some point, TYSM FOR THE REQ!! sorry it took so long omg

wc: 1300

Something was wrong— terribly wrong. There was no way someone would want you, let alone your vice-captain who could have anyone in the world. Not your vice-captain who did everything with such care and looked after everyone so preciously. And definitely never your vice-captain you were terribly in love with.

There must be some mistake. Or else he wouldn’t have just said what you thought he said.

“Pardon me?” you asked.

He looked a little flustered and you had never seen such an expression on him, confusing you further. “I love you,” he said again, softly. “I’d love to know if you’re in a relationship.”

The way he spoke so carefully added to how nervous it made you feel— it was so different from how he usually talked to you. Now, you were lost to say the least, because you couldn’t think of one reason why he would like you, let alone romantically. Under normal circumstances, you’d assume you were being played with or that this was a silly prank or dare, but you knew that Hoshina wasn’t one to do something so horrible. So what was happening?

“I am not…” you said, still confused, but the visible relief in his eyes made your heart tighten. Oh gosh, is he serious?

“I’m… thrilled,” he said, and he wished you goodnight and left. While you were terribly flustered to know he liked you back, there was a voice in your head that wouldn’t stop making you feel anxious. Something felt so odd to you— to be loved back. To be loved back by him. You enjoyed talking to people so you talked to him often, but never had you thought he'd think of you like that. Having a naturally talkative personality, it was true that both of you had fun talking to each other, but you had accepted that your love was unrequited ages ago. When would he have possibly fallen in love with you? The more you thought about it the more impossible it sounded. As thoughts of him circled your head, it’d be morning before you knew it.

It'd be hard for him to point out exactly when he fell in love with you, because he was in love before he knew it. Before he knew it, he'd catch himself following you with his eyes. He adored watching you work, because you made everything look exciting. Of course, he saw how you groaned at the paperwork you had to do, but he'd see how the little things would put a smile on your face.

He liked the work he did, he liked all of it quite frankly. From neutralizing kaiju all the way down to the research he had to do— rarely did he think something was a chore to do, but if you were around to laugh at something silly he found or mutter about the binders and binders of files that the 3rd division just doesn't have space for anymore, he'd start looking forward to these moments.

While he knew you were like this with everyone, he hoped that you were happiest with him. It would mean everything to him if you looked forward to doing seemingly mundane work with him too.

However, while he loved so much about you, there was one moment specifically that made him realize he wasn't moving on. His heart would be yours forever at this rate. You'd look so horribly tired after all this work, and yet, if someone needed help with anything at all, you'd still smile and ask them what's wrong. You'd find the energy and speak to them so kindly. You might not have the energy you usually had, but you'd be so happy to help. Even if they couldn't tell how exhausted you were, he could. He knew how much you did for everyone in the division, and he thought you were stunning when you did so. You were the most beautiful when you had that lovely smile on your face that seemed to light up his world.

He loved you so dearly.

You loved talking to people, so there always seemed to be something for you to talk about. A new finding you wanted to share or a terribly random thought that popped up in your head. While you naturally talked to most of the people in the division, you looked forward to talking to Hoshina the most. The way he'd always listen so intrigued at your dumbest thoughts and laugh at the smallest things you said meant more to you than one would probably think.

And if you shared your daily happenings with him, he'd share his with you too. To say you loved these moments would truly be an understatement. Nothing could possibly make you happier.

However, you knew he was like this with everyone. His laugh would always manage to keep the morale of the division up and he'd never miss potential problems in the condition of any of his officers. You knew he was a sweet person, but also the best one could ask for in a vice-captain. You weren't special— he was like this to everyone. You knew better than anyone else.

You couldn't imagine anyone falling for you, let alone the kindest person you'd ever meet in your life. Let alone the person you'd probably love for the rest of your life.

Yet, here you were, alone with him this afternoon working away through paperwork and it was quiet. Eerily quiet. He was the first to break the silence.

“I rather dislike the rain,” he said, looking out the window. “It’s been raining all day.”

You paused to look outside as well. “No, you’re right. I don’t mind the rain, but I hate how dark everything is.”

“Yeah,” he said. More silence.

“Sorry, I’m awkwardly nervous now,” he said, eyes fixed on his work. “I didn’t mean to make things… weird.”

You could tell he probably didn’t want you to, but you couldn’t help but look his way. Your eyes widened and your heart filled. You weren’t afraid to say much, but you were afraid to talk about this. However, you thought you’d be able to if you were talking to him.

“I just… can’t imagine that you’re… in love… with me,” you said, looking down at your paperwork. “Sounds too good to be true. I know... sounds unlike me, right?”

Immediately he looked up at you, shocked to say the least. You could tell he probably wanted to ask why, but he thought for a moment more.

“What… would I be able to do to show that I am?” he asked. “You’re the one I love… you always will be.”

Your eyes widened. “I just… don’t know why,” you said honestly. “Why me?”

“Because I love you,” he said. “I love a whole lot about you, but I love being with you. I enjoy spending time with you and watching you enjoy the life around you. Is that too simple?”

It took you a second to reply, but you felt a lot better. “No, not at all,” you said. “Because I feel exactly the same way.”

“You’re kidding”

“Absolutely not”

“I’m going to kill you if you’re lying,” he said.

That made you laugh. “You know I wouldn’t,” you said, and yes, he knew you wouldn’t.

“Hey, Hoshina,” you said, avoiding eye-contact. “If I get worried… will you tell me again?”

“I’d tell you until you get sick of my voice,” he said while getting up to kiss your forehead. “I love you so much.”

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aroaceleovaldez · 2 months

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i would like to say my ideal PJO adaptation (if i was being physically forced against my will to have to pick a live action adaptation over an animated one for some reason) would be a combo like writing of the musical + casting of the show + visuals of the movies

BUT the show actually does have the playwright for the musical as one of the major writers for like three episodes and that did nothing for it. so...

#pjo #riordanverse #pjo tv crit #i do love the casting for the musical lots and lots though #it was really good #i do also have some nitpicks for show casting but they're largely inconsequential #like majority i very much enjoy and think are cast well #i only have one i'd say im actually disappointed with and that's Poseidon. idk he just feels. bland??? does that make sense?#like idk maybe it's the costuming but im not getting Sea God *or* Fishing Dad from him #like i think i kinda see what they were going for and i saw some gifs of him in another show where he plays a pirate and its like #okay. *little* bit better. but idk im just not getting Poseidon from it #in general most of the immortals in the show dont feel very Immortal(tm) but thats definitely mostly just the writing/show itself #not any reflection of the casting #my only other two are i would have liked plus sized Clarisse. i am VERY sad we didnt get that #Dior is a VERY good Clarisse though so i'm not too upset about it. i like her Clarisse energy. the yelling is fantastic.#my most controversial pjo tv take is im still meh on Walker. like he's fine. but like he's kind of Just Fine to me so far #its probably mostly the writing being bad but he hasnt grown on me as Percy yet. i can tell he has the energy though in interviews n stuff #and the main trio dynamic in interviews and stuff is *very* good. i just wish the show writing was better #because the casting IS very good but they have so little to work with. you can really tell theyre trying their best #i like to joke the show would be better if they just set the cast loose in the woods doing in-character improv #like its clear basically all of them know their characters SUPER well. id watch 8 episodes of in the woods pjo cosplay improv.

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 10 months

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okay, this is a halfway to 7k unedited fantasy au snippet! Out Of Context as usual!

some warnings for this one: blood, gore, major character injury, graphic description of injury <3 i had fun w/ it not sorry <3

The front door slams open, stalling all conversation inside. A flash of lightning illuminates the two forms huddled in the doorway, one considerably larger than the other.

Barnaby staggers a half-step inside, dripping water all over the floor. That alone has Howdy putting down the glass and moving across the bar to better assess the situation. Eddie is struggling to support Barnaby’s listing weight, and both of them are clutching at Barnaby’s belly. They’re both soaked through.

Someone gasps, and the folks seated nearest to the door stand and back away, muttering in alarm. Howdy’s stomach plummets. Some of the water puddling on the floor is too dark to be just that. Barnaby’s front, under where his massive paw is clutched, is drenched dark as well.

Eddie catches his eye - he looks wild with fear.

“Out!” Howdy thunders. “Everyone out! I don’t care about your tabs or if you’re not done - if you have a room, go there, if you don’t, scram!”

Some people cast him and Eddie dirty looks, but they start to get up, grumbling all the while. Howdy couldn’t care less. Not when Barnaby is leaning so heavily on Eddie, his breathing so labored that Howdy can hear it amidst the shuffle and scrape of patrons leaving.

“What happened?” Julie yells, running across the room from the neighborhood booth.

“Make sure everyone gets out,” Howdy says, redirecting her. Julie doesn’t look happy about it, but she complies. The patrons start to clear out faster with her aggressive ‘assistance’. Howdy throws his drying towel off to the side and nearly vaults over the bar to help support Barnaby. He reaches to sling Barnaby’s other arm over his shoulders-

“Don’t!” Eddie cries. He doesn’t let go from the wound, and Barnaby cringes away from Howdy with a breathy echo - “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Howdy says, panic rising in his throat. He looks closer at the wound Barnaby and Eddie are holding - this time he has to swallow down bile. Glistening, blood-slicked pink pulses under their hands. Barnaby whines softly. He’s terribly pale under his fur.

“Everyone’s gone!” Julie announces.

Howdy snaps out of his horrified trance. He points at the bar. “Clear a spot on the floor for him on the floor, make sure we have room to work.”

Julie makes a frustrated noise but complies once again. Howdy slips around to Eddie’s side and trades places with him, but Eddie doesn’t let go of the wound. The sudden weight makes Howdy stumble, but he quickly widens his stance and starts shuffling them to the area Julie is clearing. They help Barnaby lower to the ground, and every pained whine and gasp is like an arrow to the heart. Eddie whispers apologies all the way down. Barnaby’s free paw leaves scratches in the bar’s cherry wood.

“Ed, I need you to get my supplies from my room,” Howdy says, rolling up his sleeves with quick, expert flicks.

Eddie looks at him like he’s crazy. “I can’t let go!”

“I’m here to take your place - four arms are better than two, now get!”

Eddie still hesitates, but slips away once Howdy puts all four of his hands where Eddie’s measly two were. It’s hot, and wet, and - and -

It becomes immediately clear that this is a wound they can’t fix, not without an extraordinarily talented healer.

“Julie,” Howdy chokes out, “get Poppy.”

“Okay,” Julie says faintly, right behind him. She slowly backs away, and all at once sprints for the front door. A burst of fresh, rain-filled air blows inside before the door closes again. The cold shock makes Barnaby flinch and gasp.

“Hold on, Barn.” Howdy forces himself to look at Barnaby’s face instead of the pulsing guts bulging from the gash someone sliced across his belly. The soaked fur under and around it looks purple. “Help will be here in a jiff, so don’t you go falling asleep on me.”

“Tryin’,” Barnaby wheezes, and his voice has never sounded so much like music, “tryin’ not to. It’s - stars, it hurts, Howdy-”

“I know, but you gotta hang in there, pal. Poppy will fix you right up.”

“I…” Barnaby makes a wretched noise that sounds like a sob, “I don’t wanna die.” He whines, a leg weakly kicking out as his guts twitch. “M’ not ready, Howds, m’ not…”

“You’re not going to die,” Howdy insists even as Barnaby’s blood soaks his hands and sleeves.

He doesn’t want Barnaby to die, either, but who knows where Poppy is - there’s no guarantee that she’s home, and even if she is, her abode is clear across town. Julie is a fast runner, but in this weather… with such a distance…

Barnaby is going to die.

Howdy will do his damned best to keep that from happening.

Clattering precedes Eddie sprinting around the corner. He checks the bar hard, but doesn’t fall or flinch. He takes the hit and slides to his knees by Barnaby’s side and opens the pack. Howdy almost reaches out to rummage through it himself, but Barnaby’s paw starts to slip from the wound.

“No no, none of that.” Howdy nudges it back into place with his knee and tries to jostle Barnaby with the same motion. “Eyes open and paw up, Barn.”

“Tryin’,” Barnaby whispers. His eyelids flutter in a vain attempt to stay open. His breathing rattles.

Howdy doesn’t need to tell Eddie what to look for, and thank the heavens for that, because Howdy doesn’t think he can look away from Barnaby’s pained features, much less form words that aren’t incoherent prayers to any god that will listen. Barnaby’s paw slips, and Howdy has to lunge to keep his insides from becoming his outsides. Just his hands aren’t enough - he needs to use his forearms. There’s so much of it.

Eddie scoots forward and holds up a potion, and Howdy nearly howls in anguish. “Not that one! The healing potions - the red ones!”

“I know that!” Eddie snaps just as viciously, which is enough of a shock that Barnaby gains a moment of startled clarity. Eddie uses it to coax him to drink the golden energy potion. “I have some healin’ powers of my own - I can buy him more time than your bruise busters, and you’re fresh out of those, anyway!”

Out?

Howdy stares at his pack in horror. That’s right. He hasn’t restocked - oh, he’s a fool! He allowed himself to grow complacent and reliant on Eddie and Poppy’s healing. He has no time to thoroughly curse his inaction, as Barnaby’s paw comes back up to the wound, and his back arches as he wails his agony. The potion kicked in. Eddie quickly shoves his paw away again and holds his hands to the corner of the gash, his palms glowing orange.

“Oh, oh no,” Barnaby sobs, his boots and claws scraping wood, “Ed, stop-!”

“I’m sorry,” is all Eddie says. He shoves Barnaby’s paw aside when he tries to pry Eddie away. Barnaby grabs for the nearest thing with his other paw, which happens to be Howdy’s thigh. Howdy bites back a pained hiss at the feeling of claws digging sharp through his pants. The cold water saturating Barnaby’s paw soaks the fabric in seconds, creating a contrast to the pinpricks of hot welling up under the claws.

Howdy eyes the healing glow and the strain on Eddie’s face. It won’t be enough - Howdy doubts it will give Barnaby any time at all. The thin corner of the gash slowly knits together, but the rest of it is too wide, too deep. The only reason Eddie can heal any of it at all is due to how clean the slice is. The blade that created this wound must have been freshly sharpened, or enchanted. Howdy can tell at a glance that it cut through Barnaby like a knife through marmalade.

Eddie heals the other tapered end. He and Howdy exchange a glance - Howdy sees it in his eyes that the healing is just a platitude. Blood continues to soak Barnaby’s pants, Howdy’s, their hands, Howdy’s clothes, the floor.

Abruptly, Howdy is keenly aware of how quiet the tavern is. Rain drums on the roof and thunder rolls outside. The fireplace crackles. How long will it take to scrub the blood out of the wood flooring? How long will Howdy spend staring at the scratches etched into the bar?

“How- Howdy,” Barnaby says. He isn’t gripping Howdy’s leg as hard anymore, but he gives it a weak squeeze. “Gotta tell ya - hng - somethin’. Shoulda… told ya sooner, but-”

“Save it for later,” Howdy says quickly. “You can gab all you want when you’re better.”

There likely won’t be a later, or better, and that’s half the problem. Call Howdy selfish, but he won’t let Barnaby make this hurt more than it already does. More than it will. He would rather live with a might’a than a could’a.

Barnaby knows it, because his eyes mist up and he nods weakly. “Yeah. When I’m… when I’m better. Can I ask a fa-favor?”

“Anythin’,” Eddie murmurs. Howdy had forgotten he’s there.

“Find Wally for me?”

Eddie lays a bloody hand on Barnaby’s arm, steely determination flashing in his eyes. “We will. I swear it on my patron’s light.”

“That’s a…” Barnaby pauses to grimace and swallow thickly, “a big promise, Ed.”

“I’ll make sure he keeps it,” Howdy says.

“M’ sure you will. But, but… if Wally really is gone… hey, I’ll say hi to ‘em for ya.” Barnaby manages a shaky half-smile. “At least that’d be one - one good thing ta’ come outta this, huh?”

Howdy’s composure cracks. He chokes down sobs as he slumps over Barnaby, uncaring of the awkward position or the insides sandwiched against his front, drenching his apron and shirt with blood. He hides his tears in Barnaby’s cold, waterlogged ear. Barnaby uses what little strength he has left to turn his head, weakly nuzzling the side of Howdy’s face. His breath is warm. Weak, but warm.

Distantly, Howdy hears Eddie curse and ask “Where are they?” The clink of his armor fades, and the door opens just enough to let in the scent of rain. Howdy hears more than feels Barnaby breathe it in. As close as they are, Howdy can hear the wet rattle in Barnaby’s chest.

Should Howdy do something to make him more comfortable? Would Barnaby’s herbs ease his pain? Even if it would, if anything would, Howdy can’t let go. That would hurt him more, and Howdy refuses to give up that tiny sliver of hope that something can be done.

The door slams open to let in a thunder of footsteps. Howdy snaps upright, and he’s certain that if he didn’t have a job to do, he’d collapse.

“Oh dear, oh-” Poppy squawks loud enough to make everyone cringe, her feathers fluffing up. “My feathers, that’s! Oh! That is much worse than what you told me!”

“One can hardly fault her,” Sally says before Julie can respond. She kneels by Howdy with Poppy right behind her. “Are you with us, Barnaby?”

No response.

Howdy goes cold. “Barn?”

Sally briskly taps Barnaby’s cheek until he twitches, his eyelids barely lifting before falling shut once more. “Still with us!”

If Howdy wasn’t already crying, he’d start now.

“Can you fix it?” Eddie asks from off to the side.

Julie paces anxiously. “Of course she can! Poppy’s the best healer for miles, there’s nothing she can’t do. Right, Poppy? He’ll be up and joking in no time!”

“I.” Poppy’s feathers shake as she dances them over the open wound. “I will most certainly try, but I can’t do it on my own. It’s too severe for my magic to do much of anything. Sally, dear-”

“No,” Sally says immediately, her glow dimming. “You cannot be serious, I won’t - I simply will not-”

“You must. We all need to work together - Howdy and Eddie need to hold the wound shut. It won’t just be you.”

“We need to what now?” Eddie says, even as he settles on Howdy’s other side. “What’s going on?”

Howdy feels sick. “You and I have to make sure his insides stay inside, while Sally will-”

“Sally won’t,” Sally says. “As much of a nuisance as he likes to make himself, Barnaby is my friend! I could never-”

“Then you’re alright with losing him!”” Howdy snarls. “Perhaps you’d like to trade places with me and feel him die under your hands instead!”

Sally gapes at him, stricken. Her mouth flaps for a moment before she shuts it firmly and turns to the wound, lifting her hands.

“What does she have to do?” Julie asks.

Everyone ignores her - not out of unkindness. Poppy nods to Eddie and Howdy. Eddie places his hands in the spaces where Howdy can’t completely reach. They exchange a glance and push.

There was a time when Howdy received an overpacked shipment of linked sausages. He had no room to store it yet, but the sack it arrived in tore. Shoving them back in - even with all four of his hands - was nigh impossible. It was impressive how the sausages had managed to fit at all, because the sack was certainly too small.

Shoving Barnaby’s guts back into his stomach is a lot like that.

Barnaby cringes and moans in his nearly-unconscious state, feebly trying to get away from what is certainly agonizing pain. His brow bunches up, and he whines high in his throat.

Howdy can’t spare a thought to it. Blood and organs squelch as Howdy and Eddie rush to cram it all inside - there’s no time for caution. As soon as the last slip of pink is inside - it’s so, so dark and red past the blue - they squeeze the wound shut to the best of their abilities. Barnaby sobs quietly.

“Now,” Poppy says, and Sally’s palms burn hot enough to make Howdy’s skin itch.

She holds her hands to the sealed gash, and Barnaby starts wailing. Too weak to thrash, he just writhes softly and keens, tears freely spilling down his face and carving dark tracks in his drying fur. His paw twitches around Howdy’s leg, claws digging in again like he wants to grab or yank or something.

“Almost there, Barn,” Howdy lies. Part of him wishes Barnaby would fall fully into unconsciousness. It would be dangerous, but at least he wouldn’t feel this.

The acrid stench of burning fur and flesh fills Howdy’s nose. Sally and Eddie both gag. Heels rapidly click across the tavern as Julie sprints to the nearest waste bin, and she retches loudly into it. Howdy barely registers it - he’s barely breathing, himself.

“Well done, all of you,” Poppy murmurs as Sally cauterizes. She holds her wingtips to the cooked flesh of the wound as Sally continues, and they glow coal red. The wound glows with it, the angry blistered flesh smooths and pales, and blue fur starts to grow back before their eyes.

Barnaby’s paw falls from Howdy’s leg as he starts to slump, cries petering off into agonized whines. Poppy doesn’t seem alarmed, and Howdy just wants his pain to stop, so no one moves to keep him awake.

Soon, Sally has to shuffle in front of Howdy and Eddie to continue. They’re loath to move, so she awkwardly lies across their laps and reaches. As soon as she burns her way to the end that Eddie healed, Poppy gives them the all-clear.

Eddie lets go first, slumping back on his heels. Sally is still draped across Howdy’s lap with her head pillowed on Eddie’s. The three of them catch their breath as they watch Poppy brush her healing feathers across Barnaby’s stomach. Julie staggers over to them and kneels next to Eddie. She leans against him, sniffling. Howdy doesn’t have it in him to protest when Eddie not only loops an arm around her shoulders, but around Howdy’s waist as well.

Barnaby is finally unconscious, his features slack - Howdy places a hand on his chest to make sure, and the shallow rise and fall of it is more priceless than all the coin in the world. Howdy slowly sits. His hand trails down as Poppy pulls her wings back, and his fingertips dance on the silvery smooth line of a fresh scar.

“I’ve done all I can,” Poppy says with a gusty sigh. “So have the rest of you - again, well done. You all did splendidly.”

“I don’t feel splendid,” Sally croaks.

“Well… you are. Quite splendid. Let’s get him up and to a bed.” Poppy’s first attempt at standing fails. Sally all but leaps up to help support her, and she laughs nervously. “I’m afraid that took quite a bit out of me. There was more to heal than I expected, dear me.”

“Will he be okay?” Julie asks.

Poppy looks at Barnaby with a soft, sad look in her eyes. “I can’t say for certain. It’s up to Barnaby, now… all we can do is make sure he’s comfortable. A-and keep a close eye on him! There could be, ah… complications. Infections, and the like. Mh, I’m sure it won’t come to that, though. Sally’s fire should have burned out anything nasty.”

Howdy belatedly realizes that he needs to help carry Barnaby. He kneels on shaky legs and gently maneuvers Barnaby’s dead wei- unconscious weight to the side. Howdy slips his upper arms under Barnaby’s, using his lower set to help support his back. Eddie takes one side, Sally and Julie take the other. Poppy does her best to help, but she can only lift Barnaby’s unbloodied leg with her beak.

They shuffle their way to a ground floor room. There’s plenty, but Howdy once again chooses to be selfish and brings them to one near to his own. Near is subjective - Howdy lives on the second floor, but the staircase to his private suite is as close to Barnaby’s temporary room as it can get. Barnaby will be sleeping right below Howdy. If anything happens, he’ll hear.

They get Barnaby onto the bed, and all of them breathe sighs of relief - and mild pain, in Eddie’s case as he stretches his back. Poppy asks for Julie to stay and assist her with getting Barnaby adjusted.

Howdy doesn’t wait for a dismissal. He stumbles his way out of the room with Sally and Eddie in tow, his heart jackrabbiting. It feels like he grabbed hot coals, or swallowed a bolt of lightning. He’s shaky and ill and he just held Barnaby’s intestines in his hands.

Howdy leans over the bar and blindly grabs a bottle from underneath it. He uncorks it with his mouth, spits the cork to the side, and starts chugging. The alcohol burns as it goes down. It’s cheap, bitter, and easy to focus on. He comes up for breath with a small gasp and coughs, wincing at the aftertaste.

Cleaning supplies clatter as Eddie brings them out of the supply closet - Howdy wasn’t aware he knew where that was. It’s just a bucket of water and a scrubber. Not that he’ll do much good. He’s still caked in blood and mud. Dishes clink as Sally cleans up the ample messes that the patrons left behind. Howdy takes another swig and stares blankly at the shelf behind the bar.

The blank eyes of the Wally-puppet stare back at him. At least the real Wally wasn’t here to see that. Howdy doesn’t know what he would have done, or how he would have reacted… best not to imagine. In any case, Howdy hopes that by the time they find Wally, this whole experience will be nothing but another story.

Howdy goes to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand - oh. Right. It’s still covered in blood. All four of them are. The blood glistens when Howdy holds out his hands. It’s warm and tacky, clinging to his fingers like sap as he spreads them.

It’s Barnaby’s blood.

These hands were inside of Barnaby’s gutted stomach, and Howdy can still feel the sickening heat and the way it all pulsed and twitched and-

Howdy copies Julie’s example and vomits into the nearest acceptable receptacle. The alcohol tastes better going the other way, even if it burns worse.

Once the dry heaving stops, Howdy sinks to the ground, shaking with silent sobs. His legs curl up and he presses the heels of his upper hands to his forehead, hugging himself with his lower arms. The crimson-soaked fabric of his shirt squishes and sticks to his skin.

Everything Sally carries rattles, and every few minutes something falls. Chipped cups, shattered plates, clattering platters. After each breakage, she picks up the shards and keeps clearing the tables. The constant swish, swish, swish of scrubber bristles on wood fill the silence between rattling dishware and rolls of thunder. Eddie scrubs at the one spot on the floor, where Barnaby sat. The water he pours and scrubs quickly turns pink, then red.

The door opens, letting in yet another gust of air. It slowly closes, and Frank’s shrill voice cries out, “What in the heavens happened in here?”

Anger rises sharply in Howdy’s gut - and vanishes as soon as it came. There’s no use in being mad at Frank - they didn’t explicitly go with Eddie and Barnaby on their day trip. He was gathering information. There was no way he could have known what would happen.

Frank belatedly notices the thick trail of blood on the floor, and sidesteps it before rushing to Eddie. “Is everyone okay? Who’s hurt? That’s not your blood, is it-”

“It’s not mine,” Eddie says, not looking away from his task. Swish, swish, swish. When Frank reaches for him, he waves them off. “Stay back, it’s a mess. I’ll take care of it - I’m taking care of it.”

He isn’t taking care of it.

Frank takes a step back, his eyes wide enough that Howdy can see the whites of them clear across the tavern. Frank looks over the trail of blood, the puddle, bootprints, the smeared handprints, and the sheer amount coating not only Eddie, but Howdy too. Sally doesn’t make a move to acknowledge Frank as she stacks wood platters and ceramic plates. More blood stains her from where she kneeled in it, and laid across Howdy and Eddie.

A scraaaaape precedes Julie backing into the tavern proper with a large tub of steaming water. Howdy makes a desperate sound and scrambles over to it. He thrusts his arms into the water and scrubs furiously at his skin and sleeves, ignoring the burn of the slightly too-hot temperature. Julie’s stare sears into him for only a moment before she takes a shuddering breath and steps out of the splash zone.

“Frank!” she says a touch too loudly, oozing false cheer. “You’re back! Did you find anything?”

“Did I - what does that matter! Julie, what’s going on?”

“Oh, Barnaby got a little hurt, but he’s resting now.”

Frank incredulously gestures to the tavern’s general state. “A little hurt?”

“Barnaby’s fine now,” Julie reiterates. “Poppy is taking care of him.”

“How did - why did - what -”

Howdy slowly stops scrubbing. His skin feels raw under his fuzz as he stands, water sluicing from his arms. He unties his apron as he returns to the bar and tosses it over a stool. He sits on the one next to it and snatches the open bottle of - whatever it is. It’s alcohol. That’s what matters. He rests his head in his hands between acrid swigs.

“Everything is okay! Poppy is the best healer around, it’s nothing she can’t handle,” Julie chirps. No one calls her out on the proven lie. She starts collecting straggling dishes alongside Sally. “We’re just helping Howdy clean up.”

In his periphery, Howdy catches Frank side-eyeing him. He chugs from the bottle for a moment and slams it back down, if only to make a point. Frank is the only one to jolt at the sharp bang.

Frank slowly crouches by Eddie, frowning deeper than normal. He mutters something too quiet for Howdy to hear from the other end of the bar. Eddie says something back - Frank lays a hand on his shoulder, and Howdy scowls miserably into his drink. His thigh itches.

Swish, swish- the scrubber finally stills. Eddie shoots to his feet, his armor clattering loudly, and he steadies himself against the counter as his other hand flies to his forehead. “Oh no. Oh, no…”

Everyone stills, and the tension in the room thickens palpably.

“What is it?” Frank asks.

Eddie looks at Howdy with horror in his eyes. “We lost Wormie. Barn dropped his hat when we were ambushed - there was no time to stop. We couldn’t…”

“Show me,” Howdy says, leaping off of his stool and charging for the door. Eddie follows hot on his heels.

The rain is freezing. It soaks Howdy through to the bone as soon as he steps out from under the tavern awning.

Howdy doesn’t dare go back to get a coat, even if all he has on are his thin work clothes. The cold nearly knocks the breath out of him, but he focuses on the alcohol warm in his stomach and plunges into the storm. He slows just enough to let Eddie - and, apparently, Sally - pass him. She carves a way through the pitch black night.

Mud saturates Howdy’s boots and the cuffs of his pants. It sticks unpleasantly to his skin and only worsens the chill as they run past dark buildings. Few windows glow orange, proving how late it’s gotten. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since Barnaby was injured. Even with Sally,’s light, it’s going to be impossible to find Wormie in this weather.

Howdy’s eyes burn as they leave the town’s muddy streets and plunge into the terribly dark forest. What if they don’t find her? The thought is almost too much to bear. Howdy doesn’t think he could face Barnaby when - if - he wakes up. They’ve already lost Wally, and that alone has had Barnaby in shambles. But if they lost his beloved little worm, too?

It feels like they run through the woods for hours. Eddie keeps slipping and tripping, but manages to keep his legs under him. Howdy’s mind whirls with what-ifs and maybes and hows and whys. Eddie and Barnaby were ambushed so far away - why did they come to Howdy’s tavern instead of going right to Poppy’s? How horrible was it to go all the way into town in that state, in this weather? What if Wormie drowned, or was trampled, frozen, taken -

“I think it was here,” Eddie shouts over the thunder and rain. A flash of lightning illuminates the ground through the waving treetops.

“You think?” Sally says. Howdy wishes he had said it first - now is not the time for Eddie’s navigational dysfunction!

“I don’t know, Sally! I wasn’t really paying attention on account of keepin’ Barn’s insides from spillin’ everywhere!” Eddie doesn’t say it to be cruel, Howdy knows.

It doesn’t stop him from feeling unsteady all over again, or stop Sally’s glow from dimming. He glances around like he expects to see more blood, though even if this is the correct area, the rain has washed any evidence away. Howdy turns in a circle, tangling his upper hands in his hair.

There’s no way of knowing. There’s no way of finding such a tiny, sweet little creature- lightning flashes, catching on leather outside of Sally’s glow.

Howdy lunges for the hat, uncaring of how his knees sink deep into frigid mud as he snatches it up. The hat is grimy, but undamaged. Even Ms. Beagle’s feather is intact. But when Howdy turns it over, his heart sinks.

Nothing inside.

Nothing on the ground around it either, even when he digs through the mud to make sure. Eddie hesitantly touches Howdy’s shoulder, and Sally’s warm glow envelops his back.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. He sniffles. “I should’ve grabbed her. I should’ve-”

“You prioritized our bard,” Sally says. “We can’t fault you for that.”

They can’t. Howdy… Howdy wants to, but he can’t find it in himself. He’s cold, he’s tired, he wants to go make sure Barnaby is being taken care of. He looks around a final time, blinking against the rainwater pouring over his eyes.

Nothing but muddy soil, bushes, trees, darkness.

Howdy clutches the hat to his chest and stands, stumbling slightly. His friends steady him, and his face pinches. He shouldn’t have drank so much at once. It’s finally getting to him, and soon he’ll be of no use at all. He can already feel the faint buzz in his head.

“We’ll come back in the morning,” Sally promises, tugging gently on his lower arm.

Howdy makes a pained noise. She won’t make it to morning. It’s too cold, she’s too small. All they’ll find is her little frozen body.

“Hold on.” Eddie holds out an arm to stop them. “Can you hear that?”

“It’s impossible to hear anything over this storm,” Sally says.

“No, no… I’m sure I heard something. It was a - a little, it was a little…”

Peep.

Howdy’s waterlogged antennae snap upright, and he whips around to stare at a nearby tree. A past storm must have nearly blown it over, as half of the base seems uprooted. Gnarled roots arc and tangle out of the ground. Howdy falls to his knees in front of the dark hole under the trunk.

Another peep comes from inside.

“Sal, I need your light,” Howdy says, fumbling for her. Her golden glow fills the space, and he nearly sobs.

Wormie squints up at them, curled into a tiny ball and shaking like the wet leaves she lies on. Mud covers her colors - if her eyes weren’t open, one could mistake her for a twig. Her harness blends into the rest of her. She peeps again.

“Hey, gal,” Howdy murmurs, reaching into the shelter. Her antennae make a feeble attempt at raising, and she stretches her neck out towards his fingers. He slips them underneath her and lifts her out, making sure to shield her from the rain with his body.

“Thank the stars,” Eddie says wetly. “For a moment there I thought we lost her.”

Howdy curls his fingers around Wormie, his heart breaking at how violently she shakes.

“Should I take her? She must be freezing, the poor thing” Sally says, holding out a hand. Howdy holds her out, and Wormie lifts her head as Sally’s warm glow washes over her. She blinks at the offered trade, then drops her head and nestles into Howdy’s palm. Sally retracts her hand. “Apparently not.”

Howdy hooks the hat over that hand, and Wormie lets out a mournful peep. He lets Sally and Eddie pull him through the forest, staying hunched over the hat and murmuring reassurances. He starts quietly crying again at some point. The rain washes away his tears and sounds. By the time they return to the tavern, he’s exhausted himself. They all stumble through the doorway as a soaked, grimy trio.

Julie and Frank flurry over to fuss over them, but Howdy staggers past their worries. All he knows through the cotton in his head is that he needs a hot bath. He leaves their chatter behind and makes his way down the hallway, only pausing to listen at Barnaby’s door.

Poppy is humming to herself. Howdy sags against the wall for a moment, taking solace in how calm she sounds. For a moment, he imagines going inside and resting at Barnaby’s bedside, but… later, he promises himself. When he’s in clean clothes and feels less like collapsing.

Climbing the stairs to his room is a feat in itself, but Howdy manages it without tripping over the steps. He closes his door behind him and sighs, tempted to just fall asleep on the floor and deal with everything later. But Wormie is still shivering in his hand, and he might as well kill two birds with one stone.

The hat is placed on the table for cleaning. Howdy hates to let go of Wormie, but he places her on the crown while he runs a bath. Not for the first time he thanks his past self for investing in this revolutionary tech called plumbing. All he needs to do is turn a valve, and hot water pours right into a fixed tub in the corner of his large, open room.

For a long moment he yanks at the valve, not understanding why it’s not working- ah. He’s turning it the wrong way. He blinks forcibly and twists the right way, and water pours out. He watches it drain until it registers that he should plug the tub.

Oh, the headache he’s going to have when he wakes up…

Howdy strips as he makes his way back over to Wormie, leaving unsalvageable clothing items strewn about. It’s a blessing in disguise that he was drenched by the rain - it kept all of the blood from drying, so his shirt and pants come off easily instead of sticking to his skin. He’s still stained red underneath them. Howdy undoes his ponytail and picks up Wormie. He carefully loosens her harness and slides it off, revealing a patch of spring blue and green bands underneath.

He holds her to his chest as he steps into the filling tub. Steam rises off of it, and it clears his stuffed sinuses. He inhales it grateful and sinks into the water, clenching his teeth when it laps over the punctures in his thigh. He closes the valve and settles with a groan.

Wormie peeps at him and looks over the side of his hand at the water with longing in her big eyes. Howdy carefully lowers her until the warm water pools over his palm. Wormie finally stretches out as he rubs his thumb over her. Mud flakes and sloughs off of her, and she wriggles happily. She dunks her face and thrashes a little to properly soak herself. He gently runs a soap bar over her until she’s nearly white from the suds, and lowers her into the water so only her head floats on the surface.

Once she’s clean, Howdy grabs a small hand towel off of a nearby shelf, soaks it, and piles it on the side of the tub. He places Wormie on it and she happily starts burrowing. It occurs to him that he could look for some sort of floatation device for her, so that she could splash around to her tiny heart’s content, but just the thought is exhausting. So, a waterlogged towel it is.

Before Howdy completely ruins the water by scrubbing more blood and mud into it, he washes his hair. The rain had already undone the ‘do, so at least he doesn’t have to scrub out the styling paste. He squeezes the water out as best as he can and slicks it back.

Watching the red caking his skin dissipate into the water is nothing short of a relief. He stops when he gets to the minor injury Barnaby left him - he can’t tell if he bled or not. If he did, it was overshadowed by Barnaby’s blood. He sits on the edge of the tub to better inspect it.

The wounds are shallow and nothing to write home about. They don’t need bandaging, though even if they did, the time for that has long since passed. Barnaby must not be dulling his claws like he usually does. Thankfully they weren’t entirely sharp, or Howdy suspects he’d have much larger holes in his thigh. Three punctures on the outside, one on the inside. Howdy opens the water valve a smidge just to wet a fresh towelette and properly clean the wounds. It would help no one to get them infected - Poppy needs to save her energy for Barnaby.

By the time he’s satisfied with his cleanliness - if he weren’t so tired, he’d have gone for a fourth round of soap - Wormie is dozing in her damp towel. He opens the drain before grabbing a fresh hand towel, this one dry. He carefully lifts Wormie out of it and wraps her in the soft fabric. Her eyes open for only a moment before she settles again, purring.

For a long few minutes, Howdy just sits and holds her, watching her antennae twitch as she falls asleep. He absentmindedly rubs the towel, and Wormie’s purring increases as she’s dried.

The sound of the last of the water draining pulls Howdy’s attention away from the tiny animal. He carefully gets out of the tub and puts Wormie back on the table, still wrapped up. Once again, he looks longingly at his bed.

Howdy dries off and dresses in loose sleep pants and leaves it at that, not wanting to bother with a shirt. He rarely sleeps with one on, anyway. Too much of a hassle. He slips Wormie out of her towel and brings her downstairs, once again having to move slowly with much paid attention as to not fall with his leaden legs.

Poppy emerges from the room as Howdy reaches the ground floor. She turns and startles. “Oh! Howdy, you startled me. You look much better… though your hair is still wet - you’ll catch a cold if you leave it like that.”

Is it? Howdy brushes his fingertips over cold strands plastered to his neck. Oops.

“Are you alright? You look quite unsteady…” Poppy comes over to him and squawks softly, her neck pulling back. “Is that alcohol? Howdy, are you drunk?”

Howdy shrugs one shoulder. Talking takes focus and time, but he manages, “I may be a little tipsy. No worries.”

“Many worries, dear.”

“How is he?” Howdy deflects as he walks past her, partially leaning against the wall. He nudges open the door and rests against the doorframe. The blankets cast over the small room’s bed rise and fall in stark contrast to how shallow Barnaby was breathing earlier.

“On the mend,” Poppy murmurs, following him inside. He slumps into the armchair already pulled up to the bed. “He might sleep for some time… he’s been through quite an ordeal. Anyone would be tired after so much healing, let alone after… well.”

Howdy carefully places Wormie on Barnaby’s neck. She stirs, and starts forcibly purring as soon as she registers the shade of blue underneath her. She doesn’t perform her usual party-seizure like she usually does when seeing Barnaby - she just burrows into his fur. Howdy has to wonder if she’s simply exhausted, or if she can tell that something is wrong.

“I don’t believe we’ll encounter any complications with his health, thank goodness” Poppy says. “By my estimates, he should be up and moving within the week. I’d like him to remain on bedrest for a few days more than strictly necessary, but I doubt he’ll want to stay put.”

If Howdy weren’t so worn out, he’d tear up yet again.

Of course he won’t stay. Barnaby will charge out the door as soon as he’s able, hellbent as he is on finding Wally. No one can blame him. The others will likely continue the search tomorrow, if not the next day. All Howdy can hope is they find something promising for Barnaby to wake up to.

He crosses his upper arms on the bed and pillows his head on them. He fights to keep his eyelids open, watching Barnaby’s peaceful face. He looks calm, his features holding no hint of pain. A warm weight drapes over Howdy.

He starts to lift his head, but Poppy says, “It’s just a blanket. Rest, Howdy, you need it. Barnaby will be here when you wake up.”

Howdy means to thank her, but the word comes out as a weary sigh. He lets his eyes slide shut, and slips into deep sleep a second later.

#I PROMISED CHAT I'D POST THIS SO HERE IT IS #tenderly kissing barnaby's unconscious forehead <3 #i do it out of a place of love and affection <3 #my favorite form of gore is gut stuff soooo.... its reserved for my fav characters <3 #love me some insides becoming Outsides!#snippets from the bog #wh fantasy au #alright not much else to say. im tired!#today was... a Lot. need to sleep... need to shower i forgot to do that...#wait no side note #i absolutely fucking love writing wormie. she <3 #actually i have a whole extra scene for when barnaby wakes up maybe ill rb this w/ the addition #At Some Point! when the mood strikes!#but yes i hope that those of you who read this enjoyed <3 #i certainly did!

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13eyond13 · 8 months

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love it when a character that's hard to read intuitively for you has like a dedicated fandom interpreter who can just glance at their blank face in a panel and then give you a 3k word essay on their innermost thoughts & desires & fears and neatly tie it back into the themes & whatnot as if it's the most obvious thing in the world

#im talking about griffith btw #guts i feel i get intuitively - maybe because i have some personality traits in common with him #and we get more about his life concretely told to us in canon. so he is a bit easier to pin down as a character and feel attached to for me #but whenever i was reading the manga i just kept wanting more insight about griffith's actions and feelings #like ok yeah its fun to have mysterious antagonists and suspense /tension etc but its also fun to feel like you deeply understand them too #and i felt like that was a bit missing from him for me in canon #so reading about him in analysis and fics is the most fun for me rn #he always felt kinda half unreal to me- which maybe was the point of him - but i wanted a bit more about his childhood or something?#and wished we had more stuff explicitly from his pov in the story to read or explanation about his transformation or wtv #and now he's so much more closed off to me even than he was in the golden age. i keep waiting for him to explain stuff and he does not #ANYWAYS all this rambling to say some people out there are very good at interpreting him and making his like. insecurities #more obvious to me bc i didnt really get that side of him from canon intuitively well #also im really enjoying reading the first few berserk fics ive read #there may not be a ton of them out there but there is def writing talent in the fandom #i'll share some recs once i'm done sifting through most of what's out there to read #also (not to tie everything back to death note but it IS my home fandom after all)#i feel griffith is obvs the more light-like character here and L maybe a bit guts-like? but unlike berserk in death note #light is the one you get to know best and L is the mysterious / unreal one you don't get a lot of concrete insight into #and in the DN fandom I can read the more mysterious character intuitively but had to warm up to the less mysterious one instead #and the mystery of L makes sense to me and doesnt bug me as much due to like - he HAS to hide a lot about himself or else he will die lol #so some similarities there but also some opposite feels as well #berserk spoilers #p

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agender-witchery · 1 year

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Canto IV was really good

Project Moon does a cool thing that I really like with their stories, which in theory isn't really anything special, but I see so few stories do this that it really does single Project Moon out in my mind.

Each Project Moon game is in a dialogue with itself, having a discussion about politics and philosophy and society in general. They universally present the status quo as Not Great which is... evident for anyone living in the real world, but importantly to me, they do not present any proper answers to this.

This isn't to say that Project Moon stories are fence sitting nonsense that call for the importance of meeting in the middle, that's your own decision on whether you think that's worthwhile. And Project Moon DOES express opinions in the world they have created, so they're not cowards in that sense either. It's pretty clear, at least to me, that they believe things in our world do have to change, that the vision of capitalism that exists in the City is horrendous, and that we in the real world are on a clear trajectory toward the world of the City if action is not taken.

However, the way they frame the two opposing sides of each argument they present is important. And key to that framing is that in every game you play antisocial, morally dubious murderers. This is a constant. The people you're fighting aren't the good guys, but hey, neither are you.

In Ruina, when it comes down to the final confrontation with the Reverberation Ensemble, you are presented with two opposing ideals. Carmen and the Ensemble would love nothing more than to see the world torn down in its entirety, built back up in their own imagining of an ideal society. The Librarians, on the other hand, are there to fight against that notion, that the world they have as it is can be changed.

And while I definitely fall on the side of "maybe there's hope to be had in this dying, hellish apocalypse" I do GET where the Ensemble is coming from. I GET what Carmen's trying to do. It's a naive and childish attempt at creating a better world from the ashes of the old, an idea whose inevitable result is tyranny, but to someone who's already experiencing tyranny, tyranny but this time you're on top seems appealing. And I also understand that, for the Librarians, even if the ultimate goal here is to create a better society without that sort of tyranny, well you're kind of murdering people to achieve that.

And I think all this plays into why I enjoyed Canto IV so much. First off, the main conflict in Canto IV isn't between Limbus Company and another group, it's the conflict between K Corp and the Technology Liberation Alliance, which can be further distilled down to the conflict between Dongrang and Dongbaek.

In the case of K Corp, they're a bunch of utilitarians, people who say that even torture is acceptable if it leads to lives saved. And they quite literally do this, torturing the Tearful Thing in literally every possible way, just to produce the tears needed for regeneration ampules, forcing it to cry for the sake of others. Dongbaek doesn't even fully refute that this might be useful, but she does assert that if you're going to go to these lengths, there better be a foreseeable end to it, you better be curing EVERYONE.

And then we have the TLA, a bunch of anprims who aren't exactly wrong in the assertion that the way technology is used within the City causes immeasurable harm, but do come to the wrong conclusion that ALL tech needs to be incinerated. And, for them to come against K Corp specifically is significant, because sure, K Corp literally tortures people to produce their ampules, but the results are tangible. Lives are, in fact, saved, even if we discount the K Corp Security that will cut their own limbs off just to get healed.

And where Canto IV manages to stop saying "both sides bad" is in bringing Limbus Company back into the equation. A third party, who doesn't adhere to the ideals of either side.

Does Limbus Company have perfect answers to resolve this conflict? No, you're still a bunch of murderers. But they do present a third perspective, that instead of looking only at total harm done and coming to the conclusion that torture is acceptable, and instead of looking at all the injustices caused and coming to the conclusion that the entire world needs to be reset, through exploring the fathoms of Yi Sang's EGO, we can come to consider the possibility of caring for the individual. That yes, this world is fucked up and living in it can itself be considered a crime against humanity, but that doesn't mean you can't help someone in a way that doesn't hurt someone else. Yi Sang went from being horribly depressed with nothing in this world, someone who desperately wanted to die and couldn't even be afforded that mercy, to someone who finally smiled. The world is still fucked up, and we don't really have a solution to that, but we at least made it a little bit brighter for one person, and in the future, we can keep doing that.

And also? Canto IV introduced Alfonso so really it's just the best chapter.

#project moon #lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #limbus company #spoilers #Limbus Canto IV #i know i massively simplified both Ruina and Canto IV but I'm writing a tumblr post not my PhD thesis #go play Project Moon games there's a lot more nuance to them than what I've presented here #this isn't even a comprehensive analysis of why I enjoyed Canto IV this is just one specific aspect of it that I liked #im tiny puppy

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ghosttotheparty · 2 years

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also on ao3

(cw: tics, bullying)

Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.

Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)

'S just a shiver, I'm fine.

He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.

It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.

The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.

They got worse.

By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.

That year, he became the freak.

At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.

He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)

His tics got worse.

In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.

Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--

So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.

No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.

He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.

And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.

Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.

He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.

He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--

But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.

And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.

Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.

Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.

The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.

Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.

When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.

This one goes here, right?

Yeah.

On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.

It's okay. It's okay.

And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.

He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.

When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?

Steve kisses him.

And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.

One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.

Steve just says, Mine too.

#welcome to projection central #hand wrote this during a lecture today bc i was bored and realised a lot of ppl write/hc eddie as autistic and w adhd #but usually those are the only kinda neurodivergencies i see in fan content #(pretend thats a word)#but then i thought eddie having tics would make sense for his character and i have Experience to write from so #(disclaimer i was not bullied in school nor was i removed from classes (unless i left on my accord bc i wanted to hide in the bathroom))#(some kids teased me or mimicked me or told me to 'do it again' but i dealt w them)#(and the one kid that was really a dick ended up being rly nice by the time we graduated he's cool)#(and i got lucky w my teachers i think they were all very sweet and considerate)#(but i thought this story would make sense and go along with eddies story in the canon)#anyway give eddie tics #anotther hc that his tics calm down/stop when he's playing guitar and playing d&d #mine arent as bad as they were in high school but back then (and on bad days now) they usually calm down #when im focused on something or doing something i enjoy (ie drawing or painting or st)#steddie #steddie oneshot #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things one shot

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