#now all i gotta do is make sure i got everything i need.. like extensions and such | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doubleddenden · 1 month ago

Text

Up next, gen 7

The Alola starters at first glance are a very pleasing palette of different but vibrant colors, fitting for such a place as Alola. Their unifying theme is something of a circus act, or entertainment, but they can also be an extension of their gen 6 predecessor's rpg theme, and counters their preceding starter types very efficiently with their secondary types. As a group, people used to meme about how slow they were, but one is clearly amazing enough to be a repeat contender in Worlds, one is a fan favorite, and... well... one is certainly a Pokemon lol.

I will say that I like each, but this gen really ramps up the humanization of starters in a way I just can't stand, and two of the final evolutions just... they're disappointing the same way Emboar is. It feels like someone in office thinks you can't make a starter anymore unless the fans wanna fuck em somehow or you can make memes out of them. Good for marketing I guess, bad for design.

Still, really nice base designs and middle evos, and their signature Z moves? Perfection. A collective 8/10

More under the cut, but I do warn that I won't hold back for Incineroar or Primarina.

Rowlet is by far and large the most popular grass starter imo, especially the most popular from gen 7. I wasn't buying into the hype when I first saw it, but I eventually got owl pilled. And lemme tell you. Borb is the shape of friend. Although as time went on, I became a fan of the entire line, while most of the hype I feel stops at Rowlet.

But as far as design goes, it's very simple: round owl. No notes. Okay there's also a little leaf bow tie, some green under its wings, and it has a color that's pretty similar to tropical trees. There's hardly tail feathers, but that's not really the point of it. Like Oshawott, I feel like it became a victim of "too cute to evolve" in the anime, which is a bit of a shame. Still, that's a good bird right here. In fact, interesting to think about, Rowlet can be both your starter and regional bird, much like Ash's. 9/10

Dartrix... is definitely a teen trying to be mature. It's not a bad design, but I do think they could stand to spice it up a bit. Guess that's what evolution is for, eh? 7/10.

Decidueye didn't hit with me at first because... why didn't it hit? I honestly can't remember. All I can say now is that this is my favorite grass type starter now. I love the colors and the cowl, and I love a giant owl- er, giant bird, and Decidueye just hits all the cool spots for me with a draw string bow and arrow set up. This bird also the first starter to drop one secondary typing for another through evolution, going from flying to part ghost. Sure, like it's Alolan gen mates, it takes it niiiice and slow, but design wise it's cool as hell, and I consider it my personal grass starter of choice. It's in a situation similar to Samurott where I feel like Ash should have had it, but because of "it's too cute to evolve itus", the attention went to the fire type. In any case, mine are cool. 9/10.

All in all, the Rowlet line is super cool and fun. I've said everything I need to say, 9/10.

"Litten is lit." Did I just make you feel old? That meme is almost 10 years old. How about that. Well, as a man that's spent the last year becoming a cat uncle, I can certainly say this is a little buddy.

The colors are extremely pleasing on the eye, although I gotta say that this design- while I like it- ventured further away from the traditional style than I was used to. Big head little body returns again, but especially with big eyes and little mouth. I think it does it better than Fennekin, though. Yeah, little dude indeed. 8/10.

Torracat I think actualizes what was missing from Litten with better proportions all around. It looks like a feisty cat! It does kind of lose a bit of the color I love on Litten, but the rest makes up for it. I especially love it's little bell flame. I think I like this one best from it's line. 9/10

... and then they let the furry into the office... *again.*

Okay look, I get that a ton of people like it because it is a wrestling heel, and I can appreciate that, especially it's Z move. I can also appreciate that this guy dominates vgc and Worlds and has for years in place of Shillzard. I can appreciate all of that in a very ironic sense. You're supposed to hate how much he wins and all that.

... but godddddd it shouldn't be a STARTER. Litten should've become a cool black and red flaming tiger on all fours! Not the 4th Fire/fighting scare on two legs that was probably only changed to dark to avoid angry fans. My issue is that I cannot see this guy being a wild animal, I see it on tv selling cereal or getting bonked on the head by a cartoon Pikachu. I cannot see this thing as a monster, either. I also just can't appreciate it when those fucking sausage fingers detract so much. Incineroar should have been it's own separate pokemon, then I could appreciate it more. As is, it's just another bad human starter design, even if it is competitively good. And I'm sorry, but the only people that say this is their favorite are comp players who probably don't even know it evolves from Litten and Torracat because they gen these things perfect, or from people that wanna fuck it, because I cannot imagine anyone unironically liking it design and concept wise. As a joke, sure, that's about the level I'm at, but... God, I just want a proper tiger evolution for this line. 5/10 on design, sorry. I can like it in a "wow this is fucking cringe and weird af" angle, but not seriously. Please. Please stop humanizing the Pokemon.

The litten line was lit, but I remember seeing one of the first leaks of Incineroar and thinking "wow that is fake af. There's no way that's real." And then Mallow was confirmed. Just... yeah. I guess it's good that a newer gen non gen 1 pokemon got love, but god why did they have to ruin it with Tony the Tiger? 6/10.

Popplio is an adorable little guy I had high, high hopes for when I first saw it. Those were dashed pretty quickly, but at least Popplio is cute. That's a friend anyway. The colors are a nice deep blue with a little white and pink. Design wise, you can really see the circus motif setting up with its nose and collar. It's a cute little guy. I was hoping it'd become another cool sea lion like Samurott, but in hindsight i really shouldn't have expected that. I will say, I think a gripe I have is that it must be difficult to be a starter if you're not near water or carrying it most of the time. 9/10.

Brionne isn't a bad design, I do feel that it's not really meant to be a starter, though, as it's clearly meant to be more aquatic. Still, it's a nice cute design with lots of frills and nice colors. It's basically a cuter Popplio imo. Definitely more girly than I'd like for a starter, which I think should be more gender neutral, but like I said, cute. 9/10.

Lastly, Primarina. Again, I don't dislike the design and I don't think it's bad for it to be more girly than usual, but this just isn't a *starter* pokemon. I think the concept is neat, but as a starter, I think you could've gotten more mileage out of a big ass sea lion or seal balancing a rock or bubble on its nose than going furry little mermaid. Again, it's a fine design, I do like the colors used and I especially love the pink in the blue and green eyes, but... yeah. It is a decent first Fairy type starter. But there's probably a reason its not on most comp teams or anyone's favorite, and like Incineroar, i just can't see it as a natural Pokemon in the wild. 6/10

The Popplio line is not meant for everyone, but after using it. I can say it gets the job done. But I feel like it could have tried to be less... challenging to like. I'm just saying, I know how kids are, and my nephew would probably throw a fit if he got Primarina from a starter he randomly picked. For that matter, my nieces would also think it's weird and probably release it. It's a 7/10.

Next will be Galar. I'm gonna go ahead and say that if you don't like my opinions here, you won't like em there.

#pokemon #dd reviews pokemon #pokemon gen 7 #alola starters #rowlet #Incineroar #popplio #dartrix #Decidueye #litten #torracat #brionne #primarina

7 notes · View notes

lumine-no-hikari · 3 months ago

Text

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #414

My brain is doing its level best today to try to convince me that I am not lovable and that everything is pointless.

I can also tell, by a variety of other cues, that it's getting closer to the next time I'm supposed to bleed.

...I now know that these two thing are related. I don't need to allow hormone-induced feelings of apathy and worthlessness get the better of me. I can tend to myself properly in the here and now. I'll make sure to hydrate and eat properly.

I made a tea when I woke up – the biscuit-flavored one. I sweetened it with honey, molasses, and mascarpone. But I didn't think to get a picture. Sorry about that.

J wanted me to accompany him on the way to the little airport; he wanted to try flying his little plane on a very breezy day, and today was that day. He wasn't prepared to take me up with him, what with the breeze being like this, so I chilled out in the little office building and worked on my weird crafting project. At the same time, some new person from the friend-making app who lives in Russia decided to message me for reasons I don't understand.

The conversation was pleasant enough. Though, he asked some very specific questions about the structure and flow of my relationship with M and J, which I was not opposed to answering. Still, I guess I get surprised by the number of people who imagine that what I have going on is some kinky, freaky sex thing rather than a mostly ordinary marriage with an atypical number of people.

To be sure, our main focus within our relationship is on who we are as people, how well we treat each other, and how effectively we communicate. I am intimate with them, but... that's not really where the focus is. The focus is on spending time with each other and making sure we understand each other well. We're people, not toys for each other's entertainment.

...It's actually kinda frightening, the number of people who don't seem to understand that other people aren't just fun toys to play with or mere extension of their own will. It's frightening, the number of people who don't understand that a healthy relationship between people looks like “two or more loving, consenting adults doing their best to meet the needs of everyone involved”, not like “an adult putting up with the quirks of their live masturbatory aid(s) in order to get that fresh hot nookie.”

I am NO ONE'S convenience object. Not anyfuckingmore. And never, EVER again.

...And neither are you, you know. You're no one's weapon, tool, or machine. You are you. Start acting like it, okay? Or at least work on becoming someone who can act like it. And if you need help, pop by my house and we'll teach you. Because we don't treat people like objects in my house. We'll show you what it means to be treated like an ordinary human being. Because you are an ordinary human being, underneath all those layers of pain you carry.

That one immigration lawyer that we got help from sent along a request by some Canadian radio show place to talk to trans folks who are seeking to escape the United States in favor of Canada. I am a non-binary human – a woman in the same way that a tomato is a fruit. I am mostly happy with my current reproductive equipment, but... I feel like I'm “missing bits”, if you catch my drift. Essentially, I have only half of what I feel like I should be equipped with, and it bothers me sometimes.

I was emailed by this radio show place. And then I was called for a preliminary interview. I struggled to keep my thoughts organized over the phone, but... I guess I did a good enough job, according to the person who spoke to me. I guess I'll be summoned via an internet meeting software called Zoom at some point tomorrow. I guess lots of folks will hear me.

...This scares me. But... I gotta be brave and use my voice for good things whenever I can. I have to try to do... something. Anything.

...Y'know. Sephiroth. I really didn't wanna hafta live through “interesting times”. And I'm sure you didn't wanna hafta do that, either, over there in your world. Really, I just wanna eat tasty snacks and sing and make cool things and play video games and go swimming and take naps with the people I like. I'm sure you can relate to this – this desire for an ordinary, wholesome life.

...Let's both do our best within the timelines we live in anyways, though, okay? Let's try to do good things. Let's try to be kind, and let's try to make gentle, loving choices so that we can inspire others to do the same.

...And hey, who knows, maybe if... maybe if I eventually get scooped up into a prison camp and executed just for being myself... maybe somehow I'll get to go see you. And I'll say hello and tell you how you saved my life when I was a teenager and how much I love you just because you're you. And maybe I'll tell you all about the stories that happened to me before you came into my life, and everything that happened between then and now. And maybe... just maybe... one full human life, existing in stark defiance of all that tried to snuff it out, can be enough to show you that you are a good thing, and to inspire you to make choices in light of that belief.

In the meantime, I guess I'll figure out something to eat, and then I'll smash up some zombies in Hades. You can come chill with me if you want to:

twitch_live

I love you. Stay safe. Be good. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

9 notes · View notes

maxwell-grant · 1 year ago

Note

thoughts on Tekken8 so far ?

Not too many, I have mostly mixed feelings on Tekken stuff but:

Okay this rules, this is a killer fucking idea for a fighting game story mode. I was actually just thinking the other day about how a lot of modern fighting games with big story modes can't really integrate the tournament structure into the story, so it's either not there or it becomes a schrodinger's tournament. But here there's no mistaking it, there is a King of Iron Fist tournament being held and fighters the world over are invited to join with their lives and with the lives of their ENTIRE COUNTRIES riding on the line. This rules, this fucking rules, I'm pissed Street Fighter didn't do this first because this is the most M.Bison idea that is also a way better plot than anything M.Bison ever did, fuck yeah.

I've heard this described as Tekken doing the Cell Games and having never watched Dragon Ball I'll have to take their word for it.

Don't care about Jin, never have really, but I am at least marginally curious as to how they'll square "Jin you are the light and hope of this world you are the hero of everything you must save us all" and "you totally fucking killed millions of people for no reason with that WW3 stunt dude". Love that Kazuya throws this in his face like, you weak little shit, you think you're putting me down? You think YOU have some kind of body count? Well it's just gonna keep growing watch this *BWOOOOOM

Tekken has spent a loooot of games running in a loooot of circles around the Mishima bloodline drama so this game promising to blow things out of proportion, with Heihachi dead (so far) and Kazuya cutting loose and the entire world seriously on the line, well okay that has my interest.

Gotta be honest folks, up until now I actually hated Azucena. Decent design, Peruvian representation is extremely rare and I was super on board for that, really liked for a beat how her fighting style's meant to abuse Tekken's 3D space with a lot of dodging and swaying... but then the character started talking and, oh great, she only talks about food, she's a gimmick character that only talks about her gimmick, here comes the next annoying latin-american stereotype that the gringos just find sooo charming and sexy and funny, here comes the next El Fuerte/Laura/Zarina, and all my interest died.

And then the latest story trailer revealed that she's happily teaming up with the G Corporation (and by extension Kazuya, you know, the guy currently raining fire and murder on the entire planet) because they make for "better brand optics for my coffee" and, huh. Well. Turns out she's a total piece of shit! The "beloved for her innocent personality" thing was a dead giveaway looking at it now. Turns out she's a business major cracking winks and poses while tanks and soldiers steamroll the land and people around her. You hear a lot of stories growing up here about plantation owners being cutthroat ghouls and I must admit, it's pretty great seeing that as the twist on a typically obnoxious Disney inclusivity cartoon person, feels very topical. Maybe it is just a rehash of Lucky Chloe's twist but Lucky Chloe wasn't that inspired to begin with where as this feels a bit more thought out. I expect to be ultimately dissappointed but it sure got me almost kinda liking her a bit.

Big year for evil women in fighting games.

Feels like Tekken was just bound to have a Nick Fury at some point with other fighting games elevating characters to that position, but it is pretty weird that this a thing, right? I guess when they're going more into world-threatening stakes and characters teaming up being treated like an Avengers gathering you kinda need a Nick Fury or several to glue that nonsense together. Anyway, Victor's pretty cool. Kinda shocked that he's the first French character in Tekken apparently.

It's not easy to make me like espionage-themed characters in fighting games but he's got enough style to him that I appreciate. He's just Vincent Cassel if he was a John Wick guy with a weird Final Fantasy sword but that's not like a bad combo by any means, really just seems like Harada really wanted to put a guy he likes from da movies in there. It's the Kojima impulse but hey, if it works and the voice acting isn't terrible (like a certain other studio, seriously how do you manage to get such lackluster material out of J.K Simmons doing Omni-Man), I'm cool with it.

I'm not too sure what to think of Reina? I feel like that's gonna be entirely dependant on her role in the game, because the other two are fairly throwaway characters where as her they seem to be putting a lot of stock in. I kinda like her design although I appreciate it better in fan art that lets her actually emote and look mean, the in-game face is just way too dull for what she's doing. I like the ego she's got and that she can back it up, that she's this new mystery newcomer with potential arriving to shake up the scene. I think a lot about her would be very generic and forgettable if it wasn't backed up by her mean punk personality and power, which I really appreciate. She kinda feels like if Asuka wasn't a joke. I'm just curious as to what her actual role is gonna be, and while I don't think she's gonna be a full blown villain the way Kazuya is, I'm gonna be pretty dissappointed if she just immediately slides into being a hanger-on hero. So I'm just waiting for more on her with cautious optimism.

I hope Heihachi never comes back because A: it's just wrong to have him without Unsho Ishizuka to voice him, and B: I hope they never ruin the humor of "Yeah he's dead dead but he has at least 20 bastard children all over the world and at least one of them is gunning for the throne so if you thought he was done causing problems or that the Mishima Bloodline would end with Jin, lmao"

#replies tag #fighting games #tekken #namco #jin kazama #azucena #vincent cassel #reina mishima #tekken 8

25 notes · View notes

morwensteelsheen · 7 months ago

Text

Easily the most insane story idea I’ve ever had under this cut

Rosgondren: And that’s a timeout called there by Edoras’ Coach Háma, with just under a minute left on the clock here at the thrilling final game of the 3016-3017 NUAA women’s basketball season.

Alweth: For sure, for sure—and Coach Háma is right to take that timeout here, he’s got one of the best clutch players in the game in Éowyn Éomundsdottir, he’s just gotta have faith in her.

Redhangol: The numbers don’t lie, but you know, in moments like these with everything on the line, the stats fall away and it’s all about the hustle mindset—and does Éowyn really have that? I don’t know, I don’t know!

Alweth: (laughing) What? You don’t know if she has the hustle mindset? C’mon man—we’ve watched her entire career and she’s got nothing but hustle—

Rosgondren: —that’s us about to go back into play, Edoras spaced nicely around the arc—

Redhangol: —well she’ll have to prove it in the big leagues—

Alweth: —big leagues? She’s in one right now! The Towers are already clambering for trades to secure her at this summer’s WMBA draft—

Redhangol: —well league talent has been a little thin on the ground lately. She’s good no doubt, no doubt, but how good?

Alweth: (laughing) Come on!

Rosgondren: —And we’re back, that’s a clean pass from Leofric in—oh no, tipped away by Dunland’s Angwun and—OH! Recovered by Éowyn!

Alweth: Wow! Would you look—

Rosgondren: —Derwent forces Éowyn back behind the arc, reinforced by Cledwun, oh this is a tight spot she’s really being forced back here—fifteen seconds left on the clock, it might be an ignoble end to a remarkable season for the University of Edoras—and THERE IT IS!! THERE IT IS LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, WITH TWO SECONDS LEFT ON THE CLOCK, AN INSTANTLY ICONIC LOGO THREE BY ÉOWYN ��OMUNDSDOTTIR. (Excited laughing) It’s not often we get to see legends born in real time, but Éowyn has done it—wow! What an end to the season.

🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀

It would be a stretch to call it a positive omen that the Minas Tirith Mariners’ esteemed head coach had called his first timeout not a minute into the potential series finale of the Northern Conference Finals. In fact, the mood of the Dagorlad arena crowd had gone from nervous to gleefully hostile as soon as the call was made: if the Mariners were already showing their bellies, the series might yet be extended.

Within the team huddle, the mood was no cheerier. Coach Denethor, a veritable giant of the sport in his prime and an even mightier coach after it, gestured pointedly at his whiteboard. He was not one for theatrics, and he raised his voice only to be heard over the thundering crowd.

“We have practiced this extensively—you are to stay out of the paint after executing your screen.”

“It makes no sense here,” answers Faramir, his youngest son and the team’s beleaguered (point) centre. ��Damrod’s a way better size match for Abarrán. If I hold back here it slows the backcourt down—we can’t afford that.”

“You mean it puts you in a better position to grab the rebound, but the rest of your team trusts in Damrod to follow through.”

Damrod, a rather compact guard, looks immediately uncomfortable to be dragged into the argument.

“So do I,” says Faramir, a touch defensively, “but they’re faster than us in transition, we need whatever we can get to gum them up.”

Cut to Faramir preparing to go out for the Minas Tirith Mariners in the Northern Conference Finals against the Dagorlad Aurochs; he gets into an argument with his head coach father about something, and Denethor says something about Boromir knowing how to do it better. Faramir still has to go out and play, and it’s immediately clear how dominant a hooper he is; the Mariners win the series to proceed to the league finals against the Harad Warriors.

Resources

Moach playbook

W playbook

Arike Ogunbowale highlight reel

Bill Russell highlight reel

#e writes #wnbéowyn #I think im sooooooooo funny

4 notes · View notes

augustheart · 1 year ago

Text

hooty and charlie drawings Rated

first i came for the live action hawkman and hawkgirl wings... then for their comic book counterparts... now without further ado, i introduce you to an extensive rating of hootie and charlie illustrations done by comic book artists who have seemingly never seen an owl in their lives. i will be using the spelling "hootie" even though comics are very inconsistent about whether it's spelled with a y or an ie.

this post is going to be pretty long, so everything is under the cut.

this hootie is a 4/10. we're starting off strong with a golden age contender. despite the low rating, i really like the care that went into illustrating this little guy. is it possible to tell what kind of owl he is? not really. but you know, that's okay. he can be greateasternscreechhorned. he's got the spirit. and i love how talkative he is. however, seeing this makes me wonder what went so wrong with hawkman's wings in the same era...

this hootie is a 4/10. just a little guy! not sure what's happening with his beak but that's okay because he's just little. once more i am fond of the golden age's owl illustrations.

this hootie is a 5/10. he is extremely Eyes. here we have a rare interpretation of hooty as an owl that is clearly not in the bubo genus and is instead... i dunno. strix? maybe? i can't tell what species he is but you know what i'll let it slide because he is So Eyes.

this hootie is a 8/10, despite being from the same issue as the one above. clearly a strix owl now, probably a barred although the coloring is more similar to a tawny. i won't hold coloring choices against them quite yet though. we've got the right proportions, we've got some chest barring, we're doing good.

this hootie is a 1/10 but it does make me cry laughing every time i look at him so that's gotta count for something.

this hootie (XIV) is a 2/10. just an assortment of lines that runs around charles' office. points for being beth's friend.

this charlie is a 8/10. not much detail going on but we can put that down to the stylization. the eyes are the right color for a great-horned owl and i can see a female being that size. her plumicorns being in a relaxed position is cute. i do think that the method of summoning her with a piece of raw chicken was a terrible idea, but i guess no worse that charles feeding hootie lobster off his fork.

this charlie is a 5/10. hey man What is going on here. the white under the bill is like someone saw the white chest patch great horned owls have and went "awesome, that's all the photo reference i need to see" and then went at it. why is the wing partially white. is that the wing? at least the eyes are still the right color even if they should Not be angled considering owls famously cannot move their eyes at all.

this charlie is a 8/10. the anatomy is solid with a nicely defined facial disk and the expression without the eyes being able to move is adorable. also realistically huge feet--nobody ever seems to remember how big owl talons are. not much of a defined pattern but i like it.

this charlie is a 4/10. this looks like an owl i would draw. that's not a compliment. the shape is just a Suggestion. it's close to being good but it does not sell me.

this charlie is a 2/10. who the Fuck is that. why are they tiny and white.

this charlie is a 4/10. all the right pieces are there but we could do with some better assemblage, and there's not really any markings. unlike the charlie above that i ranked a 7 there's not even a suggestion of them. could be worse though.

this charlie is a -1000/10 i fucking hate this thing every time i have to look at it. the longer you stare the worse it gets. utterly abysmal.

#long post #i guess i'll tag #doctor mid-nite

17 notes · View notes

khiphop-discussions · 5 months ago

Text

RAP: PUBLIC Ep.9 Part 1 Thoughts

"When it's survival, tongue is a double-edged sword" - "Notorious Thugs" Notorious B.I.G ft Bone Thugs N Harmony

The deathmatch is a team performance where the 1st place block has all members survive, 2nd has 1 member survive (2 eliminated), 3rd has all 3 elimination candidates survive.

Osun seems like he's taking the loss really hard. Khundi Panda, Owen, and JP volunteer as elimination candidates.

Osun feels responsible for it but group 5 would have still lost without any of the people who came over. Group 4 was just better at that specific mission. Osun was great. The whole block was.

Kaogaii (Block 6) chose Joonie, Odomar, and Kohway as elimination candidates. I still don't 100% agree with this. Didn't all 3 candidates do well? But I also understand the need to keep Geegooin. I think he's one of the MVPs of Block 6, despite his mistake in the last mission.

Over at Block 2, Loopy is still down so everyone tries to pick him up. Shyboiitobii is also still the go to guy for hooks. OK, that makes him really important to the team then. I wonder who Khan will choose as the elimination candidates.

Loopy is out of it so Tobii wants the younger members to take responsibility. This is interesting. It's starting to seem kinda like Khan is president and Tobii is vice president. It's an interesting dynamic since Loopy and Jtong are there. I expected that they would be taking most of the charge as the oldest. It's nice to see them (well Tobii, since Khan's already the official leader) step up especially since Loopy is still upset at the moment.

OK so Khan asks if they shouldn't put Loopy as an elimination candidate. I feel like Loopy probably WANTS to be a candidate to save the younger members. If Block 2 wins, then everything is great. However, I think Loopy may feel even WORSE if the younger members (or even Jtong, I'm not sure of foggy's age but I assume younger than Loopy) gets eliminated since he still believes his mistake is a big contribution to block 2's loss. He may feel like that's his fault too by extension. At least, that's how I think I'd feel in a similar situation.

I know that Block 2 is doing this to be nice though so I understand. Also, because Loopy is an important part of the team, as far as performance and mentorship, it's really bad to lose him.

Yes, this is tobii's time to shine like he said. I've been waiting for his moment all season. I wanna see him give his best.

Khan chooses Shyboiitobii, Xwally, and Nosun or Raf Sandou? He vaguely gestured in their direction so idk who the last member was. We'll see though.

Block 6 is up. The GD&Top reference to "Don't Go Home" is so cheeky lol

Since is really that girl. She kills it every time.

Joonie also did well. Geegooin too. This team is solid overall. They even got Loopy to smile again haha. Nice!

Wait, I didn't know Geegooin could dance lol!

This is a good performance. But at the moment, I feel like the other 2 teams could top it. So let's see.

Oh also I liked the "Like Lexy, Get Up. Like Kitsyoji, Get Up!" Lyric. Love it when they reference rappers not on the show

Block 5 up next. Owen immediately messes up but gets back on track. It was so early on in the performance that people may not remember it.

Luci Gang's solid as usual. Hash Swan too. Oh man, Osun is really good. I gotta check his music out when I get a chance. I've only heard him on "GWTM (remix)" so far.

Khundi and JP did great as well.

At the moment, Block 6 definitely outdid Block 5 as I see it.

OK, now Block 2. This should be the most trendy performance based on the members in this block.

They got in formation at the beginning. Tobii came out the gate yelling at us.

Polodared says they're are the trendiest.

Jtong's rap definitely brings a more unique vibe to the block's songs.

Khan's verse is my favorite.

I like the "2 Block, We still going up" chant.

Oh shit, I forgot Nosun was gonna rip the shirt lol!

It's hard to call. I think Block 6 was still really good. But Block 2's performance is really shocking. Tobii being so loud all of a sudden probably left a big impression since so far he's been more cool, calm, and collected every performance. Then, Khan's verse. Nosun ripping the shirt. I didn't even realize that Loopy mostly sat this one out. They were still able to carry a great performance without him being too involved so I think that shows the level of talent.

I gotta be honest, I'd rather see Block 2 win. I still wanna see more Xwally, Nosun, Raf Sandou, and obviously Tobii performances. But...I ALSO know that MAJOR SPOILER: Joonie has a song on ep.10. idk if Kaogaii would have chosen to keep her over odomar or kohway... Especially since, earlier this episode, he said he'd move to keep Kohway over the other 2 if it came down to it.

Block 6: Odomar, Joonie, Kohway

Block 5: Luci Gang, Khundi Panda, Owen (I think everybody knows block 5 is getting last place so everybody is kinda shocked cause we can tell all 3 will be eliminated)

Block 2: Raf Sandou, Shyboiitobii, and Xwally

Khan is crying..fuck! *Hugs*

This is hard. Raf and Tobii are both important so far in the missions. Both are always standouts so if they don't get first place...this is bad.

Block 6 is first. Damn...

Hash Swan and Loopy are both upset.

Damn, Block 2 got second place by 2 votes. So Luci, Khundi, and Owen all leave.

Khan might end up eliminating his close friend, Tobii. Oh no, he saved him. So Xwally and Raf go. Damn, raf is lowkey but if you really look through his performances he was solid. Hard loss but Raf is still in a good position outside the show so he can keep his head up.

I said I wouldn't speak on Owen unless necessary but I feel it's necessary here. I ALSO, don't think his mistake here is the reason why they got last. It's another situation where the other blocks just had a better prepared performance. Block 5's biggest mistake from the mission and the deathmatch is not having enough emphasis on performance aspects. Everybody in this team is known for being more rap oriented than for trends, performances, and catchy songs. Well maybe Hash Swan is a bit more mixed between catchy songs and trends.

Unfortunately, hip hop survival shows are always very heavy on performance since they are live (prerecorded for us obviously), visual shows instead of being mostly based on album songs. So people who are more heavily on the rap side are actually at a disadvantage if they can't adjust quick enough or get more performance based people to balance things out. It's weird but it is what it is.

Luckily for Block 6, it seems like they've achieved the perfect balance of both.

So many people are crying. Even the winning teams that didn't compete are crying. Jeffrey White is crying, likely because Raf got eliminated.

No shade...but this still isn't as bad as when the leaders had to compete on the eliminated candidates' behalf. This one seems a bit more fair to me since everyone competed.

In my opinion, I feel like voting the strongest members as elim.candidates is too risky now. It worked out well for Haon in the beginning but since the deathmatch format changes a lot it's too risky. People should go back to choosing the "weakest" again. Even then, I know it's still hard to choose.

Since and Hippie went to comfort Luci. So sweet. Damini and Dommiu also went to check on her seperately. The female solidarity I LOVE it!

Bro, why is everybody so obsessed with assigning fault or blame? Like this is a show with some STRONG ass competition. You win some, you lose some. Nobody is at fault. The talent level is just crazy as fuck!

I know, I know, It's easy to say that as a viewer. If I was there though then I'd probably feel the same.

#khh #khiphop #korean hip hop #rap:public

2 notes · View notes

wifegideonnav · 2 years ago

Note

VASKA. i need to know your opinions of her

VISPA 🥰

First impression

ok so going in i pretty much knew i was gonna have Opinions on her due to 1) the comparisons to ianthe and 2) her general notoriety. so i kinda tried to hold off on forming an impression until i got more info. honestly i think my biggest first impression was "that is NOT how i thought she would talk" lmaooo

obviously the way she's introduced you kinda go "well she sucks" but i love girls who suck so i was like theres gotta be more here. and i was right.

Impression now

babygirl. lmao. i mean i could literally go on for thousands of words with what i think about her but short version is that she is one of the best written hs characters and an incredible portrayal of a mentally ill teenage girl with an extensive history of being abused. she's my morally grey queen. my "god forbid women do anything" champ. failwoman of all time. yeah!!!!!!!!

Favorite moment

the vriska/(vriska) convo because i love pain. but i also love the entire saga of her going god-tier because lets be honest: letting an old enemy beat you almost to death with her bare robofists and then communicating with your "it's complicated" by mind-controlling him to write messages with your blood, begging him to finish the job is. cool as fuck. also terezi: remem8er. :(

Idea for a story

ok i made a like 3 note post saying this ages ago and never actually expanded on it but: vriska <> rose. i have put SO much thought into this. short version, they have both a lot in common and some pretty interesting foiling. on the surface, they're both fairly rash and destructive which would typically suggest that they would not be good moirails. BUT the ways in which they're destructive etc are fairly opposite: rose simmers, fumes, withdraws, over-intellectualizes, etc, whereas vriska is explosive, up-front, lashing outwards, acting without thinking. so rose pulls vriska back, makes her think, forces her to be introspective, and vriska spurs rose forward, prevents her from getting caught up in her own thoughts, makes her actually act.

i think rose would be very drawn to vriska from a psychology goldmine perspective, and i truly believe that vriska would benefit from having someone to talked to who did not grow up in alternian society, who can validate/explain how fucked up everything was, and especially someone she doesn't have history with, who's also strong enough to see the darkness in her without flinching.

also in the retcon timeline its as canon as anything retcon!meteorstuck that vriska is the reason rose is able to fix her drinking problem. which im fairly sure is something that any troll would view as being pale as fuck. anyway i could go on and on about this but this is already so long and i did say short version 💀

so i just think a meteorstuck fic where all 6 of the crew are forced to go through some actual on-page character development with vriska and rose at the center would be. good.

Unpopular opinion

honestly i dont think i have any super unpopular opinions about her? liking her is already unpopular enough lmao. so i guess i'll go with: shes a lesbian <3

Favorite relationship

vrisrezi. also my favorite relationship of the comic in general. something something soulmates. physically restraining myself from going off about this.

Favorite headcanon

im not sure this entirely counts as a headcanon but i love the idea of her slowly abandoning her spider/8 theme as she gets older and heals. like if you think about it it's pretty fucked up that her entire brand is based on 1) the guardian who would've killed her at any point in her childhood if she didn't do enough murder to satisfy her and/or 2) just the general role she was forced into based on her horrific society

#thanks for sending this omfg #i love the internet you get obsessed with something/a character and people go yes queen tell us more #op #asks #hs

9 notes · View notes

sidhewrites · 1 year ago

Text

15! This one got long, it may end up being trimmed into two chapters. For now though, here's some exposition and research! Slight warning for suggested animal illness at the end, but I'll preface it with saying Renfield is fine and remains fine if a bit shaken throughout the entire book.

Project Info

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Magnus Sunthorpe, as it turns out, has a long history of paperwork that was only preserved due to negligence on the part of whoever cleaned out the archives. The file folder was stuffed full of moldering, century-old slips of paper, each in their own yellowed folder that had been stamped with date range of the contents inside, as well as a much more recent note that they had been digitally preserved.

"You think the old Librarian forbade anyone from throwing them out?" I ask, waggling my brows at Josie before, once again, being forced to contend with the fact that, actually, the Librarian could do exactly that. I bite back any discomfort, and force myself to say, "She seems the type to hoard everything."

She shoots me a distinctly unimpressed look while we request copies of each page from one of the living librarians back up on the first floor.

"What kind of research project is this supposed to be?" he asks. His name tag reads Carter.

I give Carter a smile. "A weird one."

"A biography," Josie clarifies.

He raises an eyebrow at me, correctly deducing that Josie is the brains of this operation. "These are gonna be due in two weeks, same as any library book. You need an extension, you gotta come in or call us so we can make a note." He takes us to the research stacks just past the children's library, and pulls two three-ring binders down, each labelled meticulously with dates and information. Carter deposits the binders in Josie's arms, and she promptly hands them off to me. "Is this for a class or something?" Carter asks.

"No." I barely manage to keep myself from adding that Josie's cat is possessed, and instead manage to stumble into a different, less suspicious line of conversation, "I think the lady who works downstairs doesn't like when you throw things out."

Carter pauses before placing the third binder on top of the other two. "Not in the least."

Josie's eyes gleam. "You know who she is?"

"I think I'd know my coworkers, yes."

"Don't you love this time of year?" I ask. "The weather is cooling off, the leaves are all red, and there seems to be spooky shit everywhere you turn. Especially in old creepy libraries."

"It's an old building. We're lucky the wifi works. Asking for things not to be spooky in the basement levels is just getting greedy."

"So you agree. The basements are spooky."

Josie kicks me lightly.

I give her my most innocent look.

"I just work here, ma'ams," Carter says, but he holds my gaze long enough to get the point across.

I nod, and Carter nods back, but there's too many people around to talk for long. He helps us check the records out and sends us on our way.

"So am I the only one around here who apparently sees ghosts, or do you think he's just imagining shadows and shit?"

Josie shrugs. "I'm sure you're not the only one. I wonder what the cause of it is."

"I had a near-death accident when I was fourteen. I was doing track and field after school and tripped over a hurdle. Nearly broke my neck. I was in and out of consciousness until I woke up and saw myself lying in a hospital bed hooked up to a hundred different machines and an IV. It was terrifying. I looked around and saw my parents there, red eyed and tired, and I looked out the window and saw this bright light, and a woman's voice telling me it's not my time yet. Go back, there were still so beautiful girls to woo and so much stupid shit left to do in this world."

She listens intently until i get far enough in to remove any doubt that I'm making everything up. "I can't believe you still don't -- I mean -- believe. You're literally dating a ghost."

"I'm not--" I start, and stammer. I mean -- I kind of am, aren't I? But my face flushes, and I get indignant regardless. "That's not --! We're not putting labels on anything yet!"

"So you're in a relationship. With a ghost."

"I..." I start. If I hadn't been carrying binders just then, I'd have thrown my hands in the air or gesticulated or something to burn off the sudden nervous energy building up in my limbs.

"It's okay, I'm not judging. Well -- I am, but it's not my place to tell you how to live your life anymore."

"It wasn't in the first place either," I mutter, and shake it off. We're almost to the edge of campus. "Lucy can only come out at night, so we've got some time until she can look things over. Should we...?" I shrug vaguely, not sure where I'm going with this.

[Transition]

Over the next few hours, Josie and I go through the bulk of the documents. Okay, she goes through the bulk of the pages, and I sit there and color code things with sticky notes. In my defense, research has never been my strong suit, no matter how interesting the subject, and I'd like a bit of praise for not giving up entirely and going on my phone.

The documents come together to form the story of a deeply unpleasant man. He brought his birth certificate with him when he came to Sutton, tracing his family back to a farm in Kentucky. He was one of eight kids, and moved in to town in [year]. He started keeping a journal a month in, which seemed to show him finally happy with his surroundings, surrounded by trees and peace and few people. Magnus hated everything about the people who lived in Sutton -- loud, friendly, often covered in sweat and sawdust, but he liked the solitude.

And then came the pages upon pages of formal noise complaints submitted to the mayor from [the year after he moved] all the way up until his death in [YEAR]. Seems like nothing got past him -- not a neighbor's hog farm causing a ruckus during feeding time in the morning, nor a colic baby being rushed to the doctor in the middle of the day. And if a party ran late in the bar, damn anyone who thought they could have a bit of fun on the weekend without there being trouble.

And then, finally, in [year], he faced his demise doing what he loved best -- being a dick. Magnus had come out on New Years Eve, lantern in hand, shouting to the good loggers who dared celebrate with drinks and music and shouting in town. He was shoved out of town and tossed into the stables -- which, the obit writer made sure to add -- hadn't been mucked in a few days.

A horse panicked and kicked him in the head. He was pronounced dead in the morning, presumably when everyone's hangovers became tolerable enough to leave bed.

In our search, we found a report someone put together of him back in the 1960s titled Sutton's Most Miserable Man by Oliver Proust. It seems, so says Oliver, Magnus was the reason Sutton created municipal complaint forms in the first place, as an unsuccessful attempt to put him off of whining so often to the mayor. He was also the main reason Sutton imported so much paper from a larger town before the mining boom caused the population to grow a decade or two after his death.

"Oliver was right on the money," I surmised, nodding resolutely at our handiwork. The pages had been sorted -- scanned diaries over here, municipal complaint forms over there. "The most miserable man in town, probably in all of history."

"See what Lucy has to say about it. Maybe she knows him?"

"What, like they haunt the graveyard together? You think they're ghost buddies?" Unfortunately, now that I say it, that sounds plausible. They may not be friends per se, but with how long and how sociable Lucy seems to be, I don't doubt that she knows some of the other ghosts in the cemetery. "I'll ask her tonight," I say, and then groan. That's going to mean breaking in. I'm getting frustratingly casual with breaking rules surrounding my job lately, and that's definitely going to spell trouble for me later.

While waiting for night to fall, I pace around my apartment, clutching my phone like it owes me money. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. It could cost me my job. It could ruin any future chances the graveyard might have of working with public figures. Mr. Ngo could be angry at me. A thousand worst-case scenarios play through my head, over and over again, but I just keep looking at Renfield, curled up next to the space heater.

At six, he doesn't get up for dinner. When I try to pet him, he lets out a quiet low growl.

I can feel him there. Magnus. Whenever I look away, I hear a rustling behind me, and I turn to see Renfield's head up, eyes open, pupils narrowed to a sliver. I know it's Magnus in there, watching me. Waiting to see what I'll do. There's no other option. I need help.

I pick up my phone and dial.

The number goes right to voicemail, but I plead my case all the same, begging for help. Or at least for half an idea what to do.

Come nightfall, I'm in the graveyard again, spreading the pages out on a bench for Lucy to look over as she stands off to the side.

"Does any of this look familiar to you?" I ask. My flashlight catches on her, and I have to remind myself that she's a ghost. Ghosts are real, and my kind-of-girlfriend is one herself. Even knowing all that, however, it's still so easy to forget. She looks as solid as I do, her face pale but catching the light like it should. There are such subtle signs of wrongness that, even looking for them, they're easy to miss. But her veil doesn't move in the slight breeze, and the grass below her feet remains undisturbed. Even the mud clinging to my shoes is nowhere to be seen on her outfit, the hem of her gown as spotless as if it was freshly cleaned.

She pores over the pages, either unaware or uninterested in my staring as she scans the pages, eyes darting back and forth from headline to municipal form to obituary.

"No, not a thing. I could ask around, of course. I'm sure someone from his time would have more answers than myself."

I nod. Magnus died thirty years before Lucy was born.

[conversation about ghosts and the different kinds? Lucy has vague acquaintances.] "But ghosts don't socialize in quite the same way. We're not...all here, not all the time."

"Like when the sun's out?"

She nods. "For me, yes. But the rules aren't wholly clear, and they seem to be shifting all the time for some spirits."

I shift my weight and wrap my arms around my knees. "What do you mean?"

[Orbs vs spirits with no corporeal/visual form, sometimes they're more aware of where thye are sometimes its just emotions or detached intentions of going home]

She stands and looks at the old tree, skirts rustling in a nonexistent breeze. It's like she has her own weather sometimes, the wind wherever she is entirely detached from the wind where I am.

"Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"I don't know. Life. Touching things? Eating. Changing your clothes. That kind of stuff."

She presses her lips together, gaze falling away. "I'm not sure. I've been dead longer than I was ever alive, and the world is so...big. There's so much to it now. And my memories of my life aren't always..." She pauses, trying to find the right words, but I think I understand this one.

"Yeah," I say, and rest my chin on my knees. "Like they're right there in front of you, and you know they're there, but you can't quite reach them anymore. You don't know where to look for them, right?"

"Exactly, yes."

"I get that sometimes. I mean -- I don't know if mine is the same as yours, but I have that sometimes."

"But you're alive."

"Eh." I shrug. "My brain's broken, but it's less broken now than I was when I was a teenager. Caffeine helps though." I lift my coffee in a toast.

"I don't follow."

"You want a brief history on psychiatric advancements of the 20th century?" It's a joke, but Lucy [looks at me like she'd like nothing more.] "Okay, sorry, that was an exaggeration. Basically, I have issues reliably paying attention and remembering things, among a whole slew of other stupid issues."

She nods, but I don't miss the hint of disappointment in her expression.

Before I realize what I'm saying, I blurt out, "I'll get a book from the library tomorrow. We can read it together, and I'll turn the pages for you. Deal?"

"Deal." Then, after a moment of deliberation, she says, "But why does coffee help?"

"Stimulants calm my brain down."

"Why?"

I shrug, and take a sip. "Because it's broken."

When I put my cup down, however, Lucy is looking at me, a crease furrowed between her brows.

"What?" I ask.

"Is it really?"

"Is what really?"

"Your brain. Is it really broken?"

"Oh. Nah." I laugh. "I'm just being dramatic. I'm fine now. Or, mostly anyway. Nothing too much coffee can't fix." Just to prove a point, I tilt my head back, and chug. I am the epitome of feminine grace.

Her concern doesn't let up.

I feel my smile falter under her gaze, and shrug. "It's fine, really."

"Kaz..."

I don't want to go into this. Not now. Not with her. "Look, I'm okay now. Really. I have some issues, but they're miles better now than when I was a teen."

Lucy makes a show of sitting on the bench, not even disturbing the papers I've set out, and patting the space next to her. Reluctantly, I gather the pages up and set them in my lap before sitting next to her. She doesn't talk first, just waits for me to be ready.

"Look...I mean it when I say I'm fine now, okay? There's problems, but it's manageable now. When I was a kid, you know..." I shrug. "I don't know when they came up with the term, but I had a major depressive disorder. I lay in bed for days on end. I fought with my parents because it was easier than pretending to be okay. When they learned I liked girls ..." I frown. My dad's words never left my memory, fallible as it could be some times. "It got worse. I got worse. My parents got worse. I had the grades to go to an ivy league school in junior year, then by senior year it was a miracle I graduated at all."

I don't look at Lucy, instead focusing on my calloused hands, fingers gripping the library pages tightly. "I had to skip a year before coming here, and I just barely got in." My fingers won't stay still. My knee bounces. "I'm better now, though. Away from my family. I have people I love here, and Renfield makes sure I get out of bed in the mornings, if only to feed him breakfast."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucy's hand. She doesn't touch mine, but rests it gently next to it, our pinky fingers less than an inch from touching.

"I promise I'm doing okay, okay? I don't really mean it when I say my brain's broken. Other people have it worse. I just like to be a shit sometimes."

"Sometimes," she echoes, and there's a smirk in her voice, though it doesn't last long. When I look up, her gaze is distant. "When my husband passed, I thought I was dying. I don't remember his face, but I remember that...painful numbness. Like I was being torn apart at the seams, and yet like I was feeling nothing at all." Her brow furrows, mouth curving into a frown. "I lay in bed for days, not eating. I think I slept. And then..." She sighs. "I died. I woke up here, without him. If I saw my own funeral, I don't remember it."

I want to take her hand. I barely move my pinky out, feeling the icy static of her ghostly skin against mine.

"Do you miss him?"

"I loved him more than anything. I moved from the city to be with him." She pauses. "He was going to buy me a camera the second he had enough money. Every day he'd kiss me goodbye and promise that we'd have a million photographs -- of our home, of our family... Of us." She shook her head. "The only photo left was our marriage photo. I don't even know where it is anymore."

"I'll find it," I say without thinking.

"Kaz --"

"No. Listen. I'll find it for you, okay? You're a huge star in paranormal communities. If it's out there, someone has it, and probably posted it online. I'll find it."

She looks me dead on, the corners of her mouth starting to pull upwards once more. "I believe you."

"Believe in the internet," I say.

Lucy shakes her head. "I believe in you."

I'm still walking on air when I return home. I hum to myself, jingling my keys before putting them into the lock and opening the door

I stop dead in my tracks as soon as I step inside. The apartment has been turned upside down. Textbooks thrown off the table and shredded, dishes shattered on the kitchen tile. All my knickknacks and things litter the floor, chairs knocked over, couch torn to bits. Even the floor lamp has been knocked to the ground, the remains of light bulbs glittering in the carpet.

Renfield sits on the table, surrounded by his destruction. His fur is paler, pupils narrowed to a thin sliver in his yellow eyes.

"Have you had fun tonight?" Magnus asks. Black bile drips from Marius's mouth, and he launches himself at me with a wail.

Tag List

@adaughterofathena

@ambreeskyewriting

@carnelianflames

@feather-dancer

@halfbloodlycan

@nadunacreates

@serenanymph

@vigilantdesert

#writing #writeblr #writers #writers on tumblr #graveyard lesbians #nano #nanowrimo #nano 2023 #nanowrimo 2023 #spilled ink #first draft #mystuff #my writing #original fiction #wlw fiction #wlw romance #supernatural romance

4 notes · View notes

perseverantdt · 4 days ago

Text

Glimpses

Word count: 2,625 Genre: Fantasy

Author's note: This story was written for a prompt, but it brought me so back into writing that not only did I finish it, but I also finished multiple other stories alongside it. I'll post them when I'm done with them, but it'll probably be until the next month for the next one. No promises.

I looked at the rift I just made through theAether Conclave's stronghold. Sneaking through the Conclave's patrols, breaking into their stronghold, stealing magic crystals from their storeroom… what have I gotten myself into? The contract was vague but direct: repay what was owed, or the Void will seek much more than mana. Normally, I'd stay on top of it with my own stash of mana crystals, but I exhausted all of them a week ago. And of course, as if fate was conspiring against me, I had to use it extensively to protect my party from an ambush. Now, the hidden light of the amulet is waning, marking the time for the Void's demand.

Gotta do what must be done.

I went through the rift and immediately closed it, ensuring that I didn't use up any more mana than I needed to. I'm already straining myself with a spell to hide myself from magic sight. Any more, and it'll push my debt even higher. I might be able to find a lot of mana crystals in the storeroom, but that's not a guarantee.

I opened the door and looked around. The corridor was both empty and fully silent. Perfect. I might be hidden from magical detection, but people can still see me. With no one around, I should be able to—

A deep hum entered my head. Though faint, it reverberated all over the walls around me with a song that pierced through my soul. I looked at the amulet, and found it devoid of any light. I'm running out of time.

I ran through the corridors, heading straight for the storerooms. The loud footsteps might bring some attention to my presence, but that doesn't matter anymore. If I don't get to those magic crystals, I'm done either way. I got to the storeroom, and found it locked. I'll have to open another rift to get through it. I could break it, but it will trigger the wards and spells . I put my palm on the door and focused on it.

What do you expect to find there?

I almost reeled back from the sudden pain of Its voice piercing my head. Like a dagger wedging itself into my skull, driving deeper with every word It spoke.

"My end of the contract," I told It.

Time's ticking.

The rift slowly formed as I strained what was left of my borrowed mana. I was barely able to get it large enough for me to go through. I reached in through the rift, grabbed on the edge of the door, and pulled myself in. The Once I was through, I went towards the rack where they stored charged mana crystals. As expected, there's more than enough here to repay my debt. I reached for one, making sure to—

Everything froze. No alarms, no triggered wards, no swirls of magic. Just complete stillness, even from my own body.

Time's up.

"That's not right," I retorted. "Our contract says that it's due when the moon is at its brightest. It shouldn't be for another two hours."

A laugh rang inside my head as the world dissolved into a smoke. I was finally able to move myself.

Did you really think you could sneak into the Aether Conclave and head into what is quite possibly the most guarded area of their stronghold without anyone noticing you in the slightest bit?

The world reformed into the small closet I entered the stronghold from. The rift I entered the stronghold from was present, calling to me. The door leading into the corridor was open, with a thought clawing into my mind the longer I looked at it: Go outside. See what was. My instincts screamed of a trap, but a compulsion tugged at me. See what could be, and be free of your shackles.

As soon as I stepped out of the closet, everything lost color. Just a bit to my right… was me, frozen in place. On the other end of the corridor behind me was a wizard carrying tons of scrolls with her, about to turn into the corridor I was in. She was preoccupied with making sure the scrolls don't fall over, but it was just a matter of time before she looks back up and notices me.

In your desperation, you failed to realize what was going on around you. You felt the energies of your world fade away, but you did not notice it happening.

"You pulled me into the Void so I wouldn't be seen?" I asked. It was never that active in helping me, even during the times when I almost died in battle.

Let me show the fruits of your recklessness.

The world continued. I — or rather, my copy — walked towards the storeroom. The mage behind it looked up and, as expected, found it suspicious. Instead of calling it out, however, she decided to follow it. My copy followed precisely the same path I took when I was pulled into the Void, except with less urgency. When it got to the storeroom door, it quickly made a rift on the door and went through, just like I did earlier. The mage following it went to the door and inspected it for the way it got through. After finding no trace, she powered a spell and slammed on the door, triggering the various wards that were protecting the storeroom. One triggered immediately and placed my copy into stasis, freezing it in place.

Time runs out, I collect, and then what?

Things went by fast, but mages began gathering outside the door of the storerooms, preparing to apprehend my copy. The mage who saw it earlier explained what she saw and, believing it to be a powerful enemy, took caution. They could not enter without dispelling the wards, and doing that would free it from stasis.

"Either the Conclave falls today," It said in a new voice that sent chills down my spine. I recognize it as my own, yet I could tell that something was off. It sounded warped. Distorted. Like the voice of a cracked reflection.

"… or I become an outcast. And truth be told, watching the material world move forward on its own becomes boring after a while."

Taking my voice, becoming an outcast… is that what It meant by "much more than mana"?

"A mere glimpse of it," It replied as if It read my thoughts.

The world disintegrated once again. I'm left alone in the darkness of the Void.

It's been decades since the last person who thought they could use the Void for their gain accepted My amulet. It broke them in just two days.

A swirling smoke of shimmering light appeared all around me, as if it were trying to recreate a scene.

What was the big event a decade ago?

A decade ago… the fall of the Ironspire Citadel? That's the first event that came to my mind. But that was a raid that turned into a massacre. What is It trying to tell me?

You think the attack escalated to such a degree for no reason?

The smoke materialized to a large band of roving marauders, marching for Ironspire. The Sundered Hand. I knew none of the people in this group, but even though it's a mere illusion, I could feel Its presence in the army. I looked around, and found It in the body of Mordain Vorlagh. The leader of the marauders. It looked confident in the upcoming battle, while the rest of them were afraid.

"One of the few times I actually enjoyed my time in the material world," It said with Its voice coming from Vorlagh. "Too bad this fool had too many enemies. I only got two weeks before one of his men killed Me in an act of cowardice."

To take over someone's life, just like that? I would have never agreed to this if that were the true price. But… why tell me all this? Why not just take over my life if I missed the due date?

"Because," It said, "I know what you are capable of. Let's look at your history, shall we?"

The vision fractured back into smoke. Instead of swirling, however, it immediately created a scene I know by heart.

An honored knight who, instead of calling to whichever god watched over your kingdom, called onto Me to protect your king.

Ascleto Castle's courtyard. King Hulio, cornered at the fountain by three traitors. I was rushing with the Void's speed, the first magic I figured out.

"King Hulio may not have been the best ruler we've had, but he kept the peace between us and our enemies. His decision brought prosperity to our city."

Why you did what you did doesn't matter. What matters is that you decided to use My power to protect him. You may have failed in doing so, but you stopped the coup from succeeding.

The world moved forward at a staggering speed. Swords, daggers, halberds, and all kinds of weapons clashed against one another. Soon, the coup was close to its end. The king was dead, and I was left with the assassins who just killed the king. Prince Marino was there, watching everything unfold. I still remember the hatred in his eyes, staging a coup just to take the crown and wage war on our enemies. He would consign the empire to endless war just to enforce a perceived superiority.

I was hoping for you to fail your end of the contract then and there. Someone who has little experience in magic, faced with insurmountable odds. By all accounts, you should have overused My power. Taken so much magic that you wouldn't be capable of paying all of it back. And yet…

The scene played out with me fending off the last members of the coup. The assassins were a lot of trouble. If I was any slower in understanding the Void's magic, I would have used a whole lot more magic to defend myself. Prince Marino was forced to fight me as I defeated the rest of the assassins. In the end, I prevailed, and the coup was broken. And yet, despite what I did, I had to flee from the kingdom for a while. The rest of the guard knew that I had nothing to do with it, but the council demanded my capture until the true nature of the coup came to light.

Once all of it was done, you repaid your debt with all of your own mana. You sacrificed your ability to cast magic on your own after protecting someone.

The vision shifted once more, bringing us to the ambush. My party was caught completely off-guard by the attack. We knew the route was dangerous, but we didn't expect an entire group of bandits to just be waiting for us. We managed to fend them off without them taking any of the artifacts we were transporting, but everyone got gravely injured. All except me.

When your friends were threatened, you stopped holding back. You showed what you can truly do with just part of My power.

There was a hint of respect in the tone of Its voice. I had no choice but to let loose. If I didn't, Galafen would have died. Thankfully, I was at least able to control it enough to not deal any collateral damage, both to my friends or our items. The Void's magic couldn't heal their wounds, but I was able to use it to bring them to a nearby inn, where we stayed until I could find someone that could heal them.

Such a shame that things ended up where they are now. I would have enjoyed seeing what else you can do with My power.

Everything dissolved into nothingness, bringing me back to the darkness of the Void.

"Then maybe you can give me some leniency," I asked. "I was close to getting the magic I need, anyway."

I could. But I also have something else for you.

A wall of white flames surrounded us. Its light was so intense that I can't make out any details about the flames nor of what's beyond it. Despite that, it was not blinding, even if I stared directly at it.

I can send you back to before you entered the stronghold, give you back the two hours you still have to repay your debt.

An armor appeared in front of me. It looked extremely similar to the armor I normally wear while my party and I are on a quest, except in a completely different color. It was also adorned in strange patterns, showing a design that appeared to form a message I could not decipher.

Or, I could free you from our current contract. Replace it with one that gives you unfettered access to the Void's power. No more debts, no more repayments. You will hold the Void's power as if it were your own.

Free me from the contract? Give me the Void's power? That's… tempting. With what my party does, stronger magic is something that could make things easier. Knowing It, however, that can't be all of it. Not with the kind of deal It made me agree to for Its amulet.

"What's the catch?" I asked It.

Smart. You are the first to not immediately give in to the allure of the Void's power. Just as I expected of you.

It reappeared in front of me as Archmage Naro Kalisha. Widely regarded as one of the strongest mages to ever live, he pushed the boundaries of spellcasting with spells that either spanned entire cities, created objects out of nothing, or distorted reality. If It can take his form, then that explains his sudden disappearance. Who else had It possessed over the course of history?

It walked towards the armor and leaned on its left shoulder pad. "Embrace the Void and relinquish your soul. That is the entirety of the price. Unlike everyone else who tried to take advantage of My power, you will retain yourself. Your body, your personality, your autonomy, all of it, unaltered. However, you will be one with the Void from then on, up to the end of your life, and beyond that."

It started walking towards me in the same demeanor that It had when I made the first deal with It. Arms crossed behind Its back, looking intensely into my eyes.

"Go beyond the flames, and I will send you back to where you were. At the side of the stronghold, with two hours to fulfill your end of the bargain. You will remember what happened here, but this offer was never given to you."

As It stopped just in front of me, the patterns in the armor began glowing with the same light as Its amulet. A cape, made from what I can feel is magic derived from the Void, slowly formed on it, glowing in a light that felt both terrifying yet calming.

"Should you take the armor, you will face the challenges I made for you. Overcome them, and I will free you from our contract and sign you into the new one. Fail, and I will simply take everything from you as if you failed your end of our initial contract."

It disappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving me alone with the wall of flames and the armor. The warmth of familiarity emanated from the wall of flames, calling me to cross and return to the known world. The armor reached out to me with both the strength of the borrowed magic I've been relying on and the protection of the armor that I've always worn since my induction as a knight.

Make your choice.

#the-void's-determination #writing #fantasy

0 notes

kinetic-elaboration · 1 year ago

Text

April 10: The Expanse 1x09

I came in to today’s episode of The Expanse feeling like, at the penultimate installment of the season, I better be getting some exposition. I better be seeing things all coming together and then finishing the episode with the finale clearly set up, so that the next episode can be a combination of climactic adventure and S1-loose-end tying.

I think I… partially got that. On the one hand, the ep started with the recap that all of the episodes have sorely needed. It wasn’t enough of a recap but it helped me remember a few things (one thing) I would not otherwise have remembered. And there was an extensive flashback, which is right where I would have put it.

I still feel… like I don’t know enough and I’m not clear enough on what’s happening for this point in the game. For the most part this season I’ve just been rollicking along, enjoying the word building and the general mood and figuring that eventually all of the plot would be explained to me. But I’m not sure that it has… The thing is that it’s possible that it’s really not that complex and I do understand everything. I just don’t feel confident in what I do understand, I guess is my point.

I think most of what I don’t get would be solved with a previously on recap of real substance and like a twinge of exposition. Like for example, I have zero recollection who Julie’s family is other than Rich People. So I understand that there’s a bioweapon, it belongs in some sense to her father, she was on a spy mission to get it, and that mission went wrong. I get that it killed her and everyone else who touched it, a tad about how it works, and that despite her attempt to steal or destroy it, her father and his people are able to put their evil master plan into play. I do not mind not know exactly what the evil master plan is yet—there’s still one more episode. I see experiments clearly being done on the people of Eros, that is all pretty well explained. But I don’t get why… and I’m wondering if I’m supposed to get why at this point or not. It sort of feels like we’ve been told there are three major players and this whole season has been about them all thinking the others are out to get them but actually it’s a Secret Fourth Person and the motivations of that fourth person are totally unknown. Are they tipping the scales in favor of one of the other sides? Seems like it’s not the Belt lol. Are they just straight profiteers? War would make us money seems a pretty common motivation of people to go to or start a war. I don’t know. I could still find out. I just wish I felt a bit more confident at this point.

I really liked that we got a little bit of sneaky Chrisjen. Did I totally predict that the pencils were important in some way, not just keepsakes? Of course. I’m not sure that was supposed to be a twist though. Her little ‘hmm’ when she tried the first two and they had nothing was very funny. But I also don’t really get what was on the third.

I also liked Fred Johnson’s speech a lot. I’d like more on his background, how he went from Earth Enforcer to OPA, but I’m assuming there will be more of him. Definitely some very metal lines in it like ‘I was the oppressor. I know how they think.’

And I enjoyed the ending. It definitely left me wanting to know more. Presumably the episode won’t start with them both dying, but probably anything else could happen.

I do not feel like these are very deep or interesting thoughts but I am so exhausted right now. I gotta get to bed.

#the year 2024 #2024: fandom thoughts #2024: the expanse

1 note · View note

shadcwcursed · 10 months ago

Text

"I want to know about that even less," Annabel quipped back, "save those stories for Uncle Ol." His smile brought more of one out of her, the relief she felt at finally being back with him had never really run out. Not being able to see her son every day, it was an extra punishment added to her sentence. They'd stolen her life out of nothing but blind hatred, but she had one now. The rest of her life with her son, and she didn't intend to waste a second of it. "Got a few connections of my own," she teased, "that aren't Party City." Finding Oliver in the crowd before she muttered, "it builds character...and more importantly, it's funny." Busted, Annabel offered a slight smirk before feigning her innocence, "you'd think a place like this wouldn't run low. I bet that's driving the hosts crazy. I'm not sure I'd even know what fancy bourbon looked like." With a wink, she gave him a look that promised she'd share.

She knew the blanket statement was unfair, but she did see them all as culpable to some degree. "I remember," she assured, having taken her issue with his girlfriend's involvement but it had become easier in the last year to see puppet from puppeteer. Yet, the burden his devotion left on his shoulders had still not settled well. "This healing has to be her own," she explained, though it would not be the answer he wanted, "there will always be things you cannot fix for other people. I know you wish you could. You've always been a fixer. Love is wonderful, and it helps, it supports, it's endlessly patient. It doesn't make wounds go away. She didn't make everything go away for you either, though it might feel like it when you're focused on taking care of her. Those are battles you support each other through, but have to fight yourselves." She knew he'd defend his friend and by extension, his friend's uncle, and the loyalty to his self-made pack brought a renewed smile. "I don't know that I trust what Klaus is gonna do, but I do believe Briggs wouldn't screw you over." Bringing her hand to her son's face, she met his gaze, "it's my turn to take care of you now, kiddo. Time for you to get a deep breath. You might be an adult now, but I'm still your mother. Let the weight of the world go. Maybe Klaus, as looney as he is, has an idea. The kids aren't going to be at the forefront of the battle this time."

The thought of the Mikaelsons at a Crescent party was an image. "They'd be knocked on their asses, something I'd actually like to see," she joked. Hey, they judged her as trailer trash, so she could take a little joy in those elitists making fools of themselves in the bayou. "Like old times, I do like how that sounds." Her smile was quick to falter at his self-deprecating comment, a signal she'd not be listening to that nonsense. "Siblings say shit they don't mean," she reminded him, "especially when they fight. It doesn't make any of it true." There was a softer smile as he mentioned her being smart, "I think we gotta thank the prison library and daytime television for that." It was a sad thing to have lost all those years, but it didn't have to be a sad thing. Things only had the power you gave them. Right now, she had her child back within reaching distance, sharing in his problems, reminding him how much he was loved. That was all she needed. From the second she had that positive test in her hand, she knew she'd found her greatest peace in this life. "I love you, sweet boy." Finally fixing his hair if he wasn't going to do it, she shook her head. "It does matter. You're gonna have to apologize and so is she. You did it for them, and I know that because you're doing the same thing for Marni. You've put all the padding down so she never has to hit the ground too hard. I'm sure it made you feel better, gave you a sense of stability you could control--which should have been your dad's job. I think both things can be true, and neither have to be bad. You were dealt a pretty shitty hand by this life between your dad and me, and you did your best with what you knew. You're a kid, even now, at 25, technically an adult, you're still a kid." She didn't always feel like having her for a mother made her kid lucky, but her heart filled to the brim to hear him say it. "I'm the lucky one, I got you. I'm so proud of you, I will always be proud of you. We're gonna have fun tonight, alright? We're partying on the Mikaelson dime, I think that means go nuts."

“Dates?” he teased as his brow quirked, “ain’t so sure i’d call whatever they were dates, ma.” As always Annabel had managed to coax a smile from him, no matter how dire the situation nor emotion, she was one of the few who could heal a wounded heart with a single glance. “You look real nice, by the way” he hummed; guiding the conversation as his smile became wider, "uncle Ol looks -- uncomfortable." As Bel's hand came towards his head, he pretended to dodge before groaning as she ruffled his hair, but he didn’t bother to fix it. “Only the best at Casa de Mikaelson. There's plenty more where that came from. But I heard a rumor they were runnin' low on bourbon” his smile remained as he asked playfully, "you wouldn't happen to know where those bottles got to, would you?"

His chest tightened at the mention of the prison world and his brow creased as he shook his head “– not all of em’ are psychos, remember?” His prompting was gentle and he understood that there was a line. “Marni’s havin’ a real tough time tonight. I don’t know how to help. I just – wanna make this go away, you know? She’s always been so good at doin’ that for me, so why can’t I fix this? Why don’t I know how?” Listening to his mothers advice, he nodded and he knew that she was speaking sense, but he couldn’t help but add “Briggs’ uncle wouldn’t do anythin’ to screw him over and Briggs sure as shit wouldn’t do anythin’ to screw me over. We’re alright, ma. I swear. I ain’t lettin’ anything happen to you. Not again. I’m gonna keep you safe. You and Marni.”

Laughter eased from his lips, his nose wrinkling as he joked "crescent edge might just be enough to kill a Mikaelson” but he was sure to keep his voice low, “or at least knock one out cold. If the edge don’t, the potato vodka will.” There was another glimmer of a smile and Abel nudged his mom’s arm with his elbow, “we’ll have our own crescent party, just for you; like old times.” Bel had missed out on so much of her life, he wouldn't see her missing out on another second. OEA be damned. Releasing a steady breath now, he shrugged the tension from his shoulders “if bein’ human makes me an asshole then yeah guess I am” he murmured, lowering his head before muttering a soft apology. “I'm sorry“ he wasn’t one for self loathing and he wasn’t about to start now. Lifting his gaze he glanced towards his mom with an encouraged smile, “you’re crazy smart, you know that?” and his eyes softened, “I love you, mom. I mean it though, you are crazy smart.” He could sense the shift before her expression had given her away and he felt guilty for having brought it up. She was always so gentle with him, her love truly was everything. And as a child, even though she wasn’t with him, she had loved him so intensely, so well that in so many ways, she was always there. “It don’t matter– she was angry an’ we both said some hurtful shit. I spent a lot of time making excuses for dad. Guess over time I just did more harm than good. I always thought I was doing it for them, but maybe she's right, maybe it was just to make me feel better.” He inhaled a shaky breath, before forcing his composure as his gaze held onto his mothers, the relief clear from his expression, “i’m real lucky. Bein’ your kid, i’m the luckiest there is. I’ve always known that.”

#( the past is gone; it went by like dusk to dawn | annabel campbell. )#( annabel campbell. | threads. )#( annabel & abel. )#exitium.event004

3 notes · View notes

mune-writes · 3 years ago

Text

xi. scarlet.

the kaleidoscope project masterlist

tw: mentions of blood, wounds.

Laying down in the middle of an open field surrounded by electric heat radiators connected by various extension chords to the RV while also being wired to several rechargeable batteries was probably the strangest form of preparation to kill an all-powerful being from the Upside Down.

A harsh contrast to the others, who were hammering nails away at the tops of garbage cans to create deadly shields, crafting makeshift spears with knives, and flammable projectiles. Nancy and Max were hacking and sawing through the end of a shotgun, for what purpose I didn't know.

Though it seemed as if I were leisurely soaking up the heat, my powers heavily relied on my absorption of heat and electric energy—that of which was provided by the radiators and batteries. Heatstroke was of no worry to me, in fact, I was practically immune to it.

With cables that were meant to jumpstart a car clamped down on my palms, I closed my eyes, drinking in all the energy I was surrounded by like a cold lemonade on a hot summer's day—only it was really the other way around.

I open an eye momentarily, distracted by Eddie and Dustin's playful rough housing, glancing at the others now and again to see what they were doing. As I closed my eyes again, I let my thoughts flow, not in a way to let them aimlessly wander, but to go over the plan one more time, and the countless 'what if' scenarios that came to my mind.

Still, one thing remained unchanging despite all of the unpredictability of our circumstances: I was going to protect them all with my life.

"Holy shit, I knew it was gonna be hot but I didn't think it'd be this hot."

I chuckle, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to. "I told you, I need this."

"Look at the rest of us, all hard at work while High Priestess (Y/N) harvests the powers of the sun."

I unclamp the cables from my hands, propping myself up with my elbows, taking in Eddie's warm brown eyes.

"You know, I still don't know why you guys trust me even after.."

Eddie takes a seat near me, far enough so he doesn't get caught up in the sweltering heat the radiators cast. "Because we know you, (Y/N), you aren’t going to let Vecna in your head again—besides, we’ve got ABBA on our side."

I chew on my bottom lip anxiously, my eyebrows furrowed. "Are we really going to take the chance that Vecna somehow implanted something inside me to turn on you guys?"

Eddie shrugs. "You know me, not much of a gambler. But I'll take those odds."

"What if he tries using me against you again? What if I'm the reason everything goes wrong?" I mutter, fiddling with my fingers.

He looks up to the sky, deep in thought as he scratched his cheek. "You know, Max said something about Vecna only bringing out the darkest parts of you so..maybe if you thought of happier stuff that'd make it harder for him to control you—which, I uh, doubt will happen anyway," He looks to me, cocking his head at me curiously. "Have any memories in mind?"

I stand up, switching off the radiators as I sit by him. "Yeah, I think I have a few, no matter how utterly depressing my life was before." I mumble out the last part under my breath, which despite its lowness Eddie somehow manages to hear it.

"Let's practice then," he turns around so we're sitting face to face. "Think of a memory right now, okay? Three, two, one, go!"

I shut my eyes, a small smile on my face as I recalled a particular memory that made me smile.

"Aw, come on, (nickname), you've gotta say it out loud."

I crack open my left eye at him. "What do you mean?"

"Pretty sure I read somewhere that you remember things better I'd you say them aloud."

I widen my eyes, a hand over my chest as I feign shock. "You read?"

He gives me a playful shove, causing me to giggle before I shove him back.

"Okay, seriously, go, do it!"

"Okay, okay!" I shut my eyes again.

"So what're you thinking of?" I hear a lilt in his voice as if he were amused.

"I'm thinking of.." I pause as my mind fills with images of the memory, like I was watching it on a television screen. "That time you dared me to jump into Lover's Lake that one summer, and when I asked for your help to get back up, I pulled you in." My words are tinted with a giggle as I crack my eyes open once more, seeing Eddie grinning from ear to ear.

"That's a good one." He nods.

As we continue to play the game of me closing my eyes and telling him all my happiest memories, we eventually trickle into lighthearted conversation, as if we weren't just about to face yet another life or death situation, leaving our lives entirely up to fate, laughing and joking around like we were normal teenagers talking about stupid little things as twilight started to stretch across the atmosphere.

I feel the muscles of my stomach finally relax after having cackled so hard about one of Eddie's anecdotes, I found my fingers twisting and pulling on the grass as I fidgeted, a thought sticking itself to my mind, urging me to speak it aloud—which I do.

"You know," I start, reaching out to trace the rings on his fingers. "I think I've realized something."

"Lay it on me, sugar." Eddie responds with a smile.

"When—when I was in that trance, or whenever I got a headache, I realized that it was you," he furrows his eyebrows as he stares at me, puzzled. "Not like that, more like..like you were the one thing that anchored me back to reality. Your voice is what brought me back each time."

I see Eddie's tongue prod out of his teeth as he processes this, opening his mouth to say something, but before he can utter a word, Nancy calls us all back to the RV in order to finalize our preparations and plans.

I feel my stomach twist as Eddie and I shoot each other a look.

Here goes nothing.

....

Dark settles over the atmosphere as night rolls in, furthering the intensity of the tension we all feel as we took our places in the vehicle, armed as we donned on our battle gear.

"Okay. I wanna run through it one more time." Nancy's stare is fierce and unwavering as she looks at all of us. "Phase one."

"We meet Erica at the playground. She'll signal Max and Lucas when we're ready." Robin answers.

"Phase two." Nancy looks at Steve, whose stare is uneasy yet determined.

"Max baits Vecna. He'll go after her which'll put him in his trance."

"Phase three?" She turns to Dustin and Eddie.

"Me and Eddie draw away the bats."

Nancy inhales. "Four."

"We head into Vecna's newly bat-free lair, and," Robin shakes a bottle full of lighter fluid. "Flambé."

Nancy looks to me, and I already feel my palms start to sweat nervously under her gaze.

"(Y/N), as per what you told me about Eddie being able to anchor you, you'll stay with them. We'll send out a signal if we're in trouble and need your help."

I can only nod as I feel my heart start to pulsate.

"Nobody moves on to the next phase until we've all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what. Got it?" Nancy's voice is stern and steady as she looks to us for an answer.

"Got it." We all day in chorus.

While the others were decked out in hunting garments, I settled on combat boots and my red jacket—for luck, I told myself. It had been the jacket my mother had gotten me for my first ever birthday, I had worn it one day I aced a test I wasn't prepared for, and I wore it that day I met Eddie. I wasn't much of the superstitious type, but I figured we needed all the luck we could get.

In the dead of night, we made our way towards Eddie's trailer. Eddie’s hands and mine brush one another as we walk, and I feel static between us again. I beg the gods and all my lucky stars and each and every celestial body that I get to feel his touch more even after this.

Once we enter the trailer, Steve is quick to heave himself up and back into the Upside Down, landing perfectly on his feet as he flipped. He shrugs up at us, to which Robin responds with a quirked eyebrow.

"What does he want us to do, applaud?" Even as we enter a dangerous situation, I appreciate Robin and all her sarcasm. I nudge Nancy softly as I see the smirk on her face, which makes her roll her eyes at me.

After we all climb up one after the other and crash on Eddie's mattress on the other side, alone with the rest of their weapons, I take a moment to look at each of them.

"Hey," I say. "We need to kill that son of a bitch. For Max, for everything at stake. Whatever it takes."

They all glance at each other briefly, Eddie placing a hand to my shoulder.

"Whatever it takes." He nods, and the rest follow.

Before Robin leaves I give her one last hug.

"Be careful out there, Buckley."

She gives me a lopsided grin, patting me on the back.

"Be back before you know it, Willows."

Steve turns to us, utter seriousness taking over his features as he reminds us that if things took a turn for the worse, I would get Eddie and Dustin to abort.

"I'm counting on you, Willows." He gives me a small nod, to which I reply with a curt one, before he settles his gaze on Eddie and Dustin.

"Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something, you guys are just—"

"Decoys," the two day in chorus as Dustin speaks up. "Don't worry. You can be the hero, Steve."

Eddie nods. "Absolutely, I mean, look at us, Eddie and Dustin share a look. "We are not heroes."

His eyes find mine, as if to say I were the only exception. As Steve turns to leave, Eddie calls his attention.

"Make him pay."

The tension in the air is palpable, I could practically feel all our heartbeats pulsate as silence fills the air, before the two men give each other a silent nod.

Dustin, Eddie, and I are quick to start of reinforcing his trailer, gathering up various sturdy materials and working with a power drill to turn his home in the Upside Down into an impenetrable fortress. I help heft up Eddie's sound system up on the roof, pushing and pulling until we have everything set up.

We stand back, chests heaving from our initial preparations. The trailer looks straight out of an apocalypse movie, fortified to keep out zombie hoards from attacking—or in this case, bats from hell.

In spite of the perilous situation that had begun to slowly unfold, Eddie and Dustin still smile, proud of their hard work. "Not bad."

"Not bad all." Dustin echoes, while I huff in disbelief over their laid back nature, still on edge as my heart palpitated each time lightning flashed through the sky.

Eddie nudges the both of us.

"Now for the fun part."

....

"What do you say Henderson, Willows?" Eddie mutters as he picks up his guitar, still awestruck by how it was, quote on quote, 'destined for an alternate dimension'. "Are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?"

"That a rhetorical question?" Dustin grins.

I fold my arms over my chest, running my tongue over my canines as I shrug. "Give 'em hell, Munson."

Eddie slips on the strap attached to his guitar.

"Let's do it."

Eddie grabs my hand as he helps hoist me up to the roof, I do the same to help Dustin until the three of us stand there, eyes and ears peeled out for some sort of sign. I chew on my lip, anxiety taking over me as I feel my palms start to sweat, hurriedly wiping them on my jeans. Noticing my unrest, Eddie laced his fingers with mine, effectively grounding me back to reality, bursting me out of my thoughts.

"(Y/N)," he says, gaze flickering towards Dustin, I follow his gaze, turning my head to see Dustin's grin fade into a neutral expression as he pretends to pick at his nails. I furrow my brows in confusion before I feel Eddie's hand scup my face, forcing me to look back at him. "I just.. I want you to know that—that I, um.. you-you mean a lot to me."

I gaze at him, doe-eyed and somewhat puzzled at his sudden sentimental words before I nod, squeezing his hand. "You mean a lot to me too."

"More than everything, (Y/N). You mean more to me than everything."

"You mean so much to me, too. More than anything, Eds." I lean my face into his touch. We both pull away abruptly as turn to when we heard radio static, then Robin's voice.

"She's in, move onto phase three."

I suck in a breath, my nerves on end as I imagined Max now trapped in Vecna’s sick mindscape.

"Copy that. Initiating phase three." Dustin answers, turning to Eddie with a nod as he connects the amp. "Let's hope they hear this."

Eddie's usual carefree demeanor is long gone as his facial features turn into a grave expression, eyes smoldering like a forest fire as he practically rips off his guitar pick necklace.

"Chrissy," he mutters, steadying his guitar. "This is for you."

With a whine from the amp and a yell from Eddie, the concert begins. His body moves back and forth, banging his head to the rhythm of the song as he strums the guitar, fingers meticulously crossing to and fro on the respective frets.

I can't help but follow him, stomping my foot along to the music that poured loudly through the speakers, rocking my head back and forth while there were still no sign of the bats. I did this more so to ease my nerves than anything, shake everything out of my system before my own anxieties would cause a fluke in the plan. I was not going to allow myself to succumb to my thoughts.

"End of passion play!" I shout out, too entranced in the music to care, remembering all those moments Eddie had me watch him rehearse this song for weeks on end. "Crumbling away!"

"Come crawling faster," The lyrics to the song falls out of my mouth in mumble now as time passes, steadying myself as I felt it again, something crawling around inside me, making my stomach lurch, I mustered every ounce of willpower inside me to ignore it. No, don't come crawling faster you stupid piece of shit, stay the hell away from me.

"Obey your master." I mutter to myself, reminding that I had complete control over myself. Images flash in my mind, causing me to wince in pain as another headache racked my brain. I grit my teeth. No, I think, I'm not giving into you, Vecna. Not when I have people I need to protect.

"Guys!" I hear Dustin shout, my eyes glowing red as my fingers twitched, pulsating with energy. "We gotta lock down in T-minus 30 seconds!"

"T-minus 20!" Dustin yells again as he looks with his binoculars, launching Eddie into the sickest, most insane guitar solo I've ever seen him play, as if he himself were the Master of Puppets.

"T-minus 10!" Dustin's voice now feels muffled against the high-pitched ringing in my ears. I shook my head, screaming at myself to get a grip, all the while Eddie played faster and faster as Dustin continued to count down, ending his solo just in time as the bats drew close.

I clenched my jaw, palms sparking red as I threw blasts at them, effectively covering Dustin and Eddie as they scrambled inside. I let my fingers dance and twitch as I hurled once last sphere at one that flew too close, before Eddie grabbed me by my jacket and shut the makeshift gate.

I rest my hands on my knees as I huffed, evening out my breathing while Dustin and Eddie jumped around, adrenaline rushing through them as they screamed in exhilaration. I chuckled softly at their antics, before I feel the hairs in my neck stand on end.

"Red." A voice growled in my ear, I shut my eyes, hands covering my ears.

"Shut the fuck up." I mutter through gritted teeth. Eddie and Dustin take quick notice, rushing towards me.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N), what's wrong?"

"Nothing—just, another headache." I mumble out as I clutched my forehead.

"Shit." Dustin says, shooting Eddie a concerned look. "But, Max, Vecna's in her head right now, how—?"

His question is interrupted abruptly as we hear the bats start to attack the outside of the trailer. I scramble to my feet, hands raised, with my palms outward as I continued to collect energy from within myself, standing back to back with Eddie and Dustin who held their weapons and shields.

For a moment, the screeching stops. But that only makes us all the more tense as we stand on edge, watching and waiting for their next move. Dustin yells out to the bats, but I only pay half attention, all my concentration centered around keeping that damn crawling feeling from coming back to me, even as whispers and distant cries echo inside my mind.

We look up as we hear a clattering on the roof.

Spears in hand, I follow Eddie and Dustin as we slowly make our way towards the sound, bats trilling and ceiling rattling furiously until we spot one trying to get in through the vent.

"They can't get in through there, can they?" Dustin mutters.

He spoke too soon, as a bat screeches, clawing it's way inside. Dustin and Eddie yell out a war cry, raising their spears to attack and stab at the incoming bats.

Sweat trickles down my forehead as I step closer. "Move!" I raise my fingers, carefully aimed at the bats, a small sphere spinning around my pointer finger before I positioned my finger straight at the bats, hand gestured in a way that I was mimicking a gun, blasting them away with a fine beam to assure that I didn't create a gaping hole in the roof.

Just as I'm about to raise another hand to blast at more of the bats, I stumble backwards, a migraine worse than the last crashing over my brain.

"(Y/N)! We need you!" Dustin yells out, too preoccupied and panicked to realize what was happening to me while more bats tried to enter. Eddie was quick to spot me, grabbing a chair and his shield to plug up the vent, stabbing through the bats in the process.

We all stand there for a moment, our breathing growing heavier by the minute. I meekly turn my head up to Eddie.

"Are-are there any other vents?"

His eyes grow wide. "Shit."

I fumbled in my step as we all ran towards his room, only to be met with a flurry of bats crashing through the floor. Eddie quickly ushers us away, slamming the door closed, only to see the claw marks of the bats as they viciously tore through the wood.

"That's not gonna hold!" Dustin screams as his frenzied eyes look at the door.

"Go! Now! Both of you!" I order, palms inflamed in red, even as another migraine shook my skull, forehead no drenched it sweat.

Dustin is quick to obey, climbing up the rope as Eddie and I watch the door.

"It's time to stop resisting." I hear Eddie say, his weapons clattering in the floor.

"What?" I spun around to look at him, only for fear to churn in my stomach as I saw his murky eyes.

"Stop resisting, Red."

....

I gasp for air as a tendril shoots out from a wall, trapping me by my throat and limbs. I struggle, of course I do, my heart hammering against my chest as I realize I’ve been forcibly pulled out of my own consciousness and back into that hellhole of a dimension yet again.

Vecna doesn’t waste his time, he is standing right in front of me, hand raised.

“I told you, Red. Out of the goodness in my heart I gave you an offer, and you refused,” he steps closer, and I feel his fingers scrape my scalp. “You have seen how they fear you, Red. You will always be made to destroy, that is your fate.”

I try to turn my head away from him, feeling my hands spark with power, only for the tendril around my neck to twist even tighter, completely blocking off my air supply.

“You will always break everything, and you will always be broken.”

“No.” I splutter out, barely even able to choke out the words. “You’re wrong.”

Vecna’s words echo throughout my mind: turn that anger into wrath and that wrath into power.

But I could always draw power from something else.

I shut my eyes, my memories flowing freely, focusing intently on the good ones. Eddie and I wrestling for the remote on his couch, my mother and I singing our hearts out to ABBA songs, goofing off with Robin as I annoyed her when she worked at the mall. All the best, happiest memories came flooding in all at once.

I didn’t know what to expect, but when I opened my eyes all I saw was Vecna, head cocked to the side.

“You will never be anything else. All you will ever bring is pain. You are a weapon, meant only to destroy.”

I feel my nostrils flare, my eyes bearing directly into his murky ones, all the muscles in my body contracting and tensing as I felt a surge of unadulterated power course through my veins. "I don't need you to tell me who I am."

I rip my hand from the wall, vines bursting into dust, freeing my wrists then my limbs, until I stand proudly on my own, face and mind etched with open defiance.

"You have no power over me. Not anymore." My eyes glowed, dangerously scarlet as energy began to gather in my palms. For a split second I see shock flash on his desiccated face, before it vanished as quickly as it came.

"They will never stop fearing you, loathing you for your abilities." Vecna snarls, bringing his hand forward to let more debris fall onto me. I don't even bat an eye as I raise my hand, turning it into nothing but harmless feathers with my touch.

"Then let them fear me—I can't control their fear, only my own."

Vecna stumbles backward with each blast I hurl towards him, each one faster and stronger until he falls to his knees. That's when I slam my palm onto his head, gripping his forehead tight. Interdimensional being or not, he was still made of something—born from matter and molecules as I used all the willpower inside me to decimate him. A beam of red light shoots out from my palm, turning him into nothing but dust.

"Get the hell out of my mind!"

I am suddenly pulled back into reality as I land on my knees, coughing violently as I spluttered out something that had just been dislodged from my throat. My stomach turns with disgust as I see a spider-like creature covered in my own spit feebly attempt to escape before I crush it under my foot.

Rot in hell.

"(Y/N)!" I turn abruptly at the sound of Dustin's voice as he comes crashing into me, hand on my back to soothe my hacking.

"Where—" I manage to say, wiping drool from the corner of my mouth. "Where's Eddie?"

The answer to my question comes in the form of Eddie's yells coming from the distance. My eyes widen in realization before I bolt right up back on my feet, sprinting even as my lungs barely recovered from the aggressive hacking I had gone through earlier, burning and begging for air as I continued to ignore it. The only thing that raced through my mine was that I needed for Eddie to be safe.

My body moves before I can even think, swiftly bursting through the door and climbing over a chain linked fence, even as I land awkwardly and stumble, I disregard the ache in my foot as I continue to run desperately to where Eddie was; heart hammering against my chest as I willed my legs to go faster when I saw a bat wrap it's tail around his neck, followed by two other bats attacking.

I dive, sliding on my knees against the pavement as to avoid any of the swooping bats, blasting them with all my might, quick as lightning before I find my hands wrapped around the tail that held Eddie's neck in a vice-like grip. In a panic, I dig deep into its molecular structure, manipulating and commanding the atoms however I intended; despite being completely unfamiliar with its makeup, matter was still matter, everything was made from atoms and carbon. The bat crumbled to dust in my hands.

Before I can even act on the bats that attacked his legs, I'm whisked into the air by a flurry of even more bats, biting and gnawing at my arms. I let out a scream, my eyes flashing red as I feel energy completely envelope me, the bats’ hold on me weakens, dropping me onto the ground almost brutally. Despite the pain of the gashes they had torn into my flesh and the ache in my body from crashing into the ground, I keep going, I keep pushing and flicking my wrists while my fingers twitched at the sudden bursts of energy; hurling, flinging, and casting charges at the creatures. I am angry and wrathful and so fucking tired of being frozen with fear, fear of my abilities and my potential to hurt. Fear no more, (Y/N). You are a weapon and you will be used for good, no more fearing yourself. Not when you have people to protect.

Anything to protect them—anything to protect Eddie.

Eddie.

In the heat of the battle, only then had I realized my back was turned from him.

I look towards Eddie, and my heart stops. I hear my heartbeat in my ears, quelling any of the demonic screeches of the bats, the tumultuous booming of thunder as red lightning flashed across the sky, Dustin's own frantic yells as I catch sight of Eddie, laying on his back as the creatures dig their teeth into him.

All I see is red; violent, ferocious red, as white-hot fury consumes me. A shockwave echoes thunderously across the atmosphere, electrocuting and stunning bats midair, demobats exploding into ash as I let out an ear piercing wail. Even the bats that surrounded him faded away into nothing but smoke as I fell to my knees, anguish and rage racking through my body.

No, I tell myself. Not like this.

I rush to his side, barely collecting myself as I gently lay his head on my lap, my hands running over his torso as I checked the severity of his wounds—only to see my hands covered in blood.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Eddie, it's going to be okay, everything's going to be okay." I chant like a prayer, even when I knew that there was no god here. Not in a place like this.

Even as blood dribbles out of his mouth, he smiles at me, with those sweet brown eyes I had learned to love so dearly.

"Come on, Eds, get up, you need to get up." My words sound like pleas as they make their way out my mouth, he stumbles back even as he attempts to prop himself up, my urging continues as I try to heave him up into my arms. I cursed the lab for not instilling in me super strength, but none of that mattered now, all my thoughts and whispers in my head were silenced as he shakes his head.

"I can't," he chuckles. "I'm sorry, (Y/N), I can't."

Tears stream down my face, an endless waterfall as I find myself hiccuping in between sobs.

"No, no, please don't say that Eddie."

"Hey, it's okay, I'll be okay. It's my year right? I can feel it, it's finally my year, (Y/N)."

"No! You can't—no, please, Eddie, don't leave me, please." I bury my face into his palm, peppering his hand with kisses as it starts to dawn on me that this may be the last time I'll ever feel his touch.

"'M never gonna leave you gorgeous," He breathes out, still smiling at me even as a tear slides down his face. "Always gonna be here, right in your heart or some cheesy shit. But I'll always be with you babe, forever and ever," he coughs, and I hold him even tighter.

"Never even got the chance to tell you how much I love you. More than anything—more than everything."

"I love you. More Than anything and everything." I don't even know how I manage to say that as my body is racked aggressively with even more sobs.

"Take care of the kiddos for me, alright? All the lost sheepies out there."

"No, no, Edward Munson don't you fucking say that to me, don't you ever—"

"Just say it, doofus." He grins, poking my nose feebly.

I nod my head, holding his hand in mine. "I'll take care of them."

"Save the world, supergirl. I know you'll be great." He chuckles, coughing up even more blood even as I lay my hand on his chest, attempting to steady him.

“I didn’t run away this time, right? ‘M always like that, except when it comes to you. Never gonna runaway when it comes to you.” My lip trembles at his words, the memory of him saving me in the past clear as day in my mind. I cursed at myself, screamed at myself for not connecting with him further back, to spend more time with his lovable, kind self that always looked out for other outcasts, kind and selfless towards everyone even when the world had turned their backs on him.

His breathing is labored now, chest rising and falling softer and softer until he closes his eyes.

I was not losing him. Not like this. I am not going to go another day without seeing his eyes crinkle with laughter, his arms around my waist as we slow dance to some old-timey song that he pretended to hate. We're going to grow old together, Edward Munson, we're going to get high and debate about the meaning of life and whether or not ABBA was better than Metallica and create chaos as we chase each other around in wheelchairs at a home for the elderly. I am going to tell you how much I love you every day of your life.

I am not losing you—I just can't.

I still feel his heartbeat, as faint as it was, it was still beating, fighting valiantly to stay alive. I press my hand over his wounds, clamping my eyes shut as I focused, digging deep into my mind and soul for some ounce of strength to bring him back. I couldn't bring back the dead. But I could manipulate atoms however I wished, and everything was made from them.

Another memory pops into my head, another stupid memory. But this one was important. It had to be. I remember Green, how he could heal with a touch of his finger, how I had asked him how he did that; he told me to listen, listen carefully because if you paid attention enough you'd know that everything had some sort of life in it. And I was going to pull that life back into him.

I furrow my eyebrows in concentration, commanded the atoms in his flesh to produce more platelets to stop the blood from gushing out, freezing blood cells in place, stitching together tissue and reconnecting blood vessels.

I didn't even get the chance to see whether I had succeeded or not in healing him as I passed out from exhaustion, Dustin's voice echoing faintly in the distance as darkness took over my vision.

....

taglist: @preciousbabypeter @iiheartbowie @beebeerockknot @nightless @lovelydivs @lovelydivs @lunar-flwr @naughty-koala07 @slutforsteve @chaoticvigilantes @loudbluepancake @frozenhuntress67 @greekktragedyy @neenieweenie @efvyqrs @vintagemoss

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic

137 notes · View notes

bmodiwrites · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Could you do this prompt for steddie??

[ teach ] your muse taking control of mine’s hand , arm , hips , etc . to make sure they do something correctly .

Oh, I have a really great idea for this one, my anonymous friend!

I'm titling this one Give Me A Beat - it ended up being around 1.5k. There's cuteness and some guitar playing. Enjoy!

Steve first heard about guitar lessons from Eddie around Christmas time. Foolishly, Steve told his cousin that he could play the guitar at a family function a couple of years ago, hoping to be impressive. Unlucky for him, her memory was very good - she called on him to play her down the aisle at her wedding in the spring. It was already too late to back out, because he'd look like an absolute liar if he did. Though, not knowing how to play the guitar but agreeing to do so was pretty fucking stupid, too.

Robin, his usual savior, brought up Eddie Munson after a particularly long stint of bitching Steve did. At first, he brushed off the idea. He heard enough about the freak to be wary, to think twice. Yet, as the days passed, Steve started to realize that he couldn't go into his cousin's wedding blind. His family already looked at him like a fool. It seemed silly to prove them right. So, he eventually gave in and turned to his personal Yoda for help. Robin grinned at him in triumph, almost like she knew something that he didn't, and giving him the number all the same.

From the get go, Steve, deep down inside, knew something was different about his time with Eddie. The voice that met him on the other side of the line when Steve called made his insides tighten up. He came to the conclusion that he appreciated the male form just as much as the female one when Billy Hargrove beat the shit out of him. Though he never explored it then, and still hadn't, Steve wasn't surprised by the reaction Eddie's long hair and narrow waist elicited. It'd been a while since anything stirred within him - that alone made his pulse sky rocket.

Driving into the trailer park, Steve wrinkled his brow. He didn't think about the address until the all too familiar path to take Max home became apparent. It was funny to park on the other side of the street from her trailer. He'd actually heard music coming from what he now knew to be Eddie's place. At least he had some assurance that the guy about to attempt to teach him to play was, in fact, quite good. Despite himself, Steve took a look at himself in the mirror before grabbing his never before used guitar and heading towards the door.

Eddie wasn't at all what he expected. Instead of the scary long haired monster Steve remembered him to be, Eddie stood before him, handsome and a bit radiant, his rich brown eyes wide in his stare at him. Steve had no idea what to do, so he smiled wide and shrugged. "I'm uh - Steve Harrington. Here for a guitar lesson."

Steve liked the way that Eddie laughed, even if it was at him. Steve's smile stuck around as Eddie led him into the trailer to a small table set up with chairs facing each other. "Have a seat, have a seat. I heard that you're a Robin referral, so I've gotta treat you right," Eddie said, sitting down in the chair facing the door. His guitar was quickly in his hands, like the instrument was an extension of him.

"She's great, saving my ass. And so are you. This is so clutch, I appreciate everything you can teach me. I'm - not all that musically inclined." That felt like an understatement, but Steve didn't want to color Eddie's opinion too much before things got started. Though, the look on Eddie's face said that Steve didn't need to say anything - the other boy already knew.

Surprisingly, Eddie was a pretty fantastic teacher. When Steve could push past the raging desire he felt towards Eddie, he learned quite a bit. The song he needed to learn for his cousin's wedding had three progressive chords, which he learned easily. Steve never said it, but he didn't need to keep going back to Eddie, he already knew well more than enough. Something stopped him every time he tried to cancel, though. The time he spent with Eddie in the hour they plucked at strings and talked about fingering, was some of the best of Steve's boring life. He'd been feeling a little without direction - somehow, Eddie made him feel more put together.

It would've been okay to simply be in the other boy's presence, but a particular shift in the shape of his fingers kept tripping Steve up. He'd been grumbling in frustration for a while when Eddie set his own guitar down and got up, circling around Steve's chair. Never mind the fact that Steve's fingers didn't want to work the way they were supposed to, Eddie's heat against his back was overwhelming. He missed the next couple of notes completely.

Steve's entire body lit up with goosebumps when Eddie spoke next - his breath ghosted along the side of Steve's neck so deliciously. "Just relax, Harrington. You just have to swing your pinky finger up and shift your wrist." Then, like gripping Steve's hand was a commonplace thing, Eddie put his hands around Steve until his fingers were moving Steve's through the movements, both on the frets and along the strum. There was a short circuit in his brain - no matter how good of a trick Eddie was showing him, Steve certainly wasn't processing anything. Instead, he was thinking about the easy way he could turn to get a little closer to Eddie.

He must've somehow babbled that last little bit out loud because Eddie laughed and moved until he was face to face with Steve. "I've been wondering when you'd decide to make a move," Eddie whispered a couple of heated seconds before they were kissing. It was impossible to tell who moved in first or whether they met each other halfway. Steve's mind broke apart even further at the first press of lip on lip. His entire body melted into a dripping pile of want he'd barely been suppressing since he first knocked on Eddie's door so many weeks ago.

The guitar that brought them together was quickly forgotten - Steve paid little attention to where it landed when he pitched it onto the floor and turned until he could bring Eddie to him. His fingers ended up in Eddie's hair so fast, Steve's surprised by the happy grunt that opened Eddie's mouth to him. Steve didn't hesitate to capitalize on the opportunity and thrust his tongue forward, tangling it with Eddie's to deepen the kiss. Though they didn't go any further than their heavy petting, Steve couldn't remember ever wanting anyone more.

A few months later when Steve played at his cousin's wedding, Eddie looked on from the furthest pew, waiting for Steve to finish so they might enjoy the wedding for themselves. And though he wasn't all that great at the guitar, Steve continued to play for those rare moments where Eddie gripped his hands and showed him exactly how the pass was played. Steve was weak for the way that Eddie embraced him and always would be.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve/eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #bobbie writes

23 notes · View notes

ababanerb · 4 years ago

Text

“when the pillars fall” shoto todoroki

Inspired by @/maddsbuckley on TikTok. Please go check her out, she’s amazing!

�� x x x

summary: shoto todoroki is strong, and he’s got the good looks to boot. but sometimes, in the dead of night, he falls apart and without fail, you’re there. you’re always there for him. then, the pillars fell, and he’s there for you just as much as you are for him.

genre: angst with a kinda happy ending

warnings: manga spoilers, takes place after the war arc, some cursing, critical injuries, hospitalization, shoto and reader are weak for each other

word count: 2,217

Shoto Todoroki is supposed to be a hero prodigy. Shoto Todoroki is supposed to stand tall and strong, and keep his father's hero legacy alive.

And he's all of those things. Except for late at night when he comes creeping into your dorm with the key you gave him to crawl underneath the covers with you because of a nightmare he had.

"I'm sorry. I can go if you want." Is what he says the first time he comes to your dorm, but knocking this time because you had yet to give him his own key.

"You've gotta at least tell me what's wrong first." You say gently, and he crumbles. He mumbles that it was just a silly little nightmare as tears roll slowly down his face and you pull him into your dorm to cuddle.

"It's not stupid if it woke you up, Sho," You say as he pulls you into him like you're a teddy bear. And it’s always a little awkward cuddling with him after he’s had a nightmare, his body fluctuating sporadically between hot and cold, but you don’t mind because the longer he holds you the faster you fall back asleep.

You ask him if he wants to tell you about it, but Shoto never does, saying that he’s already forgotten, but the feeling stays longer than the visual. And you nod, and drift off faster than you should, but Shoto doesn’t mind - he never does - and he’s so completely lost in you. He’s so completely enamored by you, and he’s never been so happy to be lost.

He continues to knock for his next five visits after the first night, and you eventually get tired of him waking you up in the dead of the night so you give him his own key.

The seventh time he shows up at your door, he doesn’t use the key. No, instead, he stands outside your door and calls you. The dial tone rings in his ear and it doesn’t help soothe the tightness in his chest or the lump in his throat at all, and he wonders if it’s really so bad for him to use the key you’d given him. Eventually though, you answer - you always do - and he falls in love with you all over again.

“Sho?” You ask, voice scratchy and stiff, and he can hear you through the door, “What’s going on?”

It’s technically a stupid question to ask, you know he’d only ever call you so late at night if he’d had a nightmare, but he also doesn’t call you very often either.

“Can I come in?” Shoto asks, and you make a groggy noise of confusion.

“What d’ya mean, Sho?”

“Can I come in?” He repeats, and then softly knocks twice on your door.

You hang up then, and Shoto watches your door swing open with tears pricking at his eyes. And when you drag him into bed with you the world feels like it could never be wide enough.

x x x

Then, your world fell apart.

The pillars that held up Japan’s hero society crumbled in a measly seven hours.

With too many prison breaks, fatalities, and injuries to count, Shoto could care less. Because you were gone. He’d been with you early that morning, before everything fell apart.

He’d been in bed with you, cuddled up close and basking in your presence, the two of you had changed into your hero costumes together. He’d been with you for hundreds of hours too little that morning, and he wants to know where you are.

He asks his older brother Natsuo where you are by showing him the little sticky note that he’d written the question on and shown to every nurse, doctor, teacher, and friend that came in to see him. His throat had been burned to hell, and he wished more than anything to get up and ask every damned person in the hospital where you were.

He’s supposed to be talking about Touya - he’s not Touya anymore, he has to remind to himself, that man is Dabi, not Touya - and all he can think about is you.

Shoto has to remind himself that he can’t cry. Because right now, the people around him need him to be strong, and that includes you, where ever you are. He hopes you can feel him wavering, desperately wishes for you to show up.

It’s on his sixth night in the hospital that somebody finally tells him where you are. It’s Bakugo, surprisingly enough.

“Hey, IcyHot,” Bakugo greets, and Shoto uses text-to-speech to ask him if he should even be walking. The blonde is covered in just as many bandages as Shoto, and when Aizawa had come by on his third day in the hospital, Shoto had been told all about everybody’s condition except yours.

“Yeah, i’m fine,” Bakugo says, easing himself into hard plastic chair next to Shoto’s hospital bed, “Y/N’s not though.”

Shoto croaks out a pathetic noise, but Bakugo doesn’t need prompting.

“All the other damn extras said not to say anything to you,” Bakugo continues, and for the first time ever, the cocky blonde is visibly nervous, worried, even, “Y/N’s in the ICU. They haven’t stabilized since they got in. Nobody’s told me what happened to them, but apparently Dunce Face was one of the last people to see her before she was brought here. He... He thought that Y/N was already dead when he last saw them. They’re in a medically induced coma, according to Mr.Aizawa.”

Shoto sits there, in silence except for the quiet humming of the AC unit, for thirty minutes. Bakugo sits with him, just as quiet.

“Where are they now?” Shoto’s phone asks, the words choppy and abrupt, and Bakugo looks pained when he tells him your room number. Neither of them do anything for a while after that, and Bakugo sits in the hard plastic chair that’d begun to make his butt sore until Shoto falls asleep with a million things on the tip of his tongue.

Shoto is released from the hospital four days later, extensive healing and pain meds made sure of that, and nobody had been allowed to see you yet. He’d asked around, and eventually he learned that you’d undergone six different procedures since you’d arrived.

Tonight would be your seventh.

x x x

It’s hot. Very hot.

The flames are blue, and a few of them lick at you, but they don’t burn. There’s a battle cry from both sides, and you watch as villains pour from the Gunga Mountain Villa. It takes five minutes, and war has broken out all around you.

You’re fighting too, better suited for close combat, and you’re watching your classmates, your friends being battered around, fighting in a war that they shouldn’t be fighting.

You’re the first to make inside the building, and you’re vaguely aware that you’re bleeding. Fatgum tells you to retreat, telling you that you look on the verge of death. You tell him you’re fine.

You’re not fine. The building is rumbling, and the ceiling’s begun to cave in, it’s hard to breathe, and you can’t see through the blood that’s caked over your left eye.

The pillars fall in seven seconds, and you fall too.

You call for him, for Shoto, in the last three seconds of your consciousness, you call for him.

It’s dark.

x x x

When you wake up, really wake up and open your eyes to look right into the harsh white fluorescent lights of your hospital room, nobody’s there with you. There’s a vase of dying roses on the windowsill, and you can already tell from the crisp handwriting on the brown tag that Shoto had been the one to leave them. And it’s cold, but you prefer that to the blazing heat you’d felt when you’d fallen asleep.

Where is Sho anyway?

Your heart monitor steadily beeps away, and when a nurse comes in to check your vitals she’s surprised to see you’re awake. And even more surprised when the first thing you ask for is Shoto.

“Sho,” You say, and your voice is dry and raw and barely a whisper, “Where’s Sho?”

The nurse stares at you wide-eyes for a moment, before she gets you a little dixie cup of water.

“Who’s Sho?” She asks, and you struggle to swallow the little cup of water she’d given you.

“Shoto Todoroki,” You say, “Is he here?”

The nurse purses her lips, and looks at you sadly, and you wonder what she’s thinking about before she tells you that she’ll be right back with the doctor. She leaves three more dixie cups of water on your foldaway table before leaving.

You sit there for almost an hour before the door opens again, and it’s a horrible hour because every time you close your eyes all you can see is the bloody battle that should have killed you.

The doctor comes in first, and right behind him is the person you’d been thinking about since you’d woken up. You’d been with him all that morning before the war, and all that night. And you were with him now.

The doctor tells you what day it is, and you start crying when he tells you it’s been almost a month since you’d first been admitted to the hospital.

“Fuck,” You whimper, voice crackling and breaking as you reach out for Shoto, and he’s there - he always is - and his hand feels so good in yours - it always does - and you start crying even harder when you see the tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sho. You look so tired.”

“I love you,” And he says it like there will never be another chance to say it, and once the first ‘I love you’ leaves his mouth fifty more follow. And the doctor looks you over as best he can, before telling you that you’re cleared for visitors and that you’d be able to leave within the week.

And as Shoto begins to cry he has to remind himself that he is supposed to be a hero prodigy. That he’s supposed to stand tall and strong, and keep his father's hero legacy alive. But you hold onto his fingers so tightly, and for once, you’re asking if you can come over because you’ve just had a nightmare. It’s a shared nightmare, Shoto tells you, shared by millions.

Two days later you’re allowed to go back home, back to the dorms, and Shoto has to help you get dressed because you can barely breathe standing up let alone walk without your legs collapsing. Shoto kisses your tears away when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You’re covered in scars, and there are still stitches in places where the wounds were slower to heal.

Your whole world fell apart in seven hours that day, and it continued to fall apart after that. Shoto’s there for you the whole way back to UA, and he tells you that your school, your second home, had become a home to thousands of others too. Shoto had given his dorm away and he’d been staying at his family home while you’d been in the hospital.

But your dorm is still there. And nothing’s changed at all.

“I’ve also been staying here too,” Shoto tells you when he helps you into bed, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, Sho,” You tell him - you never do mind - and he crawls into bed next to you, minding your right knee with it’s poky little stitches and the new metal patella that replaced the kneecap you’d shattered during the war.

Japan fell apart in four days, Shoto tells you, and you can’t find it in you to care, because the world is too big and too wide but Shoto makes it feel smaller.

It was dark, when the pillars fell. And the two of you are blind, lost in it, and you’d never been so afraid of being lost.

“I don’t think I can go back to hero work,” You tell him early the next morning, as he gets dressed to go back to his family home, “Not for a long time.”

“That’s okay, my love,” He replies, he won’t tell you, but he’s not sure he wants you to go back, “Do you want to come home with me?”

He doesn’t need to ask, because he would have taken you with him anyway.

“Yeah,” You tell him, and you struggle to push yourself up into a sitting position, “Just... Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you won’t die.”

It’s stupid thing to ask for, you know it is. Because everybody dies eventually, but you don’t know what you’d do if you lost him. The two of you are lost, but at least you’re together.

Shoto doesn’t need to question it, because he’d thought you were dead for almost a whole week. And he doesn’t ever want to be without you, even though he knows he’ll have to.

“I promise you, Y/N, I won’t ever leave you, and I won’t die.”

It’s dark, Shoto thinks, as he helps you into the back of his father’s car, But it’s much less dark with you.

492 notes · View notes