#like a goddamned liar

[chenziee]

In 2023, I will think about all the things that I've, at some point, publicly said I'd write and then never did, and also about that one unfinished WIP that I posted one chapter of and then never touched again. I will think about them every day, every waking hour.

I will also never do anything about any of them, exactly like I did in 2022.

[strangersteddierthings]

No Regrets - Part Five

Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

This beautiful fic cover you see below was made by the fantastic, wonderful and lovely @skepsiss <3 Thanks so much!!! I'm still crying about it.

He jolts backwards, the burning in his chest hurts, it fucking hurts but- but it doesn't? He pulls in a deep, shaking breath and feels no pain.

"Steve?" Nancy asks from off to his right, so he turns to look at her. She looks concerned, and scared in a way he hasn't seen her in years. (Except it's not years, is it? Not anymore, or not right now?) "Are you okay?"

He shakes his head before digging his palms into his eyes. He's dying, dying, dying- he's dead, he has to be. The Storms are so toxic and he-

"Steve," Robin's voice is accompanied by her hands around his wrists. She pulls his hands from his eyes and he lets her. He blinks at her worried face. "Steve, what just happened?"

"I-I was. I think... give me a moment" Steve says. Robin nods once, a confirmation, but she doesn't move away or release his wrists.

He pulls in another deep breath and closes his eyes to think. He's trying to remember. He thinks he promised to explain everything after... after Pennhurst? Yes, he remembers. Promised that after Robin and Nancy got back from their trip to Pennhurst, he'd tell them everything he knows. It's... it is after, now.

It was yesterday that Robin and Nancy went to Pennhurst and spoke to Creel. They learned about Creel, and the music. They still got found out as fakes; Steve didn't remember what caused them to be discovered last time to be able to warn them against it this time.

He still ended up being bullied into driving Max around. This time, though, he already had an hour-long loop of Running Up That Hill in his car. They'd let Max go to speak to Billy alone, like last time. The boys paced around the car and this time, when they realize that Max isn't responding, Steve's already loading the tape into the cassette player. He shoves it into Lukas's hands and tells him to put it on Max, press play, and to not stop begging her to come back until she is.

Steve saw he had questions, but Max was more important. She floated, and fell, and Lucas had caught her. Then...?

Oh, right. Then, he did explain, yesterday evening, after everyone had crowded into the Wheeler's basement. Went over Vecna winning, Hawkins becoming ground zero for the apocalypse. Talks about a future with a lot of loss, but won't say who, as well as the slow decay of the air and earth. That you could breathe the air for small moments of time, but long exposure would make you sick. That even though they'd finally killed Vecna in 1989, too much damage had been done, too many gates opened, kept opening with every new death by demo-creature. El alone would never be able to close off all the gates. They were working on trying to create a reverse of the machine below Starcourt, meant to close gates instead of open, but the world would probably be a complete wasteland before they could complete it.

No one had reacted well to the news, but the yelling was a minimum, which had been a pleasant surprise.

In the end, Steve had told them they needed more people, more help. That he was going to tell Wayne about the Upside Down.

He opens his eyes, now, and looks around. The place is small, familiar almost. Wood paneling and- The Munson's home. They're in Eddie's home. Because last night Steve had come over. He'd come over and told Wayne everything because he couldn't do this again. Not alone, not as the only responsible adult.

The Wayne in the future had been so willing to help, when Hawkins ripped open at its seams, and Wayne in the present was the same. He didn't- he didn't even call Steve crazy. He'd said he believed Steve, that some government lady told him they were going to pay for him to be in a hotel since his home was an active crime scene, but Wayne'd refused. Eddie wouldn't know where to call when he got out, and what if he just showed up and Wayne was gone- well, Wayne found that unacceptable.

Now, Wayne should be his way back from Indy in Eddie's recovered van with the Byers and Mike, and they're here waiting on a call from Eddie.

Steve's not dying, or, he's not anymore? Or maybe he is, and this is just. What the end is like? Getting to put an end to your regrets or something.

Whatever. It doesn't really matter what or why or even how. He knows what is in store for the future if they don't stop Vecna today.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm back," Steve says, opening his eyes to look at Robin.

She scrunches her brow. "Back?"

"Back from the future," Steve gives her a lopsided grin and in return she squints at him, leaning in real close to his face like the closer she is the more of his mind she'll be able to read.

"You're a different Steve. Again."

"What?" Nancy asks.

"Again?" Steve asks.

Robin scrutinizes his face some more before backing off, just a few inches. "Yeah. It was- Saturday, when you just walked out of our shift after Dustin and Max showed up, you were different then. Not. It was- you know how we were just talking about how if only we could combine, our love life problems would be fixed?"

Steve does, but only after having to think about it for a moment. It was so long ago, but it wasn't. Not for the Steve he's replaced, not for Robin in front of him. "Yeah. I remember."

"It's like I didn't realize how much we'd already combined until we weren't anymore. It was like... like you were a completely different person. I thought it was just, maybe, a reaction to learning the Upside Down was back. But you got different. More haunted."

"You noticed a difference?"

Robin scoffs, "of course I did. You're you but it was. This whole week it's been like... each day brings a new you. With different quirks. Except yesterday was still all the same old-new you so I thought- I thought maybe we'd succeeded. Fixed whatever it was that needed changed because you hadn't changed. But we haven't yet. 'Cause you're back."

Steve shakes his head. "No. No, we haven't. But this time- we'll have the manpower."

"No, I mean, I just-" Robin huffs, falling back onto her butt rather than staying in an uncomfortable crouch. "I just noticed, is all."

"Are we making it better," Nancy asks, "or worse?"

Steve looks from Robin to Nancy. "I-I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean I don't know. I don't- I don't know what we've changed. Or if it's been for the better. Because I don't remember."

"Oh," Nancy says with a nod, the look on her face morphing to one Steve knows means she's working out the puzzle of it all. He'll leave her to it.

His attention turns back to Robin, who has her head tipped back, looking at the unopened gate on the roof of the trailer. It definitely cannot be mistaken for water damage anymore. "What are you thinking about?"

Robin tips her head back down to look at Steve. "Exactly that."

"What?"

"Sorry," she says with a frown, "I was just thinking about how we can't- we don't really read each other's minds anymore. I know we should be worrying more about the end of the world but I'm just, just being selfish. Worrying about our friendship."

"You are the only constant in my life, Robin Buckley," Steve confesses, a fierceness to his tone he doesn't even recognize. "You have been, and always will be, the person I need in my life to bother even living it. I swear to God, Robbie, that if anything ever happens to you, I will walk into traffic."

Robin lets out a laugh. "That's a bit extreme."

Steve shoots Nancy a look; he can see she's in her own world. He stands then, offering a hand to Robin to pull her up. "Come on. I have something to tell you. A soulmate secret."

Robin's eyes light up with delight and he pulls her from the ground before leading her to the only place they can get privacy. Eddie's room.

It's two steps into the room that Steve realizes he's never seen Eddie's room before. Or, if he had, the memory of it is lost with the time line it happened in. In Steve's memory, the front half of Eddie's home gets obliterated, and when Eddie and Wayne went back to gather the things that survived the gate opening, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas had gone with the help pack it up. Steve had been helping fortify the high school.

It seems ridiculous, to be hit with the thought of never having seen Eddie's room, with the threat of the apocalypse still looming.

"Alright, secret time," Robin sounds delighted, and her voice pulls him from his thoughts. She shuts the door and turns, eyeing the bed skeptically. "Hmm, standing room only I think."

Steve huffs out a laugh as he takes in the mess of a room, a room that looks lived in and shows Eddie's personality and the things he cares about. Nothing at all like his own room at the Harrington house; perfectly clean and matching and devoid of anything distinctly Steve. "Like you ever make your bed."

The noise Robin makes is clearly offended, and she smacks his arm lightly with the back of her hand, "uncalled for! Unprovoked, even!"

"Yeah, well, you're judging a guy who's been in jail this past 48-ish hours. Not like he had time to tidy up," Steve says.

"I think the state of his bed -whole room, really- is not because he didn't come home to clean up. In fact, I think he just lives like this."

"At least his room looks lived in. I mean, look at all of this on the walls. You think he drew these?" Steve says, hand reach out to brush against a drawing tacked to the wall nearest him.

"Your room could look lived in, too, if you weren't afraid of a few tack holes," Robin replies, crossing the room. Steve watches her go, approaching the mirror and the guitar mounted in front of it. She examines the guitar before picking up the red yoyo atop the amp.

"And here you were worried about not being able to read my mind anymore."

She turns to him and gives him a quick, genuine smile before turning her attention back to the yoyo. "So, what's the soulmate secret? You really good with a yoyo?"

"What? No. I didn't even know that was in here," Steve says.

"I thought you knew the future," Robin teases as she gets the yoyo to successfully fling from her palm and back into her grasp. She makes a little pleased noise before she creeps around the room, gawking at all of Eddie's things.

"I know one, specific future that we are trying to change, if you'll remember. I didn't know you could yoyo."

"Neither did I- oh my God, there's an Alf costume in his closet!"

"A what- no, nevermind. You can snoop and-"

"I'm not a snoop."

"-and listen as the same time, so I just. I'm gonna say something and please know that I have had five years to figure this all out, and also know that the apocalypse has a way of putting things into perspective."

"Mhmm," Robin hums an acknowledgement as she moves back to where she picked up the yoyo. "Why does he have a pepper shaker in his room?"

Steve ignores her, choosing to believe that was just her thinking out loud and not actually asking him. "Actually, the apocalypse was full of surprises. And I mean, beyond the surprises one might expect. Like, so many of our old teachers are survival experts. Did you ever have Mr. Clark, that guy- wait, no. I had something I wanted to tell you."

The phone starts ringing in the living room. Nancy's out there, though, so neither of them move to the door.

"Anyway, this feels so... why am I so nervous about this? I mean, I've already told you once, but, uh, I. I'm a little worried, scared?"

"Hey, whoa," Robin has dropped her investigation and turned fully back to Steve. "What is it?"

"I like Eddie," Steve blurts, needing to get the words out. "I like Eddie, and I died so now I think this is my only shot, like last last shot but I don't even know if he'll still like me back and I'm, like, ridiculously nervous to see him because, and this is the soulmate secret part because-"

"Whoa, what, what!!? Did you just say died?"

"- you cannot tell anyone, but I'm the reason he's been in jail. I called Hawkins PD and told them where they could find Eddie, 'cause if he was in jail then he couldn't be blamed for Fred's murder, but I've never had to fess up to that because, like, Hawkins exploding and life becoming an actual nightmare for years made it not important. Like, what's a criminal record in the face of no surviving government?"

Robin is staring at him, eyes wide and face slightly pale and it's now that Steve thinks that, maybe, he's not doing as well with everything as he thought he might be.

"Am I... okay?" Steve asks himself out loud, and that has Robin throwing herself across the room to clutch at Steve, drag him into a crushing hug. He hugs back, trembling and finding it hard to breath.

"No, no I don't think you are," Robin whispers, squeezing tight.

"Hey, that was- oh!" Nancy says as she flings the bedroom door open. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt-"

"It's just a hug," Robin says.

"Right. Umm, the phone was Officer Callahan. We can go pick up Eddie."

"Right," Steve says, pulling away from the hug and pulling himself together. He can have his mental break down tomorrow. "Let's go get Eddie."

Provided if that, this time when he closes his eyes to rest, he'll wake up here and not. Well, either in the future or not at all.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @a-little-unsteddie @sevenmerrymagpies @steviesummer @queenie-ofthe-void @mycatsstolemybiscuit @lololol-1234 @synonym-for-strange @tchackdaw

[deusluxuria]

( NSFW text )

headcanon that the fastest way to get on jotaro's nerves is to talk about his enormous massively huge giant dick. like his wife and kakyoin will be in a group text with him rizzing him up about it to purposefully annoy him, and he finally just writes back a whole-ass (somewhat joking) rant that has them rolling on the floor

[antiquepearlss]

Tangled The Series would have been very different if Varian were voiced by John Mulaney, huh?

[prolibytherium]

Skyler White is such a phenomenal character and Anna Gunn's acting is amazing and it kills me how heavily this went unappreciated or actively hated by so many people who watched it. I know this has been talked to death but I think about it every time I rewatch (which is a lot)

Like there are some outrageously on-the-nose ass lines about like "they'll just see me as the bitch wife who ruins everything" and so many people were like God yeah she is the bitch wife who ruins everything...

[allycat75]

So another installment of privleged Hollywood rich, white men sucking each other's dicks.

Glad you like the Boston Dumb Fuck, Shawn and Ryan. But he didn't gaslight you and make you look stupid, crazy and jealous so he could fake marry a racist, antisemetic, fatahaming, arrogant, lazy, childiish idiot. But he did do that to many undeserving people and selfishly used his friends and family, including his beloved dog, to pull it off.

Compulsive, pathological liars can look like nice guys, too.

Funny how you aren't going on about the other cameos you had, like Channing Tatum or Jennifer Garner. Perhaps because their careers and lives aren't in shambles at their own hands and need coddling enablers to save them from the consequenses of their actions. So good job, rich white men for again sticking together and coming to the rescue of a fellow comrade so none of you have to learn a hard fought lesson on how to be a better person!

Also funny how "murdering it" is just being really aggravating and aggressive in a heavy Boston accent, reminding me I don't like Chris Evans as an actor anymore because I don't see Johnny Storm or Captain America. I now only see the soulless, lazy fuck who played them.

[solar-eclipsed]

I would change my pfp to Sanji to reflect my obsession but I do think Rody is more emblematic of the sorts of characters I care about and like rather than Sanji . Whose experience sure varies .

[yessu]

I don’t follow Youtubers enough to keep up with unfolding drama often but I spent the evening catching up on the MamaMax situation and realizing it went from “weird exposee case that took a video essay to make heads or tails of” to “oh, we’re watching this man take advantage of a victim Live On Stream/Youtube and realizing this behavior has been years in the making” got me a lil heated

[gumy-shark]

don’t have really any brainpower left over after work today but that’s okay. rotating hero omori in my mind takes very little energy

[todayisafridaynight]

is there anyone you ship ichi with? 👀

dragon quest collection for the nintendo switch 🥰🥰

[softquietsteadylove]

Kingo is trying to make Gil jealous to see if he cares about Thena and uses some interesting methods.

For the fake wedding one!

"Please, Thena?"

She looked up at Kingo, "I don't understand why you need me for it."

"Because Makkari and Sersi both said no, and I have to send in this video of me by today!" Kingo pleaded with her, pressing his hands together and wobbling his lip.

"What about Ajak?"

"I don't wanna dance with my mom!" Kingo faked sobbing, although it still did nothing to move Thena in his favour, "plus, she's way too busy and I'm way too scared to ask her. I'm pretty sure she'll break out the chancla on me."

Thena had already seen what the threat of la chancla could do for keeping her children (plus Kingo) in line. The woman clearly had mastered her weapon of choice. Thena sighed, "it's just a video of you dancing?"

"Yes!" Kingo bounced with glee, "and I know all the steps and everything. All you have to do is sway and follow my lead--and look like you're in love with me!"

Thena rolled her eyes but stood from her patio chair, "I'll try."

"That's all I ask," he grinned at her, holding his hand out like a true gentleman. "There isn't any sound for it either, so I can talk you through things too."

She had no idea how these things worked for an actor of Kingo's level, but if he had to send in a video of himself dancing with no music, who was she to question it?

Besides, Gil was busy making croissants - or something - so it wasn't as if she had anything better to do with her time.

"Madame," Kingo schmoozed as he pulled her into position with him. His expression screamed a rich and entitled dandy, or whatever his character would be for this project. But it was definitely Kingo saying, "is it okay if I put my hand on your waist?"

Thena shrugged. She hadn't known Kingo for long, but there was something undeniably unthreatening about him, at least to her. Maybe it was the same warmth Gil and the rest of the family exuded. Or maybe it was the complete lack of physical interest he had in her. It was a refreshing break from most of the creeps at work back home.

Kingo began trotting them around in boxes within circles. He was surprisingly skilled with his dancing, leading her smoothly. "Hey, you're not so bad at this."

Thena wasn't convinced by the flattery, "don't be fooled, it's not as if I'm going to be able to do this on my own."

"Are you ready?" he asked more quietly, his face coming closer as their twirling slowed down to a gentle swaying from side to side. "For your first dance?"

Thena gulped, "I...suppose."

"Have you guys had lessons for it?" Kingo asked, the side of his head hovering close to the side of hers. "I heard some people do that."

If she had known about this more than a few weeks in advance, she might have considered it. "Gil said he didn't want to worry about stuff like that, and I'm inclined to agree."

"Well, you can consider this kinda like practice, right?" Kingo chuckled, his hand squeezing hers faintly.

"I suppose so," she murmured, not really thinking of Kingo as he swayed them to some imaginary beat. He was tall, maybe even a little taller than Gil. But he wasn't as warm, and his muscles were harder--more wiry. Gil's felt so natural on his frame, as if he had been born with them. Every time she felt them close to her, it was reassuring.

"I gotta admit," Kingo nearly whispered this part, bringing his head even closer to hers for it. "I was a little surprised when Gil told us about this shotgun wedding."

Thena held her breath.

"He's not really the impulsive type, and between you and me," he paused to snicker, "Ajak asked me if I thought he had, uh, knocked you up, as it were."

Honestly, it was a fair assumption on poor Ajak's part.

"But you guys seem really happy," Kingo concluded with a lighter tone. He pulled his head away so he could look at her as he said it, but they were so physically close her eyes blurred a little to really look at him. "I'm glad you found each other."

Thena turned her head, preferring to stare into/just barely over his shoulder rather than be nose to nose with her cousin-to-be. A breeze rushed around them and she felt the warmth in her cheeks. "I couldn't find anyone better than Gil."

Of all the lies she had told since arriving here with Gil, this was true.

"Okay," Kingo whispered, giving her waist a squeeze, "i have to dip you now. Have you ever done one?"

"No," she hissed at him, but he was already picking up speed and twirling her around again.

"It's okay, just relax and let me hold you as I lean you back," he continued to grin like that was so easily done. "Just trust me."

There was only one person in the world she trusted like that.

"Kingo, wait," she bit her lip, more nerves building up as Kingo spun her again. He wrapped his arm around the back of her shoulders, half lowering her down with her eyes squeezed shut like he was dangling her off a cliff.

"Kingo!"

"Oh, hey Gil," he smiled, still holding Thena in one arm and spreading the other for dramatic effect. "We-"

"Let go of her!"

Thena opened her eyes when a different set of hands grasped her shoulders. She was pulled up to stand properly again, and rather than Kingo's deep purple t-shirt, she was met with Gil's green sweater, and the scent of his aftershave.

"What the hell are you doing, man!" Gil barked at him, holding Thena to his chest as if Kingo had been about to feed her to the wolves.

"Sorry Gil, I needed help recording a dance for my next audition tape," Kingo laughed through his excuse, carefully avoiding the gravity Gil brought to the situation. "Thena was the only one free."

Gil's hand moved from Thena's shoulders to the small of her back, trailing down with a light touch, "you're doing stuff like this an awful lot, lately."

"Like what?" Kingo shrugged. If Gil wanted his answers, he was going to have to come out and say it.

"Gil," Thena interrupted before the two could really get their tempers up and flaring. She pressed her hand into the divet of chest between his pecs, "it's okay. He asked me to help, and I said I would."

Gil sighed, clearly wanting to stay angry at Kingo, even as she tried to talk him out of it. He was still holding her. "I know, Thena, but that's not-"

"It's good practice, right?"

Both men looked at her, shocked by her sudden outburst. Gil tilted his head at her, "practice for what?"

"Well," she sighed, feeling the warmth in her cheeks re-emerge. "We'll have to...right? After...the wedding?"

Gil blushed faintly, and she could see in real time as he realised that he too would be required to execute a very romantic first dance with her in front of the rest of his family. "Oh."

Thena nodded, her own embarrassment worsening as Gil's added to it. "So, I agreed because I figured I could take all the practice I could get."

"Uh, well," Gil floundered, looking between Thena, sheepish in the crook of his elbow, and Kingo, who had his arms crossed at him with a petulant expression. His anger fizzled out and he gave Kingo a miserable little look, "sorry."

"I should think so," Kingo turned his nose up, although they could both see him grinning, lavishing in the drama of the moment. He held up his hands as he moved to side step them. "Never mind old Kingo, just trying to help-"

Gil grasped Kingo's sleeve before he could move on completely. He looked him in the eye, still holding Thena in his other arm. "I know you don't mean anything by it. But...it's the woman I love, Kingo. I need to know you really understand that."

Thena stayed silent through the exchange between brothers. Gil said it in a very convincing way (and her stomach was still in knots).

Kingo looked at Gil, and then at the hand grasping at him. He removed his grip before bumping his knuckles against Gil's gently. "I do, man. I really do--I wouldn't do anything to get in the way of that."

Then what was all this?

Kingo continued into the house, completely unbothered by the little scuffle.

Gil looked at her again, frowning, "sorry. A-Are you--I didn't mean to..."

She smiled, though. Fake-fiance or not, everything Gil did was out of sweetness. At least with her, it was. She nodded, "it's okay, Gil. You know he doesn't mean any harm."

"I know," he sighed, looking like a puppy getting a scolding. She had to laugh, tipping his chin back up (but it didn't stop him from pouting). "I just...I feel like every time I've got a good thing going for me, Kingo swoops in and--he doesn't mean to. I know he doesn't, but let's just say that when we all went to camp together, the girls weren't really asking him to pass their numbers on to me."

"Aw, poor Gilgamesh," Thena pursed her lips at him. He did roll his eyes, but he was smiling again! "You were a diamond in the rough--just needed more time for people to see your brilliance."

He smiled as she un-rumpled his sweater from when he came out in a huff. He was still holding her. "So, dance practice?"

"Hm," she hummed, not really wanting to dwell on it any more than they already had. "I admit I was intrigued by the idea that he could help."

"Well," Gil said quietly, still holding her waist and now grasping her other hand in his, "I'm here now. And I'm the one you're gonna be dancing with, right?"

He was. Thena drew in a breath as Gil started moving them. It was a little less smooth than Kingo had been, clearly a basic step he had learned some time in their youth.

"I probably need some practice myself," he mumbled, some of his usual shyness returning as he moved her hand his side up his chest to his shoulder.

"I-" she cut herself off before she could say something stupid, looking away from his deep brown eyes to stare into his chest instead, "I didn't want to interrupt you."

"Interrupt me anytime, Thena," he corrected her immediately, swaying them a little more easily the longer they maintained their proximity. "Especially for something like this."

She leaned closer, loosening as if their shared body heat were melting frost at her joints. "You're not half bad at this."

"Well," Gil smiled against her cheek, "I better get half good before our wedding, huh?"

[lumiccu]

If you cant have it make it or whatever

(3D Model of Eileen's pocket watch)

Check under the cut for the closeups of the watch

[robobee]

rereading heclanfic in hopes of making it legible and like. I do not remember a SINGLE thing that happens here

[apollo-zero-one]

Man I can't believe I had the chance to go to a performing arts school up through middle school and I fuckin quit after 6 months just because I got bullied. BRO YOUR HOMEWORK WAS POETRY!! YOU HAD TO PRACTICE DANCING TO COTTON EYE JOE AS YOUR BIG UNIT TEST. GYM CLASS HAD A CIRCUS UNIT!! YOU HAD A WHOLE DAILY CLASS ON IMPROV!!! YOU FOOL!! YOU ABSOLUTE IMBICILE!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN A YOUTUBER!!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ONE OF THOSE TWEENAGERS GETTING LOADED BY MAKING SHITTY YOUTUBE SHORTS IN 2008-14!! But noooOoooOOOoo little miss Noellie (who WANTED TO GO!! who worked SO HARD and sent in an application essay and did an INTERVIEW to get in!!) couldn't handle disruptive classmates or little scuffles and petty grudges and general Attitude of the other students and cried to mommy to put her back in public school. I am EATING MY HAIR over what Could Have Been. I COULD BE SOMEONE'S ANNOYING YOUTUBER!! I could be a DISGRACED DISNEY CHANNEL STAR!! I could be an America's Got Talent winner! A mild to moderately successful comedian! I could be making short films!! But no no no precious thin skinned baby me heard a few new cus words and watched a teacher get heckled and begged to give up The Dream in favor of?? Quiet math tests?? I am such a fucking quitter I quit everything the second it gets too hard I always take the out as soon as it's offered what's my fucking damage.....

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 09: learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days

Mistaken Identity + "You're a liar."

2093 Words; Pooter Pile AU

TW for injury

AO3 ver

The sound of water sloshing filled Three’s ears. It was cold around his ankles, flowing off into the darkness. He couldn’t see where it was coming from, or where it was going.

For lack of anything better to do, Three started walking, following the pull of the water.

Slowly, the water got deeper, climbing up his legs. Knee-high, the edge of his jacket soaking up cold water. Waist-high, the current so strong that it threatened to knock Three over.

Still, he persisted. The water was flowing somewhere, and it wasn’t like there was anything else to do. There was nothing but darkness stretching out around him. Darkness and water.

By the time the water was chest height, Three could see two glowing points in the darkness. No, not points—eyes.

Raz’ eyes.

“Um.” Three stopped. “Hi?”

Raz didn’t move. He stood atop the water, all of it swirling under him. Three wanted to take a step back, but the water was like a wall against his back, the current pushing pushing pushing—

“I bet you’re sooooo happy with yourself, huh” Raz said. “Soooo happy with the life you stole.”

That’s not true! Three wanted to shout. But when he opened his mouth, nothing came out but empty air.

“You took my clothes, my name, my friends.” Raz continued. “Bet you’re sooooo happy to have a family, aren’t you? Soooo happy that you switched places with me at the Rhombus.”

No, no he wasn’t—he wanted to go home, he never asked for this—

“You took everything from me!” Raz roared. The water pushed harder, threatening to pull Three under.

“I was just following directions!” Three defended. He didn’t choose to take Raz’ place, he didn’t ask for it—Miss Naumann simply decided he should, and when Miss Naumann decided on anything Three could do nothing but follow, because clones who didn’t follow got terminated—

The water was cold around Three’s neck.

“I’m sorry.” He said, for lack of anything better to say. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Raz didn’t say anything. He just turned away, the light of his eyes disappearing into the darkness.

Three stood alone, feeling the water tug and push against him. “I’m sorry.” He said again, his voice small against the darkness.

The water had no response for him.

He wasn’t sure he deserved one.

+=+=+=+=+

Awareness came to him slowly.

He was lying on something soft, his—Raz’—helmet gone. There was something sticky on his arm, and a bright light bearing down on his closed eyes. Something was beeping softly.

Three’s face scrunched up. His whole body ached in the vague kind of way that came with exhaustion, even though he couldn’t remember doing anything so tiring—the last thing he could remember was the birthday party.

(The birthday party that wasn’t for him.)

With a low groan in the back of his throat, Three opened his eyes. He was on a cot in… the Motherlobe’s medical wing? It looked like Raz’ memories of a hospital, but Three couldn’t fathom why he’d be in a hospital. It had to be the Motherlobe.

Augustus was sitting on a chair next to the cot, looking as exhausted as Three felt. Three opened his mouth, not even really sure what he wanted to say—

“Razputin,” Augustus breathed. He sounded so relieved—he looked it, too. “That was quite the scare you gave all of us.”

A pang of guilt shot down Three’s throat like a bitter pill. He tried not to grimace. “What—” he took a moment to sit up, “What happened?”

Augustus’ brow furrowed. “I was hoping that you’d be able to answer that question.” He admitted. “You…” he trailed off, looking for the words.

Three’s head was pounding. “I remember… water?” Water, water everywhere, crashing through his mind until he was the water—

Augustus nodded. “It felt like you had pulled up the entire river.” He said. “You were screaming.” His hands wrung together, his eyes filled with a vague guilt that Three couldn’t explain.

Three swallowed. “I think…” He grabbed the edge of the thin blanket. “It was like I was the water.” His voice came out as a whisper, small and uncertain.

For a moment, Three could have sworn that Augustus flinched. It was like a bolt down his spine, and he immediately felt guilty. Augustus had enough on his plate. He didn’t need to be worrying about a boy who was only a copy of his son.

“‘M tired.” Three laid back down. It wasn’t totally a lie. It wasn’t entirely the truth. Still, he let his eyes slip closed, unable to bear looking at the worried furrow of Augustus’ brow any longer. He didn’t deserve that worry.

“Of course, my son.” Augustus moved to pull the blanket up over Three, his hand brushing through Three’s hair. “Take all the time you need.” His footsteps receded towards the door.

Three waited a few moments longer before cracking open an eye. As it sounded, Augustus was gone from the room, leaving Three totally, utterly alone.

Three stared at the ceiling. Guilt curled in his stomach like a Gordian knot. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this care, this regard for his well-being. Not when he had taken the place of the real Raz.

He was an imposter, a falsehood, a pale copy. He didn’t deserve everyone’s care—not when he was lying to them all.

Three groaned, rolling over to face the wall. Four, Three reached out, Four, I need advice.

Four’s presence flowed across their connection, shimmering purple and gold. What’d you do this time?

Har har, Three snarked back. He clutched at the pillow, his brow furrowing. Please. His worries flowed like water through their connections, splashing against the barrier that was Four’s mind. He opened himself up completely, every doubt and worry held bare to the one person he could trust with anything, to the one person he trusted with everything.

Four listened in silence, swirling blue and green. Ribbons snaked around Three’s mind, whispers of reassurance and comfort.

Three curled up tighter. His archetype formed, the little drawing of Four in Raz’ performance outfit, and Three wrapped his arms around it. It wasn’t the real thing, but it was close enough, Three felt. He wished so desperately that Four could be here, real and whole. But he was alone, and Four was miles and miles away—no amount of wishing would bring Four here.

I think you already know what you’re going to do, Four finally responded.

Three started, his surprise a nettle on the current. You’re not going to try and talk me out of it?

Nah, Four’s reassurance was like a butterfly, fluttering around Three’s head. You know what you’re doing. And, his presence turned serious, it’s needed, I think. The reason he slid over wasn’t the reason Three was thinking—but Three couldn’t say that Four was wrong. It wasn’t right for him to pretend to be Raz—both for Raz, who deserved better than to have his place taken, and for Three, who should be known for who he was, instead of who everyone thought he was.

Right. You’ll cover for me? Three sat up. Raz’ helmet had been left on the chair by Augustus, waiting. Three hopped off the cot and grabbed it.

Always. Four affirmed. Stay safe.

Always. Three repeated. He pulled on his (Raz’, not his, never his) helmet and clambered up to the vent. He needed to be quick.

It was time to make things right.

+=+=+=+=+

Three pushed one more energy bar into his bag. It’d taken all of this psitanium, and the vending machine looked really sad with all of the energy bars bought out, but Three couldn’t be sure how long it’d take him to reach Miss Naumann’s secret lab. Better to be prepared.

The lobby was pretty much empty, the receptionist gone from her booth. In her place was a sign reading Out to Lunch - Will Be Back Shortly. Three wasn’t sure when she’d get back, but he was sure he didn’t want to be here when she did. The less people knew about his plans, the better. He couldn’t afford any more delays.

Three made one final check of his pack before turning to the doors. It’d be a long walk along the road leading out from the Motherlobe, and he only had enough money for one or two bus tickets. He had to make his escape quick, and get as much distance as possible before anyone realized—he couldn’t let anybody stop him or slow him down, lest Miss Naumann somehow figure out what he was doing.

(Four would give her normal reports for as long as he could manage, but Three didn’t like the possibility of his brother being caught in a lie. He had to be quick.)

The doors slid open. Three froze.

It was probably just a random employee—Three hoped it was just a random employee, and not someone who’d question what he was doing or where he was going. Please let it just be a random employee.

It was all for naught—Three’s hopes were dashed against the rocks as none other than Dion Aquato walked in through the entrance.

Dammit, I should have ducked behind one of the plants!

It was too late to do that, though—Dion had already spotted him, stopping in his tracks. They stood there in silence for a moment, Dion’s face flashing through a mess of emotions that Three wasn’t in the right headspace to bother deciphering—

“They let you out already?” Dion’s incredulity struck a chord in Three. He was carrying a small basket under his arm—Three could smell the apple and cheese pierogies hidden within.

“Uh, yeah…?” Three tried. Okay. He could still do this. He just needed to get around Dion without raising any suspicion. Dion could be pretty gullible, sometimes, so surely this wouldn’t be hard—

Dion snorted, eyebrow raised. “You snuck out, didn’t you?” His gaze fell to Three’s bulging bag—to the energy bar sticking out through the flap—then snapped back up to Three. “Oh, god, what are you up to now? Can’t you go five minutes without giving everyone around you heart attacks?”

“I’m not doing anything!” Three protested. It was none of Dion’s business, anyway.

“Really?” Dion put his hands on his hips, the basket swaying slightly at the motion. “Then why are you sneaking out with a bag full of food?”

“What food?” Three responded. Wait, no, there was no way Dion was going to believe that—

Dion pinched the bridge of his nose. He grumbled something incoherent before turning his attention back to Three. “You’re clearly going somewhere.” He pointed out. “And you wouldn’t be sneaking out if it wasn’t something you’re not supposed to be doing. So spill.”

“I’m not even going that far this time.” Three grumbled. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“This time? What—” Dion’s eyes widened. His face twisted into a snarl. “Oh, no,” Dion stepped in front of him, “No, you are not doing this again.” His voice strained ever so slightly, his shoulders tense in a way that Three had never seen before. “You are not running away again.”

Well, shit.

“‘M not running away.” Three muttered. If anything, he was going home. And really, Dion should want to have his brother—his real brother—back home.

But Dion didn’t know any of this, and Three didn’t have the time to explain it. He tried to step to the side, to go around Dion—

Dion matched his step. “Raz.” He spat through gritted teeth. “You are not doing this.”

“Yeah, I am!” Three distantly registered the sound of a levball popping behind him, distantly registered two more minds landing behind him.

He shoved his way past Dion—he didn’t have time for this.

Dion grabbed Three’s shoulder, as if to pull him back. “Razputin Callisto Palmiro Aquato—”

“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!” Pressure exploded outwards from Three’s head. The basket went flying, scattering pierogies all over the floor.

Dion had been knocked clear off his feet. He wasn’t moving. Dion was lying on the ground, Frazie and Gisu rushing over to him, and he wasn’t moving—

Three looked on in shock. He didn’t—he hadn’t meant to—

Dion was sitting up, now, a hand pressed to his temple, his face scrunched in pain. Gisu and Frazie turned to look at Three��

He needed to leave. Now.

“I need to go.” Three hopped onto a levball, already backing away. “Right now. I’m sorry.” The door opened behind him. Frazie was already standing, stunned anger on her face—

Three bolted.

[allycat75]

A couple of things, Boston Dumb Fuck.

One- did they mention "Knives Out" because that was the last time you experienced a modicum of post-Marvel success, and will experience for the foreseeable future?

Two- Do your hands cramp after twisting your fingers into this oragami octopus, just to hide that Nazi-loving shame band? Don't worry, you can shove it deep into your pocket like a deviant or into your mouth like a weirdo soon enough.

Three- Do you understand how far up Shits Creek without a paddle you are? Your Berlin interviews alone should be enough to bury you, even if this "film" was going to be a success. Do you see what a mess you are and how much help you need just to return to sea level? Or have you told so many lies and been programmed over and over so long you don't even register human humiliation anymore?

Get some serious help because your off screen performances have been nothing but obnoxious, smug, dissociative and quite frankly, frighteningly unstable.