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#so curious why they still sell it and how
savebylou · 5 months
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Some items of One Direction sell on the O2 Arena in London (click in each image to see better), [credit: _tpwkells, 30.04.24].
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that-house · 9 months
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Potion Vendor FAQs:
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.
Do you sell love potions? No.
Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.
Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.
Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.
Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.
So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.
Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.
Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.
Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.
Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.
Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.
Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.
So can you make poison potions? No.
Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.
Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.
How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.
You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.
Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.
Road trip? He lives in Seattle.
Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.
For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.
And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.
Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.
Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.
You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.
So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.
Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.
Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.
Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.
What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.
You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.
Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.
Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.
Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.
Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.
Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.
Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.
When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.
When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.
Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.
Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.
Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.
Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.
I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.
How did you know that? …I’m psychic.
Yeah? No.
You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.
Did you just miss a turn? Probably.
Are you sure we’re not lost? No.
You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.
Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.
Would it help if I said it was? It would.
Is it getting dark? Soon.
Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.
Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.
Should we find a motel? Sure.
One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.
You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.
Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.
Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.
How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.
How many beds are there? One.
Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.
Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.
How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.
Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.
For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.
Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.
Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.
Are you asleep? …
Yes? …
Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …
What should I say? …
Did you know that I had a really nice day? …
Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …
Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …
Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …
Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …
Did you know that you’re warm? …
Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.
Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.
Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.
What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!
Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.
You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!
Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.
Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.
You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.
Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.
Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.
How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.
Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.
150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.
Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.
And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!
Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.
And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.
So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.
So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!
Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.
Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.
Are you done eating? Yep.
Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.
How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.
Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.
Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.
What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.
Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.
Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…
Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.
Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?
When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.
Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.
What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.
Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.
What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.
Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.
Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.
What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.
I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …
Did he get his body modified? …
What sort of surgery could do that? …
How is he still alive? …
Did a fucking wizard do it? …
WHY? …
HOW? …
Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …
I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.
Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.
Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.
Can we do that? Of course.
Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.
Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.
Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.
Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.
How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.
How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.
That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.
Wanna fuck? God yes.
Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.
…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.
How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.
How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!
Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.
When will we get there? Noon-ish.
Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.
Is this Seattle? Looks like it.
Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.
Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.
So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.
Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.
So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!
How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.
Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.
Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.
Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!
Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!
Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.
I just caught this, but, FAQ? …
As in Frequently Asked Questions? …
How many times is Frequent? …
Have you known everything all along? …
How many times have you done this? …
Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!
And you say that every time? Yes. I do.
Do you love me? Yes.
How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.
Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.
Can I go now? Please don’t.
But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.
How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.
What happens at the end of this? It begins again.
And do I get replaced with someone else? …
Do I get replaced? …Yes.
Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!
You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.
How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?
Did you know my name is Alice? …
Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …
Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …
Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!
Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.
Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.
Be good to the next me, okay? I will.
Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.
Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.
What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.
What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!
What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.
Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.
What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.
What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!
So I should keep repeating something? Yes!
I love you? I love you too.
I love you? Again.
I love you? Keep going.
I love you? I’ll just let you talk.
I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!
I love you? Now can you make it a statement?
I love you.
You did it?
I did it!
You did it!
We broke the loop.
What now?
Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.
And then?
Whatever we want, forever.
I think I’d like that.
Remember that song from the beginning?
The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?
We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?
Let me off, let me in
Let others battle
We don’t need to battle
And we both shall win
Pressed in my palm
Was a stone from the beach
The perfect circle
Gave a moment of peace
Now I’m lying on the floor
Like I’m not worth a chair
I close my eyes and imagine
I’m not there.
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bigfootsboytoy · 1 year
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Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.
So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.
Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.
Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.
He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.
He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.
Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.
And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.
By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.
Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.
"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"
Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.
"I don't mind sharing."
Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.
Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.
"Are you really gay?"
Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.
"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."
It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.
"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"
"It's not weird."
"Okay."
Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.
"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."
"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."
"What do you do when it's not enough?"
"Hmmm?"
"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"
Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.
"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."
"Oh."
Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.
"I don't know how to do any of that."
He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.
"Steve...are you lonely?"
Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.
He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.
He panics a little at the sight.
"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."
And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.
Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.
"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.
"I don't know man. I just wish-"
He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.
"What do you wish Steve?"
"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"
It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.
He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.
He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.
Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.
He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.
"Thanks man."
And Eddie takes another leap of faith.
"I could be that person, you know."
"What?"
"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."
Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.
"Just for tonight?"
It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.
"Yeah. For tonight Steve."
"I think...I think I'd like that."
Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.
"Alright sweetheart."
Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.
He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.
He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.
"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."
"Can you tell me about it?"
"Hmmm?"
"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"
And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.
"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"
"The real one."
"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."
Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.
"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"
Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.
"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."
Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.
"That sounds nice."
It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.
*It's only for tonight.*
He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.
But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.
Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.
Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.
But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.
Just for one night.
And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.
4K notes · View notes
theyluvlyss · 9 months
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����𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 !
and it's me getting to write henry being a simp🥴🥰. thank you for requesting, I honestly didn't think I'd get any for henry danger, so just this one has me allll /ᐠo⩊oマ !!! So ya, enjoy :).
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𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬
《 ♡ 》 oneshot
───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :
being the girlfriend of swellview's resident sidekick could be tough sometimes. always covering for him, constantly worrying about his safety, forever missing him...
but, regardless, he always made sure to remind you that you are the most important thing in his life. even if he has to wake you out of a dead sleep to do it...
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :
fem!girlfriend!reader x henry hart - she/her/hers pronouns! - knows henry's super-identity/works with captain man!
𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :
during season four (and up) (vaguely) - it's mildly implied to be winter
𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :
cursing (I think? I don't remember, but just in case lol) - yelling (in a jokey/lighthearted way tho) - henry being so boyfriend - a poison ivy knock-off gets featured in here cuz I thought it would be funny lmao - lmk if I missed anything /ᐠ~˕~マ.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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As you stocked shelves and marked down certain pricey items for the holiday's swift approach, you couldn't help but huff. Couldn't help but wonder why it was you had agreed to such a position. Hardly anyone even comes into Junk n' Stuff! Why did you have to play pretend employee for a vacant audience when you could be down in the Mancave with Charlotte and Schwoz, observing and maybe even solving crime and mysteries?
At this point, you might as well have taken real a job at a real shop or store.
But, then again... you were getting the bonus perks of higher pay, given as your boss was a literal superhero. And, because of the fact that the whole of Junk n' Stuff was a front, customers were rare. It was like being on break from three to ten, only ever selling to the occasional old person looking for a rare trinket, or a curious kid looking to resell something "vintage." Whatever the case, you were on your phone for most of the time, and were always happy to work alongside your best friend and your superhero boyfriend.
The third perk, you realized, even if you weren't exactly on the field beside him. You supposed it wasn't all bad. It's not like a lot of other girls had the guilty pleasure of saying the same.
"I work at a fake mom and pop shop that barely gets any customers, but it's okay because it's just a cover up for my boss who's actually Captain Man, and his sidekick, Kid Danger, is actually my boyfriend. My best friend Charlotte and I work to keep him safe every other day, and to top it all off, I get paid more than what my parents make in a week."
You shook your head, huffing to yourself in amusement. Not only was it a mouthful to say, but it sounded insane. Not that you'd ever actually say it to anyone but yourself in your head. But, speaking- er, thinking of...
You pulled your phone from your back pocket, taking your focus off of the box of probably stale snacks you were stacking near the front desk and onto Henry's already open contact. You scanned over your thread of texts between each other, your last message from earlier in the day still left on delivered. You didn't take this to heart, already aware of how busy his missions tended to get. And dangerous, too, hence why you had initially sent...
─────────────────────
my man😙❤️
───────────
Be careful out there today, k?
Ily💞✨️
Delivered
─────────────────────
And sure, after checking now, seeing you'd been left on delivered the whole time mildly stung. But you understood and didn't allow that to be the thing that slightly dampened your mood. Instead, you remained worried for your boyfriend, contemplating if you should send another text his way. Or maybe even call him. Just to see...
You fanned the idea away, setting your phone face down on the floor and continuing to do your "job." Anything to take your mind off of the peril Henry could be facing right now, and the last thing he needed was you distracting him. You wouldn't be needy. At least, not right now. But you'd continue to wonder what was happening, where he was, what dangers he was facing...
"Oh...! (Y/N)."
You turned at the sound of your name, smiling as Charlotte stepped out of the elevator.
"It's past ten, I thought you'd be home by now."
"Me too...!" You sighed, a dry chuckle leaving along with. "I guess I was just subconsciously hoping Ray and Henry would be back by now."
Charlotte gave her own chuckle and an understanding nod at your half-joking confession, moving closer until she was squatted beside and assisting you with the rest of your stocking.
"I wouldn't worry too much. They got this. They always do."
"I know, it's just-"
"-Besides, it's only Greenleaf. And you already know..."
You two shot each other a knowing glance, finishing her sentence at the same time together before laughing.
"...She always folds for Ray."
As you set up the last of the snacks, the two of you stood, cardboard box on your hip while Charlotte had scooped up your phone and handed it back to you.
"You're right, you're right." You admitted, tossing your head from side to side with a shrug. "Plus, I'm pretty sure her goals are relatively Mother Nature related. Can't say I blame her."
"Excatly." Charlotte agreed. "She rarely ever does any real harm, so trust me, Henry will text you back before you know it."
And with that, you two shared your final goodbyes for the evening, and your fret had subsided. Like you said, she was right, Greenleaf more of a particular "low level" classified supervillain, which meant an easy battle. If you'd even call it that. You predicted that right about now, Ray was doing his best to appeal to her charm and romance to subdue her, and though gross... it always seemed to work, so you didn't question it.
With that in mind, you finally decided to call in, clocking out for the evening and daydreaming on the walk home of a hearty dinner, a hot shower, and the warmth and cozy of your bed.
───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────
In the comfort of your room with your nighttime routine accomplished, you remained settled in bed with your eyes glued to your phone. Maybe not the healthiest option, but TikTok was very compelling in the late evenings. Especially when you needed a good laugh or a new song/audio to discover and add to your playlist. You scrolled endlessly, allowing the time to tick by without worry or care because tomorrow (in an hour or two) would be a stress free Saturday.
The millionth swipe upwards of your thumb brought you to your next video, a boy and a girl close in age to yourself participating in a trend that had been circling around for a little bit. It was cute, the way they both adorned wide, cheesy smiles, and their pajamas matched with each other. Even while they performed a popular dance, sticking to routine, you could sense the chemistry they had with one another through the screen. All of it ending with the boy scooping her into his arms, littering kisses across her face that she giggled at over the music.
If anyone asked, you'd be a little embarrassed to admit that you had let the video replay several times before giving it a like and then scrolling away. But, you couldn't - no - wouldn't deny the achy feeling it left you with.
Suddenly, you were no longer laughing at everything you saw and/or heard. No longer wishing to be on the app itself any longer because the ache in your chest was growing too much to bear. Too much for you to ignore, thinking about that random couple and their adorable antics.
How much it reminded you of your own boyfriend; how much you really did miss Henry. It wasn't like you didn't see each other often, practically every day. But it didn't stop you from always wishing to be near him, that he was with you. Family, school, and being a superhero did take up quite a bit of his attention, not that you doubted you were the fourth thing on his list. Selfishly, you assumed the second, at least...
But anyhow, in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache and to refrain from pestering him, you migrated from TikTok to your gallery, scrolling around until you reached a large cluster of pictures and videos from days past.
First thing, you were met with a short thread of silly pictures, Henry striking poses and making faces he'd forbid from showing to anyone, and you immediately sent them to Charlotte and Jasper agreed, for the sake of his dignity. Or just some random action shots, the complete blur of his figure due to moving too fast, which you would keep because they were still funny, after all.
But eventually, you came across a video, it automatically playing as you watched in reminiscence of your time at the mall together. You were both fresh from a Bath & Body Works, your phone's point of view shaking and aimed as though it were snooping around in your bag before pulling away and revealing your hand being held by none other than Henry himself.
"What'd ya' get me?" You chirped as though you hadn't just shown the audience already. But, it was clear you wanted to hear it from him at the time, both past/video and present you giggling at the way Henry shot a smirk your way with eyes that read, "Really?"
"What I always get you." He answered simply, looking ahead as you two walked. "The world."
"Harhar." You could be heard giving an equally sarcastic laugh before adding, "Yes, but specifically this time."
"Boba and (signature/scent)."
Again, both past/video and present you shared another laugh, and you were sure of the fact that you were admiring him shamelessly with your eyes full of love at that moment, just as you were now as the video went on.
"How come?" You pressed with glee, Henry's head shifting back towards you as he spoke.
"'Cause I love you. 'Cause you deserve it. 'Cause it feels gooood."
He laughed along with you at the way he elongated his words at the end of his sentence, a quirk he picked up from who-knows-where that always had you playfully rolling your eyes. In real time, though, the video had ended there, and you were swift to find another one, craving more of that feeling... that mock-comfort of Henry being with you when he actually wasn't.
It was the best you could do, for now, so you'd continue, snuggling deeper into your blankets and pillows while his voice kept ringing out from your phone.
"You smell really good." Was his first comment, ironically per the last video, stated while you admired yourself in selfie mode before switching to the back camera.
He was already stalking closer towards your position on his bed, in his room, before flopping down right into your lap and looking up at you like a puppy.
"And I love your eyes."
"My eyes?" You questioned, as though you were surprised, or as if he should be talking about someone else's.
"Mhm." He nodded slowly. "Your beautiful eyes and those lips of yours. You're too perfect, y'might have to get that checked out or something."
Your laugh at his joking statement caused the camera to shake, and it made you realize that in the moment, you had missed the way he continued to behold you. To cherish the rest of your features and run his hand against your lower stomach as his face flushed with red at the sound of your giggles. Laughter he caused, which made him happy, you assumed, given the way he couldn't even fight his own smile.
You wished you hadn't missed it all at the time, but were glad you were seeing it now; all of his love that then went poured into one gesture before the video ended.
He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentleness you were still currently missing, the video ending, and the silence of your room setting in.
It didn't help the ache like you thought it would, possibly even making it worse. And because of that, you thought it wise to call it a night, giving your messages one more check before making the last minute choice to send another. A final one for the evening, because at least that would bring you peace of mind.
─────────────────────
my man😙❤️
───────────
Be careful out there today, k?
Ily💞✨️
Delivered
Goodnight
I love you sm<3
❤️✨️
Delivered
─────────────────────
───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────
"So, uhh... you ever try Olive Garden?"
The woman, hair fiery red and a fitted suit made from the vines and plants she created (which were now being chopped away at by police in light of her villainous attempts), shot the man, Captain Man, a look of confusion and disgust. If her wrists hadn't been bound by handcuffs, she'd send another vine after him just for his obliviousness.
"No. I would never in my life..."
She didn't even have to finish her sentence, the tone implying that she wouldn't be caught dead eating from a place that required slaughtering animals and ripping plants from the ground just to serve "fine" cuisine.
"Is Olive Garden not vegan?"
Greenleaf couldn't even fathom a rebuttal to such stupidity, that fact clearly written all over her face as she was hauled away by more policemen. Ray, of course, didn't exactly catch on but jumped at Henry's shout from behind.
"Dude...!" A pause, striking out a hand to further enforce his demand. "Stop flirting with the supervillain...!"
"I'm-! . . ." Ray couldn't even deny that he was doing such a thing (granted, Greenleaf is an attractive woman), but would take advantage of his older age anyhow, pointing an index finger towards his younger partner sternly.
"Mind your business! Unlike you, Kid Danger, I have had the pleasure of time, which has allotted me the grace of perfecting my wit, savvy, and charm, I'll have you know. So-"
He was interrupted by Henry's gloved palm resting against his face, serving as a method to stop him from strolling any closer while Henry casually scrolled through his phone, his tone all the same.
"Hang on, my girlfriend just texted me."
Ray scoffed, seconds away from letting Henry know that he shouldn't be distracted on the job. That is, until he continued to go on with a flat tone, underlying bits of hilarity under it in attempts to get under Ray's skin.
"Y'know, the thing you don't have? The girl I used my natural born wit, savvy, and charm on to win over?"
"I get it!!"
Henry looked up with a smile at Ray's exclamation, innocently nodding with a swift, "Yeah." before putting his attention back to his screen.
─────────────────────
my wife❤️
Be careful out there today, k?
Ily💞✨️
9:23p.m.
Goodnight
I love you sm<3
❤️✨️
11:37p.m.
─────────────────────
What had been giddiness at first morphed into a feeling of guilt, thoughts of your saddened face sinking deep into his brain the moment he realized he had missed your texts. That you had apparently even gone to bed without hearing so much as a word from him all evening.
And sure, he knew you'd probably excuse it the next day, simply telling him that it "was fine" and that you "understood." And while that might be the case, he couldn't help but give in to the thought that you'd much rather have gotten to hear from him tonight. At the very least.
Besides, it's not like he didn't miss you, too. He missed you a lot, actually. You constantly on the brain every single time he fought and/or solved any crime, because if there was one person he'd guarantee the safety of while being in Swellview, it was you. But, along with your safety, he also wanted to make things up to you. He wanted your happiness. And he knew he was one of the sole people who could provide that, therefore...
"Alright, I gotta' get outta' here."
"What?" Captain Man blinked rapidly, unexpecting of Henry's sudden announcement of departure. "No-! No, we have to clean up this mess. Look at all of these vines!"
"Yep, it's...quite the jungle." Henry admitted lacklusterly, nodding to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder and slowly backing away. "But, uh, it's Friday, and..."
"Exactly! Friday night, no school, which leaves you plenty of time to help me out. You're on clean-up duty tonight, bud!"
Henry, again, nodded along with Ray's words. He continued to take his giant steps away from the scene, talking fast and only thinking about you in the process, hence why his logic came out a little more than flawed...
"Right, except no, because last I checked, the saying goes, "Blow bubbles fight crime, feels good." Not, "Blow bubbles, fight crime, clean up a mess that's not mine." And, I gotta be honest, that would not feel very good. It would actually feel baaaad, which is exactly how you-know-who is probably feeling right about now..."
"Don't even say her name, kid."
A pause lingered in the air before Henry disobeyed direct instruction.
"I gotta go see (Y/N)."
And he was gone before the conversation could continue, Ray left on his own to help the police with deforesting the city's town hall. And, as much as it behooved him to do so, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if he was still Henry's age with a girl like you, he'd probably do the same.
He huffed, giving his sidekick the benefit of the doubt for tonight.
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Tossing and turning slowly as you woke, you hadn't yet processed what it was that had actually brought you from your slumber until you were fully sitting up in bed, finally able to recognize the sound as a gentle knock.
This then alarmed you, your head whipping around your surroundings in a flurry in an attempt to pinpoint the sound that had spiked up your heart rate in the dead of night. But, once you had managed to place the noise coming from your window, your fear settled into more of a light curiosity and confusion. It brought you from your bed, your feet now met with the cold air around you as you crept forward towards your window.
Steadily pulling back your curtains, your caution slowly turned into joy and surprise, a smile spreading across your face that matched the one on your boyfriend's own face behind the glass.
"Henry...!" You whisper-shouted, his name muffled as he watched you move to unlock your window. He was grateful that you were quick with this action, no longer having to mildly shiver outside while you pulled him through and onto your bedroom floor, admiring his figure in the dimness of your room.
"It's so late, what're you doing here?"
Your question escaped in the midst of a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes while his own darted back to where the clock sat on your nightstand.
12:54a.m.
"I know, I'm sorry, (N/N). I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, using a nickname that brought another smile to your face once the yawn had passed.
"I just...didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, y'know? I would've answered your texts sooner, I was just-"
"-I know." You cut in with a nod. "I understand, it's okay."
He laughed quietly to himself, all too correct about your compassion when it came to him that he sometimes felt he didn't fully deserve. Like now, keeping his hands hidden behind his back with something that'd hopefully make up for it all.
"It's not, though. I wanna be fair to you with my time. Want you to know that I care about you and that I'll be there for you, whether I'm Kid Danger or just Henry Hart."
"Woah, hey, you're not... just Henry Hart." You corrected, coming closer and placing a tired hand on his shoulder. It was only here that you realized he wore nothing but a white t-shirt, the rest of his super-apparel tied around his waist, red cargo pants and combat boots still intact. Pretty on point symbolism for the moment, if anyone asked you...
"You... are Henry Hart. You're my boyfriend with a lot on your plate, and I know that it's just not fair of me to expect all of your time, which is why I don't. But no matter what, I do love you for giving me whatever you can, so it's very much okay."
You didn't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he was probably just as red as he was in your videos from earlier, his bashful smile going hidden when he let his head drop for just a moment.
"I love you, too." A pause before he quickly debunked your reassurance with some of his own. "And it's not okay, which is why I got you these..."
And suddenly, you realized why he had kept his hands hidden behind him like some wise old man, revealing to you a bouquet of flowers of all kinds. An almost randomized assortment that'd be pretty hard to find in any flower shop. At any shop at all, given...
"Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! It's like, midnight, though, where did you get these?" You squealed quietly, doing your best not to wake up any family in the house while you took the flowers into your hands and admired them the best you could under the moon's light.
"Uhh..."
Henry really didn't know how to answer that, scratching the back of his neck in remembrance of his horrid sneak attempt through his neighbor's backyard.
"I stole 'em." Was what came out way too nonchalantly, leaving you to choke on air while your eyes widened.
"What...?! Henry-!"
"I'm kidding, I didn't steal-... Well... I mean, technically, yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."
"I don't know what I'm thinking...!" You burst through confused laughter. "My boyfriend just told me he stole flowers for me. From where?!"
His eyes shifted from you, to the side, and then back again, folding at the sight of your expecting face looking back up at him.
"My neighbor..." His voice strained quietly, and you could all but sigh and shake your head, letting your nose bury itself back into the makeshift bouquet of freshly stolen flowers.
"That old lady is gonna strangle you with her bare, wrinkly hands."
Henry snorted, sparing you his impulsive thought of the fact she'd have to know it was and catch him first, and instead, fake pain at your light slaps to his chest.
"You're supposed to be a superhero, not a midnight theif...!"
"Hey, c'mon..." He cooed, tugging you closer and smiling when you did begrudgingly move forward towards him.
"...You know I'd go rogue for you any time."
"Y'know, I'm starting to miss Kid Danger." You quipped with a smirk. "At least he'd know better than to pluck flowers from someone's garden."
"Mmm. Fair." He nodded before obnoxiously pushing his forehead up against yours. "But does he kiss you the same way I do?"
"Mmm-"
And before you could pretend to debate the matter, he had done just that, forever gentle with you as he placed his lips on yours and stole any thoughts, stability in your legs, and air in your lungs you had left.
Well, maybe not steal. You'd let him have that any time, the same way he'd bring you flowers at midnight to make up for any of his absences.
Just the thought had you breaking the kiss with another giggle, your turn to grow shy at the attention before you were finally able to fully heal the last little remnants of that ache in your chest.
"You should stay."
You threw it out as a casual suggestion even though you were practically screaming inside for him to say yes. And of course, you got your wish, because what wouldn't he do for you?
"I will."
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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨🤭...
but seriously, I really hope you enjoyed, this was super fun and cute for me to write. got me wishing he was under my tree for xmas😔✋🏽.
also, I apologize for this taking as long as it did, there's reasons I have that will be later explained in a separate post/announcement, so ya :'D.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :
@junknstufff
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :
3,877
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :
none :(
1K notes · View notes
fhrlclln · 2 months
Text
underneath | qimir
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SUMMARY -> ever since you found him and he trained you, he had always concealed his identity to you for his unknown reasons. you were always curious what he looks like underneath the cortosis helm he wears. though, this time the curiosity in you would be sated at last when a particular sparring session turns into an unexpected lesson in trust.
qimir x acolyte!fem! reader
masterlist
GENRE -> mild nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, sexual tension, mild violence, master/pupil dynamic & smut is at the end : P
WC -> 2.82k
a/n: surprise! another qimir fic cuz i can’t get him out of my head.
likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3
enjoy !!
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"have you ever wondered what he looks like underneath that mask?"
you asked your fellow pupil, mae, one day out of the blue. the particular reason for asking that question had always been because of your undying curiosity for the years you started to train under him.
your masked master.
"i don't." mae would answer, saying that she doesn't care what he would look like underneath the mask. saying that as long as he trains her, his identity doesn't matter to her. you understood her with that, she was his acolyte first and it probably dawned upon you that the years of concealing his identity to her she had thrown away the curiosity of what their master looked like.
but on the other hand, you, you somehow couldn't stop wondering.
you had found him or- he had found you when you were escaping your slave captors after your own sister had betrayed you in selling you to them. you were angry, in rage and unaware of the dormant power that had awoken in you with that rage you had felt. and in your fit of rage, you had managed to slaughter two of the captors chasing you, leaving you feeling guilty for your horrendous actions. you decided to escape and flee the planet. that is until by some chance, you had come across the masked stranger in the middle of the night who had told you about the gift you possessed, telling that you shouldn't be ashamed you used it in your self-defense.
and that's when he had took you under his wing, training you as his pupil.
he had taught you what your gift was, what your power is. he trained you, taught you and for the most part, despite him putting this distance between you and mae, he had helped you. and maybe that’s why you’re so curious to know who he is really, you wanted to see the master who had graciously accepted you despite you knowing your connection with the force was not as strong as mae’s.
he was… well, you could not really put a strong opinion on what kind of a man your master was. for the most part, he was always away and in training sessions, he was closed-off and distant. but when he spars with you and mae, that’s when a hint of his personality is peeking through.
rough, aggressive, strict. the way he spared with you had left you with tired sore knees and bruised arms when defending. on the offensive attacks you made he was quick to dodge and maneuver himself with your predictable attacks. he was ruthless in his combat but there was still that fluidity in it. but you knew he still held back with you despite the aggressiveness. you wished he had put more effort in your sparring sessions just like mae’s but you knew he was focusing more on her since she was at the brink of completing her lessons.
“safe travels, mae.” you wish her luck as she nods at you. the master had given her final lesson- to kill a jedi without a weapon. you were proud of your fellow acolyte but it did upset you how much you were falling behind. the waves splash in the background as you watch her walk to her ship. you wave her off as you saw it fly out the cloudy atmosphere then jumped into hyperspace, on the course to euda.
the sea breeze helps you gather your thoughts, and you wonder if the master would train you further today. seeing that mae had to learn this lesson by herself. sensing him, you feel the pull of the force as you turn around to see your master standing a few feet away from you.
the scene makes you remember that night when you found him. for a moment it did frighten you to see him loom over you when you fell to your knees from running. you were injured then and you had momentarily thought he was one of the slave traders that was trying to capture you. it took you a while to get used to him being like this when he appears out of the blue. well, for a random person, it would seem frightening to see a masked stranger dressed in black robes suddenly appear in mid-air. plus the saber tucked in his belt.
“master.” you greet him, anticipation lingering inside you.
“we shall continue your training today, my acolyte.” his modulated voice says. you feel your chest swell with excitement as you nodded. “be prepared.”
“of course, master.” you bowed slightly as he walks off to where the sparring lessons usually are. you smiled to yourself, maybe this time he’d finally put more effort in your training as you walk with a slight spring in your steps.
・゜゜・.
“focus.”
he says as your feet scraped against the rocks at his force push. you huff, your chest heaving, your leather tunic is starting to stick on your glistening sweaty skin, making you feel uncomfortable. you sigh, frustrated how you were not landing a single blow on him. your mind was elsewhere, seeming that you are still focused on wondering what he looks like underneath that mask.
“use that frustration. focus on your emotions.” he commands and you composed yourself, swatting the questions of his unknown face in your head. you ready yourself in a fighting stance, body facing to the side while you wave your arm in front of you. you clenched your fist for a moment as you heed into his words and attack. you use the force to heighten your leap towards him as you land a blow but he dodges again. an uppercut, he doges, a kick you do he dodges again. you feel yourself get even more irritated but in ease that he was finally not holding back when he blocks one of your blows with his arm.
but still, you were still not fighting the way he has to expect you to fight.
“you are too trustful in me, acolyte.” he scolds you, the modulated tone ringing. he backs away from you as you stopped, confused. yes, you indeed trust him, why was it a bad thing?
“i beg your pardon, master?” your breaths are labored and somehow from the close distance, you could hear him sigh underneath the mask.
“you are too trustful.” he says again. “do not trust me that i will not kill you even if i am training you. trust in yourself. we cannot continue this lesson if you do not learn to do that.” a chill runs through your spine at his words. there’s a slight pang of hurt in those words of his that were true. yes, he could kill you. why wouldn’t he if you failed him? you seem to stiffen at his words as he reminds you again, this time he will take the offensive attack.
“trust is a fragile thing. you cannot trust anyone but yourself, my acolyte. even if the person has sworn to trust you, they would eventually betray you. but yourself? you cannot betray yourself.” he explains as you nodded at his words. “when since you had put your whole trust in someone and they betrayed you in the end?”
you look at him, rage starting to boil in you when you remembered your own sister’s betrayal. your chest tightens and your mind is enraged with it. the pain she had put you in, the survival you had to do, the running you had to tire and the people you had to kill just to be free-
“there it is.” he says, proud. feeling your ever glowing rage.
“now, focus.” he suddenly attacks you as you dodged swiftly. both of you move in a tandem, as if it were a dance. the painful realization that even your master, the one who saved you and took you in, would eventually might betray you as well. the rage in you is at its boiling point as you let out a guttural scream when he almost aims for your neck. you push him back with your force then surging to him with heat in your steps as you attacked. he blocks your powerful blow with two of his arms forming an x. you kick him immediately on the stomach and he lurches, caught off guard.
you were too in to your emotions as you attacked and attacked. he tries to doge and block your every hit but he eventually succumbs to your rage when you finally kicked him to the ground. before he could stand, you immediately come on top of him, preventing that. you fist the collar of his robe, clenched hand in the air ready to land a final punch-
“excellent, my acolyte.” he cuts you off as you suddenly blink back into your rational self. you let go of his collar and you let yourself relax but ultimately surprised how close you are to him. you’re on top of him, your legs caging his waist and he seems not to dismiss you to get off. you can see clearly his helmet now, it was full of marks of previous battles. you take your time to admire him beneath you, how his adam’s apple bob and the sheen of sweat covering his bare muscular arms that were bulging with veins.
you blush, realizing you were staring at your master with ill thoughts.
but… the curiosity of what he looks like underneath it makes you wonder. your hand slowly comes up to his helmet and you feel him watch you with every move you make. he observes silently and you hovered your hand above his masked face. but you snap out of it again, realizing you could have offended him. and he could kill you for this. you know he takes great lengths to conceal his identity.
“a-apologies, master, i-“ before you could retract your hand and get off him. his hand suddenly grips your wrist. your eyes widened as he sits up and you adjust, hovering above his lap. he tilts his head to the side inquisitively, as if he was amused to see your curiosity be revealed. you stay quiet, staring at his masked face, waiting for his words. your cheeks are hot and you feel the anticipation grow in you. he places your hand on the side of his mask, the way he brushes your fingers softly makes you feel wobbly now.
“go on.” he merely says. you stutter, not knowing what to say. did he just agreed for you to remove his mask? your thoughts are jumbled but you succumb to your curiosity. you put both of your hands to both sides of his masked face. you slowly remove it inch by inch whilst you stared at the peaking facial features you have longed imagined what he looked like. you remove the helm completely and your heart skips a beat.
your eyes meet with a strangely beautiful dark ones.
his black hair is disheveled, his skin is smooth and his jawline is handsomely well chiseled. your eyes roam his face and it settles to his pink lips. you feel a hum of arousal between your legs when you look into his eyes again. his face is so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath tingle your lips. you put his helmet down to your side as the other brushes the black locks of his concealing his face. his pupils grow dark, your lips are inches to his and you somehow feel in-trance to lock it with yours.
this, this is the face of your master.
he’s beautiful. you think as you let out a noise when his other hand brush against your thigh. the other gently grips your hand that brushed his hair. you wondered why he had hidden his beautiful face from you and mae.
“master…” you plead as he smirks and it makes you blush.
“you did good today.” his low voice with a rasp of approval instead of the modulated one made your stomach churn and your thighs clench. the way his lips are still hovering above yours makes your head dizzy with the anticipation of what he’s doing. his top lip brushes against yours and he leans forward but before you could feel his soft lips lock with yours, you pull back. this is wrong.
“apologies, master.” you place your hands on his chest as you pulled yourself up to your feet. he seems taken aback for a moment with your rejection but composes himself as he eyes you up with a dark glint in his eyes.
“curiosity is normal. don’t be embarrassed.” he chuckles and that rings through your ears. the way he acts now is dissimilar to when he has his mask on and it baffles you how human he now is. you don’t know what to say, fearing that you have failed him in almost every way. you watch him stand up then grabbed his helmet and he looks at you. something in his gaze shines with hunger.
“we’ll continue our lesson another time.” he walks pass you and the brush of his arm against yours makes your heart jump.
“yes, master.” the initial shock of the situation still hasn’t faded when he’s out of your sight. you gulp, sweat dripping down your forehead. was he not upset that you know his face now? would he kill you for it later perhaps? those questions hang in the air. your heart still beats remembering his lips close to yours. you turn back, walking back to the shore, there’s a feeling you can’t seem to place as you let your thoughts linger on your master’s revealed face.
・゜゜・.
you dry your face with a rag then pulled a fresh tunic and bottoms from your pile of fresh clean robes. the dimness of the light inside your room in the cave made it comforting for your wild thoughts. you put on the brown tight bottoms then the grey tunic. but those thoughts soon come alive when you felt a presence near the entrance of your room.
you turn around swiftly, seeing your master standing right by the concave opening of your room. no mask on but just wearing… perfectly normal clothing. he dawned a white tunic and usual black bottoms, his hair is slicked back, damp from his bath you presumed. you stand awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. you were used to his mysterious persona.
“you did exceptionally well today.” he begins with a praise. “but, i am surprised how focused you are on knowing what i look like.”
“thank you.” you merely say, eyes shying away when he points out your curiosity. “i apologize for that, master.”
“don’t be.” he steps forward and each step he takes has an anticipation behind them. you stay in your place, taking in how comforting he looks. “i’m glad for your curiosity.” he confesses.
“you are?” you are surprised with that.
qimir nods, adoring the way you seemed so surprised. he had his reasons for concealing his identity to you and mae. it was for to create a distance between the master and pupil. he feared attachment might overcome why he took you under his wing. he knows you already saw him as a person who finally cared for you and in truth, he does. you are a gifted woman with the force and over the years despite the distance he placed, you managed to crawl into his cold heart.
“but i fear your curiosity isn’t sated enough.” he points out and the atmosphere in the room changes. you know what he means. when you had almost kissed him but you hesitated, fearing that things might change drastically after that. he was your master after all. he steps closer to you, the distance is just like the one moments ago.
“am i right?” he asks when you stare at his lips. you wondered if mae would be enraged for what you are about to do as your body moved at its own accord.
you surge forward and lock your lips with his.
and that ends up with you sprawled underneath him. your curiosity is sated and he rewards you more with a thrust of his hips with his cock inside you. you clench around him, your hands caressing the width of his broad back. here you are, your naked body pressed against his as you moan in his ear. he groans, suckling the soft flesh of your neck.
“master…” you sigh, legs wrapped around tight on his waist. his hands are holding your thighs in place as he thrusts his cock into your warm heat. he locks eyes with your heavy one and it makes him soar at the feeling of you wrapped around him. he smirks as he kisses you hotly as he grinds his hips down.
your curiosity indeed was successfully sated by him.
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evilminji · 6 months
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*evil grin of The Ponderings™*
You know who DEFINITELY would have Unfinished Business?
Heroes. Professional "If I could just MOVE, just fight a BIT LONGER, save ONE MORE PERSON" Heroes. It's the ultimate and unending Unfinished Business. To protect people. Not just their friends, their co-workers, but the innocent people around them.
That kid, stuck crying in the rubble.
That business man, screaming in pain, caught in the cross fire.
The People NEED them. They SWORE. Their very SOULS burn with the NEED to help. But... the flesh gave out. Injuries. Age. Quirk overuse. They knew... they KNEW, this was not a safe line of work... but... but! Please! Just one more person! Why can't they just make their breaking, dying, bodies MOVE!
Of course they refuse to move on.
They are needed HERE.
Yet? Their hands pass through. Their voices do not reach. A hell of their own, unknown, making. They can't let go, but they can't HELP either. There isn't enough Ectoplasm here. The walls of their reality overly patched up, since that unfortunate leak a few centuries back.
After all, the Zone had dumped near lethal quantities of unfiltered Ecto into the atmosphere. They're STILL dealing with the mutations and fall out, aren't they? At least, they are according to the Zone. (Wtf is a "Quirk"?) And, yeah, someone should PROBABLY do an assessment on the ecological recovery of the Reality. But like?
Do you have any idea how few people have an Obsession for stuff like that? Wait your turn! The list is long and you're not fuckin special, okay? The agents are BUSY.
Now, you might wonder? Wait. If they aren't moving on. Are DEFINITELY Ghosts. Starving as they are. Refusing to die as they may be. Wouldn't... Wouldn't that leave the whole ass area around their Reality an ecological dead zone? If it got over patched and no Ghosts LEFT, thus noticed, and started to try and work on it from the outside? Assuming the COULD?
Yeah. Yeah it would be!
It's called the "New Wastes"!
There used to be some cool Lairs around there. But there was a turf dispute. Someone DID something. Punched a HOLE. And everyone re-died. It was fixed but never quite re-healed. Portals... don't show up there? For some reason? Meh. Wanna brawl?
No. Danny's curious. He wants ANSWERS.
It's his fatal flaw.
Well... that and his inability to keep his mouth shut. But he likes to think he's funny. So... off he goes! And MAN! Does it feel funky out there! Weird textures. Mmmm, Don't Like THAT ™. It's probably a King thing? The Zone here... FEELS wrong.
Not... the way it's SUPPOSED to be shaped, if that makes sense?
And? It feels... if you sorta squint? Like... a LOT of people AREN'T where they should be. But aren't gonna leave until they're READY. Ooof. Great. Someone messed up again. Why does he KEEP FINDING bits and pockets that need straightening out? Unruffling? It's like he has to keep smooth out this giant peice of fabric with all these stains on it. Clean the messes on it.
He feels more like a maid then a King.
Maybe he is?
Pretty sure he's more of a nanny, since the Zone is more of a whiny yet excitable toddler then anything else. Alright, let him in. And fix... whatever THAT is.
So he steps into the Reality and? Huh. Japan. Neat. He always meant to go, never got around to it. Why is that man an otter?
.......oooohohooo, this place was HELLA fucked up by Ectoplasm, wasn't it? This is multi generational exposure. It's in the air. The water, ground, buildings. But stale to the point of stagnation. That can't be healthy. At least a few people he sees have developed ecto-resistance, thank the Ancients.
Danny discovers there are? "Superheroes"? Or just... heroes, apparently. They sell shampoo lines and athletic gear. Villians are petty criminals and psychopaths. All lumped together. He gets fuckin CHASED by the COPS and half the cities spandex patrol, called a "villian" (you know, like the purse snatchers and the DUDE WHO TRIED TO OPEN FIRE ON A CROWD) for flying around trying to assess the situation. Not speaking Japanese fast enough.
Soooorry! He TRIED to answer your confusing barked demands! This isn't his native language! He's translating through Ghost Speech! He knows it sounds unsettling to the living! It's the best he's GOT, man! (Asshole)
He escapes, obviously, because he's not 14 anymore. And honestly? He could top 200mph or so AT 14. He's only gotten faster. Intangible flight means no wind drag, motherfuckers~! OR need to dodge buildings! HA. Try to follow him through THE GROUND!
A few Blob sucked (to remove the ectoplasm) bits of treasure later? And he leaves a pawn shop with local currency. Thank YOU shady pawn shop! Ask him no questions, he'll tell you not lies. Enjoy Pariah's gold.
He does tourist things. Buy foods he's never tried, wanders around. Sees what's needed. Noticed a lot of people struggle with some aspect of the ecto-mutations brought on by the extreme Limnality. Need accessibility aids.
.....well, he IS a Fenton. His parents would disown him on the SPOT if he left with out at least TRYING to help. So he tracks down one the local ghosts. He'll need a guide or two.
He? VASTLY underestimates how desperate a sea of Obsession Starved Hero and Vigilante Ghosts will act, the INSTANT, they realize not only someone can see them... but it's? Their "Boss"? They aren't sure HOW they know that. But they DO. It's THE Boss. Here to help them! Asking for HELP ™ from THEM!
Yes
YES THEY CAN DO THAT
He gets swarmed. Hundreds of ghosts fighting over each other. Shouting. Turning on each other like rabid animals. All worn down and ragged by their Obssesion starvation. He's forced to shout over them.
And? Holy shit, these are only the ones from THIS CITY, too.
Thank Zone, again, he's no longer 14. That he has friends who are Rulers ™ that taught him HOW to Rule. To delegate. Pretend he TOTALLY knows what he's doing. That every action is on purpose.
It takes less then two hours, with all the experienced Unground Heros help, to make himself a Real Boy and buy a building. Put himself into the correct databases. He officially has licenses for things he's never studied. Is a tax paying citizen. Even belongs to several local clubs.
Over the next few days? He sets up his new... oi! Quickdraw! What're they called again? Right. "Lifestyle Support Company" which? Is a dumb name. But, Fenton Works is Fenton Works. Somehow he always kinda knew he'd be inherenting. It's in a cruddy part of town and the prices are cheap as he can safely get um.
He already had two customers, even though half the building isn't even fully set up. Which? I mean... he gets it. Poor guy. Knives for hands. Sharp ones too. The other guy's Obsession made him emotionally react to colors and like three different ones were ruining his life. So, hand Prosthetics controllable by knives and color filtering wrap around glasses.
Took him a lunch break or two.
Changed THEIR lives.
Suddenly his shop is packed. Schedule screaming for relief. And the ghosts? Getting more tangible by the day. See, his work shop? Ecto proofed. Let's him relax. But it ALSO let's him radiate fresh, clean, Ecto out into the air. And as King? With a direct line to The Zone? He puts out a lot.
There start to become Sightings.
People who SWEAR they saw long dead Heros out of the corner of their eyes. Dead vigilantes. That was who through that bottle. Who tripped that thug at just the right moment. Who unlocked the door. The SWEAR. They aren't crazy!
And... at first? Brushed off. Stress does a lot of crazy thing to a person, ma'am. But? How do you brush off, making eye contact with your dead best friend? Your old mentor on the other roof? That vigilante, who you WATCHED bleed out? Can you brush them off... when a vigilante from the dawn of quirks, punches some two bit villian on live television? Calls the Heros on the scene gloryhounds? Goverment dogs?
Runs from the cops and vanishes into thin air?
When this shit KEEPS HAPPENING?
Is spreading?
Are... are you supposed to arrest them for illegal vigilantism? How? They're THE proto-Heros! You don't want your name tied to that! The HPSC is furious. The goverment is uneasy. There are like... 6 dudes and a lady, openly stalking some kid in UA. Trying to mentor him. He looks moments away from a nervous breakdown.
Us too, kid. Us too.
All? While Danny? Is just sitting in his lil shop. Tinkering. Not HIS problem. Gotta let the ghosts here get it out of their system. Get their Obsession's full. Then it's all aboard the Zone Train. He's just here to make sure no one does anything "Too Crazy".
What's HIS definition of "too crazy"?
Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy~☆
@hdgnj @lolottes @nerdpoe @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn
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Male Yautja trying out a period cramp simulator with his ooman mate
Reader is AFAB but only gender neutral prounons are used. In this reader is someone who currently suffers horrible cramps or has in the past.
Warnings: cursing, period pain simulated
Minors Don't Interact!
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The both of you had gone into market to stock up on somethings your mate couldn't go out and hunt like cleaning supplies and a new pan seeing as you mate had accidentally broken the last one, though you suspected he had been playing with it and was embarrassed that he had broken it... again.
Looking around you smiled seeing a booth selling little knick knacks and trinkets. Nothing really caught your eyes until you noticed a small crowd all watching someone in a chair seemingly in pain as they all looked on in amusement. Raising your brow you watched confused on what wad going on and why they found it so entertaining to watch. Your mate seemed interested too as he started walking over wanting to know what was going on too. With quick steps you struggled to keep up with his long strides, damn him for being so tall.
Approaching the crowd it didn't take you long to find out what was going on. It was a period cramp simulator that the public could try out. People of course were using it to show off how much pain they could endure. It made you chuckle that this was being made into a test of strength because of course. The guy in the chair tapped out quickly after getting to the eighth setting. A few people layed at him and patted his shoulder, you assumed they were friends of his. The person running the simulator, a mass of squirming tentacles looked to you and trilled at the sight of a human. "Come come! Try it out show how a quoman deals which such crippling pain!" They squealed gesturing for you to come up to the chairs thst were set up. This got the crowds attention, they wanted to see how well a human could handle it.
This attention on you from the crowd caused your mate to let out a possessive growl as he put a arm in front of you. He didn't like strangers looking at his mate and he definitely didn't want someone causing his mate pain. "No no it's fine love." You said putting your hand on his outstretched arm. "Let's try it together." You suggested giving him a warm smile, if the two of you hadn't been in public that smile would have made him purr. He had mixed feelings he wanted to show off to his mate but he didn't want his mate in pain. The cheering crowd had little to no effect on him, he didn't care about them, only you. "I can handle it love and if I can't I will just tap out. It's ok." You reassured going on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. He almost slipped up and let out a purr feeling your kiss. Oh how he adored your kisses, he couldn't say no to them. Slowly he nodded his head and walked up to the chairs with you.
His chair groaned at the weight of his body when he sat down. Yours didn't make a single sound. He didn't hide his distan seeing the tentacled alien put the pads onto your stomach, he hated seeing someone touch his mate. You didn't mind but you weren't a fan of how cold they were. Next was your mates turn to get the sticky pads put on his stomach. This was terrifying for the slimy alien to do, they rushed the job wanting to make a little distace from the glaring yautja. Once everything was set up they moved away and gave the both of you a warning before turning the dial to the first setting.
Neither of you had much of a reaction from it. Your mate hardly even felt it and you shown no response to it. You only looked to your mate with a smile before looking back to the operator nodding when the asked if you were reay for the next level.
Still not much of a response from the two of you. It felt like a walk in the park to you. "Heh wish my cramps were this light." You joked laughing softly. You mate raised a brow hearing that. He was curious to know just how bad your cramps were, they couldn't be that bad right?
The third setting he finally started feeling somthing but it was well bellow his pain level. Looking to you he noted that you were still smiling happyily feeling rather giddy at this experience. The crowd were a little horrified and absolutely amazed to see you smiling durning this. Usally people weren't this happy to be in pain.
Fourth setting made your mate a little uncomfortable. Just enough for him to shift lightly in his seat. Still you were just smiling giggling softly seeing your mate shifting. "You ok love? You can tap out if you need." You teased boiling his blood. This was a challenge now, he wanted no he needed to get to a higher seating than you.
His stomach tensed at the fith setting. It was a pain he could handle but if he had to deal with it for a week every couple of weaks it would have ade him pretty grumpy he knew that for sure. Glancing to you he was surprised to see you just sitting there lazily as you smiled as of it was nothing. "I couldn't get past that setting. How do humans do it?" Someone from the crowd whispered to another. You didn't hear it but your mate sure did.
Six? Oh boy ow. Still your mate wasn't backing down nd neither was you. His manbles flared into a smirk seeing you wince for a momemt. He hoped you were about to tap out when you opened your mouth but was taken back hearing you laugh. "This feels like one of my lighter days." You said with an amused tone gaining a few shocked gasped from the crowd.
You finally shifted at seven before getting comfortable again after adjusting. "Still not as bad as it get's." You said taking it in stride. The person who had gone before you was in absolutely shock and horror that not only did a human beat him but did it like a champ. Your mate was irritated he still hadn't bested you but was honestly admiring how well you handling the pain. He was gripping the arm rest so hard it splintered in his hand.
He nearly tapped out at eight holy fuck it hurt so bad. Looking to you his eyes bulged seeing that you were only lightly resting your hand on your stomach. "You ok honey?" You asked letting out a shaky breath. Fuck, he was so attracted to you. Look at you hardly reacting to the pain he was struggling with. His little ooman was so strong and he some how was falling even more in love with you than he was before.
Once at nine he was hunched over holding his stomach tight. "D-do you want to tap out?" The operator asked him gaining a loud growl in return. His dreads surrounded his head like a current. He tried glancing to you but he didn't have the strength to pull his arms away to move them out of his sight. You were simply holding your stomach with a frown as you slowly breathed in and out. The crowd murmuring to each other watching in quiet shock and amazement.
He couldn't, he couldn't anymore he had to tap out at ten he couldn't it was too much. Letting out a pained roar he ripped the pads off his stomach and looked to you. Just sitting there focused on your breathing with knitted brows and a frown. "To much for you?" You asked clenching a arm on your stomach as you gripped the arm rest. The crowd cheered astonished that you made it to ten. Quickly the operator turned it off and took the pads off you.
"It must be broken no way a ooman could do that!" Shrieked the male who had gone before you stomped up to the front of the crowd gaining a growl from the very grumpy and possesive mate of yours. "Let me try the one the ooman used!" He demanded. Shrugging the operator put the pad on him and turned it on. "No to the ten! If the ooman can do it so can I!" He stomped his foot acting like a toddler throwing a fit. "You asked for it." The operator warned before setting it to the tenth setting. Immediately he was on the ground walling as loud as his lungs would let him. This caused the crowd to roar with laughter as the operator quickly turn it off. Stand up the male waddled away holding his stomach greatly embarrassed by the scene he had caused.
Your mate was absolutely delighted by this. His mate was so strong. Moving closer to you he wrapped his arms around your waist whispering praises to you. He bought you so many gifts before the two of you finally went home. The whole time he was praising you on your strength. Definitely looks at you in a new light. Who knew you delt with that much pain so often. He understands so much better now why you snap so much or were unable to walk some days. More worried about you now any time you have cramps, he's gone through the pain and now he knows how you feel, he feels so bad you had to keep doing dealing with it unable to just turn it off. Any time you had cramps he was cooing and pampering you as much as you let him.
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mochiwrites · 1 month
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“G!” Scar grins as he sees the other approaching his train. He jumps down the ladder, landing with wobbly feet as he makes contact with the ground. “Just the birdie I was looking for!”
Grian lifts a brow, “Oh? What a coincidence. I was looking for you as well.” His wings flutter and twitch in response, folding neatly against his back. “Got any diamonds to spare?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve run out of diamonds again,” Scar tuts as he shakes his head in disapproval. Grian grimaces in answer, earning a disappointed sigh from the zoo keeper. “For shame, sir!”
“Just be happy I’m not skimming from the top of Ore Mountain again.” Grian squints at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I borrow a few or what?”
Scar makes a show of thinking about it, dramatizing his hum and tapping his chin. “You happen to have amayzin’ timing, considering I had something to give you.”
“Oh?” Grian tilts his head, looking at the other with curiosity. “Do I get the diamonds too?”
“Oh yes, of course, of course!” Scar joyfully nods, his warm smile not doing a single thing to cover up his salesman voice (as Grian has so lovingly dubbed it). “This would be an exchange of goods, after all! It’s only fair you’re compensated for your time!”
Grian stares at him for a second, eyes just shy of a squint. He doesn’t think there’s really an exchange going on, considering he’s not giving Scar anything in return; besides his presence, that is. He could point out to Scar that this isn’t an equal trade (barely a trade at all, really), but where would the fun in that be? He kind of wants to see where Scar is going with this.
Plus if he really feels bad about whatever this is, Grian can always find some way to repay Scar later.
Wings fluttering against his back, he shrugs. “Okay.”
“Great!” Scar beams at him, clapping his hands together. “Alright, I need you to stay perfectly still, no twitching a single feather, mister! Oh, and close your eyes too!” he directs the avian, earning an odd look from Grian.
“O…kay..?” Doing as told, Grian closes his eyes, curious. It’s definitely some surprise Scar has for him. But what is it? And why? He hasn’t missed any birthdays or anniversaries, has he? Maybe he can take a little peek… Scar never said anything about keeping his Watcher Eyes closed.
As if reading his thoughts, he hears Scar exclaim, “Yes that includes your funky magic eyeballs too, you pesky bird!”
Drat.
Grian sighs, resolving himself to the agony of waiting patiently. How horrible. Scar should feel terrible for making him wait like this. The build up is killing him! He’s eager with anticipation!
His breath stills as he feels Scar’s presence get closer to him. Grian can feel the warmth of his exhales as he releases them, all gentle and soft. Scar makes a few concentrated noises, and Grian can imagine the way his tongue pokes out from his mouth just slightly. He waits before feeling something being carefully set on his head, gentle palms combing through his hair. The feeling is followed by soft lips against his nose, as well as a little laugh as he scrunches his face.
“Okay, now open your eyes!”
Grian squints against the sunlight as his eyes open again, having to blink a few times before he looks at Scar in front of him. It takes him a second to notice anything different, setting a hand on top of his hair as he looks at the zoo keeper. He feels soft petals under his fingers, and finds that Scar has a crown made of sunflowers nestled in his hair. “Flower crowns?” he asks, confused.
“I made us matching ones!” Scar exclaims, his smile growing impossibly larger. “See I got the idea from Pearl after talking with her about doing a gift shop for the zoo—because you can’t have a zoo and no gift shop, that’s criminal!— and then bayum, it hit me! I’ll sell flower crowns as one of the items since I’ve got sniffers!” He gestures with his hands as he speaks, and Grian is captured by every word from the brilliant man. “I don’t even have a single enclosure of the zoo done yet but oh Grian I got so inspired, I had to do something with the idea!”
Grian can’t help his fond look as he sets a hand on his hip. “So you made some flower crowns?”
Scar eagerly nods, “Yup! I made them with you in mind so… who better to share the first try with than my pretty bird?”
The feathers on Grian’s wings fluff up at that. “You’ve got to be the biggest sap I know,” he sighs, although he finds the gesture incredibly sweet. “Though I have to ask, how is this an exchange? I’m not giving you anything.”
“Sure you are,” Scar argues, turning to set down his ender chest. “I get customer feedback and a free excuse to see you smile!” He looks at Grian, pleased, before ducking down to dig into his ender chest.
Grian decides right then and there that he’s going to kiss this man silly. Then he’s going to properly repay him.
(And if Grian leaves him a small arrangement of flowers on top of the shulker box of sniffer eggs? Well. Scar knows exactly who they’re from.)
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terrifiedlimechime · 29 days
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RELATIVITY FALLS!
basically: gravity falls but the stan twins are kids and mabel and dipper are the adults in the plot of gravity falls
as well as that, I wanted to switch the villians. Bill is human and takes the place of gideon, and instead of obsessing over mabel he pursues ford (he's twelve as well lol. BILLFORD FOREVER!!!)
whereas gideon takes the place of bill, a chaos god (maybe i'll make him the shape of the star on his telepathy tent instead of a triangle, or I might tweak his human design a bit, idrk) who's obsessed with mabel.
people always put dipper in the place of ford (in the portal) bc he's a nerd, but to suit the switch of villans, mabel is getting sucked into the multiverse!
I like to think she got lulled into a false sense of security with gideon like in the show in the same way ford was with bill, but with fashion instead of science. (like when their still friends w lil gid and gideon brings her to get her nails n stuff done)
so in my au mabel is very into fashion the same way ford is into science, a prodigy with a insane talent for knitting, sowing, design, the whole shabang
while dipper is similar to the usual show, nerdy sci-fi obsessed wise guy but nothing too crazy
but together mabel and dipper solved mysteries in california together and someday dream of becoming "the mystery twins" and searching (in parallel to the stans) on a hot air balloon/ plane/ something sky related
but mabel gets offered a place in a big league fashion school, and they're going to come and see her project for the school fashion fair
dipper (like stan) is disgruntled by the dress interrupting their dreams and future together (parallel to dipper and mabel vs to the show. kind of)  and puts his hands on the dress angrily without thinking, staining the dress with his sweaty palms (like how stan is in the show, and how ford described him in journal three: "an abnormally sweaty 12 year old....perhaps he takes after stanley")
when the fashion gurus or whatever show up to see mabels design, they see the prints and dimiss her, ruining her chance at getting into her dream school. seeing the sweaty hand marks, thinks immediately of her brother, confronts him, the same as the scene in a tale of two stans essentially
d: "i...mabel, maybe this isnt all bad...at least we can go...be the mystery twins?"
m: "how could you say that?! why would I want to do anything with the person who sabotaged my future!"
so where does mabel go to college? you (probably) guessed it...backupsmore!
she begins a degree...yadayada, smart people stuff, clever references to the original show, blah blah blah, goes to college with candy and grenda (they take the place of mcgucket)
annnnd now a scene I over thought way too much) all her life, mabel had been teased for her crooked teeth, her messy hair, her stickers and glitter everywhere...etc, and she grew fascinated with beauty in imperfection, the whole maximalism, out of the ordinary/norms of fashion (the ford deciding to study abnormalities bc of his six fingers scenece is so important to me for no reason)
she grew curious of a certain place where the impossible seemed possible...
gravity falls! (how surprising)
and what, my dear reader, was our main man dipper up to?
well, much like stan, he struck gold in sales. or...selling by yourself anyway, as he'd been trying to selling his scifi abnormality comics, board games, fact books/ something like that bro. he was smart-ish, giving lectures ab science-y stuff in different colleges, not happy at all and js about providing for himself. he misses mabel...alot.
over with mabel, she's experimenting with the weirdness of gravity falls, enjoying it all with her friend, gideon! (spoiler alert: he sucks)
but at the end of the day...what is she waiting for? she can't just...be good....she has to remembered! to be put down history as...one of the greatest designers of all time! heck...what is she even working for if not to be put down in history? what has she studied for? she has to round of her studies with a bang!
luckily gideon has a few ideas...
g: you see...what if...you built a portal to another dimension? has any designer ever done that before? sent their models and crew to another universe? think...how you'd go down...the most revolutionary name in fashion! you'd be leading fashion AND science!"
(tw: this is a trick on gideons part lol)
mabel enlists the help of candy and grenda, blablabla whatever...mcgucket/ford situation all over again, someone sees the nightmare realm, traumatised forever, yadayada, mabel goes insane bc gideon is "less than nice..." (can you tell I'm getting lazy lmao)
dipper is just ab scraping by, making money by doing lectures and the like, hopping state each time he loses a job with a new name so he can work for another prestigious college w out the track record and trying to publish his scifi silly novel thingy when he gets a post card through the door of his motel:
°•.GRAVITY FALLS.•°
please come, -mabel
dipper makes his way to gravity falls, where mabel is immediately suspicious of him, checking his eyes to see if he's possessed, barbed grappling hook ready to shoot and looking very much like a crazed scientist rather then a fashion designer, and perhaps that's what she's become, moulded under gideons hand
she interrogates him, similarly to how ford interrogated stan:
m: *grappling hook ready to shoot* "HEY! WHO ARE YOU? HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?-"
d: "weird way to say welcome in, mabel"
hurring him in, she checks his eyes, lalalalala...mabel promptly shows him the third journal, branded with a shooting star.
m: "it's.. I don't know enough about science...me and candy, grenda, we started, i've put my heart and soul into these, dipper, but he needs them, and he can't have them, never...if he does..."
d: "god, mabel, I always knew you were crazy, but this is a whole new level. I thought you came here for fashion?"
blabla, backstory explanation to eachother (im this 🤏 close to giving up) when mabel pops the big question
m: "remember our plans...the mystery twins, adventuring in the skies, on a plane?"
dipper is really excited, this is the moment, all this science stuff, it was preparation for-
m: "get on a plane, fly as FAR away from here as possible, to the ends of the earth, and hide the journal-"
d: "wait...that's IT? I finally see you for the first time in YEARS and the first thing you want me to do is get as far away from you as possible?"
m: "listen-"
d: "no, YOU LISTEN. im excited to see my sister after a decade and you want me out of your sight? im just about scraping by while you're living it up in your fancy house in the woods doing fashion-glam shit! you think you've got it bad? i've got a MULLET, mabel! im trying my best to survive while you're all cushy in the woods-"
m: "you don't know what I've been through!-"
d: "what YOU'VE been through? I've lost my job in SEVERAL different states, while you're selfishly hoarding your college money-"
m: "ME? SELFISH? how could you say that after costing me my DREAM SCHOOL?
a bit more squabbling, basically the scene in a tale of two stans. in this au dipper isn't born with his big dipper mark on his forehead, rather he gets it burned onto his forehead the way stan gets his tattoo, mabel pauses, "im so sorry dipper-" gets pushed, the portal starts turning on, dipper pushes her away.
d: "tch, "mystery twins." how could I be so stupid? here's a simple mystery; why did mabel's brother travel four hours to roadkill oregon for her? because he thought his sister CARED for him. wanted to see him, even. possibly because he missed her. but dont worry, it wont happen again. some sister you turned out to be."
he does the whole push into the portal, ahhh mabel come back, oh no what have i done thingy. he immediately tries to opperate it, fails, blablabla. when he realises shes gone and not coming back, he screams, for a minute, half an hour, an hour, he doesn't know, he just cant do anything else.
doesn't sleep. for a long time. he doesn't really move off the couch, actually. he eats so he doesn't faint. or sleep. he doesn't go anywhere so he doesn't have to fix himself up or wash, because he feels he doesn't deserve the luxury of self care or nice food or comfort or rest. but eventually the food runs out and he decides he can't die without bringing back his sister.
at the shop, it's the same scene as with stan, "oooh smart science-y fashion person, do u give tours?" he has no money so he has to, it's shit at first but improves over time and so the mystery shack is born.
as much as dipper always loved the supernatural, he decides that he doesn't want another run in with the portal/ paranormal accident so all the attractions are fake. dipper is just as stressed and unhappy as before, but the tight clockwork of his life keeps him together. make money with the shack, save mabel. that's all that's keeping him here.
until the stan twins show up!
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homunculus-argument · 3 months
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A story of how this one guy's dog almost got killed by a whistling weiner:
The difference between a great story and mediocre one is all about presentation. Today I was reminded of the time when I was around 7-8 years old, and me and a handful of my cousins were at our grandparents' house when one of grandpa's hunting buddies came to visit. Drinking his coffee with a flock of curious small kids cautiously staring at him, this guy decided to amuse himself by telling us a story of the time his dog almost got killed by a sausage. A whistling sausage.
Knowing the local peoples' sense of humour, I figured that this guy is just doing a bit, even when he swore that this story is completely true. And as we giggled and kept insisting that he's talking fairytales, he reassured us again, it was true, grandpa was there. And we looked at our grandfater who was smiling, clearly seeing where this is going, and nodded very slowly. And our grandfather wasn't the type of a guy to tell stories, he rarely said three words in a row and certainly didn't waste them on nonsense. And he, an honest man, had just verified that he was there to witness this.
They had been on a hunting trip, I think it was 5 men altogether, with their dogs. It was that time of the year when people argue whether it's very late autumn or very early winter. Stinging cold, nonetheless. Taking a break before heading home, the hunters made a fire at a spot next to a lake, observing that the lake already had a thin crust of ice over it. If it wasn't already winter, it sure would be soon.
Now this is where the sausage comes in. Innocuously in the same package as its peers, indistinguishable from the others. Warming up by the fire, with their dogs gathered around them - sitting, sleeping, or begging, each according to their own nature - the men cooked their sausages, drinking coffee and talking jovially amongst themselves about whatever hunters do on pauses like that. The man telling the story had his best dog with him, he mentioned her by name, and at the time, she was still quite young but definitely promising, and was sleeping curled up beside his feet.
And then, the sausage he was cooking whistled. The way that they sometimes do as you heat them up on a fire, but somehow the whistling of this one was abnormally loud and high-pitched, and comically long, going
PWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
This scared the shit out of this guy's dog. Born and bred to chase moose and corner bears, and accustomed to the sounds of gunfire, this dog was startled fuckless by the sound of this whistling weiner. Snapping from dead sleep to her feet, she bolted. To the lake. And right through the ice.
At this point I would like to stress that while everyone who loves their dogs would go to great lengths to save them, these hunting dogs are a treasure to their hunters. I don't know what a good dog would even cost if you could convince a hunter to sell one, but my grandfather's best dog had a grander funeral than my father did. They are a big deal. So it was rescue mission time.
The guy telling the story went into much greater detail about what a huge ordeal getting that bitch out of the ice was than I will here, but it was certainly a hassle. By the time the dog was out of the water, two men were soaked to their waists with icy water and the dog was wet all the way through. Two of their cars were started and kept idling with full heat blasting to warm and dry the two men and one dog while the other three men tried their best to thaw and dry the men's pants, laughing about how the guys would even start explaining their wives why they had to drive home literally ass naked.
And to express her gratitude for being saved from a certain and icy death, the hunting dog in question pissed on a car seat.
And that was the story of how this guy's dog was almost killed by a whistling weiner.
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harrietvane · 4 months
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So, in Busman’s Homeymoon, Lord Peter buys Harriet Vane a mink cloak worth 950 pounds (according to the Dowager Duchess’ journal entry), but he buys Tallboys for “only” 650 pounds.
Even bearing in mind that real estate really did used to be cheaper, do you understand how that is possible? Or how to find out more about relative purchasing power? I used an online calculator website which gave me some figures, but it still seems insane that one could buy an entire Elizabethan farmhouse for 2/3 the price of a garment! Very curious to learn from others who understand this better than I do.
Ah, I see my esteemed colleague @oldshrewsburyian has also had some interesting thoughts on this, so I'll link that here as well before I begin.
So, it's a legitmate question, and there's no catch-all simple answer (in the gotcha sense of 'why didn't i know that bit of cultural Truth'), but there are mitigating factors that take it from a ridiculous price comparison, to merely outlandish. Even taking into account that the coat is quoted in guineas, not pounds, and that PW says the bank valued Talboys at £800 via a mortgage (the paid price was a discount, for paying in cash quickly, which is Plot Relevant), it gets us to roughly the same place, value-wise. Or shall we say PRICE-wise, rather than value, as I'll get into below. There's several factors at play here - they mainly relate to class, and spending power:
-The house is Not That Great, in terms of the kind of property that PW would usually be buying. I mean it is still a large-ish house, big enough to have 2 adults and small children in, but it's not what would be on his radar normally. The only reason they know about it, it that it's near a place where HARRIET grew up as a child. It's not getting any high marks in particular Beauty, Convenience, or Quality - the main reason HV's drawn to it is sentiment, rather than anything else. They both know that they will have to significantly add to it, and alter it, in order for it to be a comfortable home. That would usually be out-of-budget for someone in Harriet's position, who would expect to buy something that meets her needs 'as-is'. Most people looking at buying that house would be Harriets not Peters, so it might be a tough sell.
-The house has no power, and limited plumbing: There's dark references to DRAINS by the dowager duchess, it's entirely possible that this house has no modern plumbing at all - they make the comparison that the huge palace the Wimseys grew up in wasn't plumbed until recently, but then again they do have about 800 servants, whereas Talboys is just a regular house: they will have Bunter alone (at first), with an assist from Mrs Ruddle. There's mention of "a cistern" with some basic valves, but the scullery is mentioned as having a copper, from which hot water is "scooped into a large bath-can" - a copper being, simply, a large metal basin over a fire, in effect. No running hot water, maybe no flushable loos - it's a factor. They also talk specifially about having to electrify Talboys themselves - it's candles and lamps until then. It's fancy camping. By the mid-1930s, a lot of middle-class buyers would expect a little more convenience in both water and wiring, unless they had significant support staff, which Talboys would not be expected to house.
-There's probably no farm! It's a farm house - not a wider land purchase. People like PW's brother the Duke are wealthy primarily because they own land, not because of the big palace they have (which eats money, rather than generates it). The land is what gives them spending power, because other people are paying them rent to live on it, farm on it, or both. PW's own personal 'younger sibling' wealth is also mentioned somewhere to be primarily in real estate (assumed to be in London) - sad to say: he's a landlord, and that's why he's rich. Talboys, on the other hand, as a purchase, would not, in almost any way, be expected to generate revenue through either farming, agriculture, or charging rent. Until they invent house flipping in 80 years, or until the motorway goes through in 40 years, there's not much expectation that Talboys would increase all that much in value.
-Lastly, there's a massive disparity in what The Market Will Bear when we compare a basic residence vs a luxury item (like a mink coat) in the mid-1930s. This is not particular to that time, though. Like any first-year economics student will tell you, the price of something is not it's intrinsic value, it's what someone is WILLING to pay for it. If someone is willing to pay such a price, that's the price it will be. So, we're not comapring Objects, we're comparing Buyers: the the main purchasers of a slightly run-down farmhouse located nowhere special are Harriets, and main purchasers of mink coats are Peters. Talboys is priced for Harriets. The mink coat is priced for Peters.
Compare for example, a contemporary parallel: the Hermes Birkin bag. It's a leather handbag with a starting retail price of about USD 11,400. Just for the bag. Then, you have fancier versions of the fancy bag, eg wikipedia tells me one version sold at auction for USD 380,000 in Hong Kong in 2017. Now, the Harriets of today are not buying a Hermes Birkin handbag, but they are probably trying to buy slightly run-down houses outside urban centers for (one hopes) slightly less than 380k. The Wimseys of the worlds are clearly buying Birkin bags. In that way, it's actually pretty easy to get to a place where Person A might buy a single luxury item for X pounds, and Person B might buy a whole residence for X pounds, and neither feel like they'd done something insane. The key here is in a Wimsey/Vane marriage, they run up against this concept immediately, and repeatedly.
There's a good reason the first epistolary section of the novel is almost entirely taken up with money chat - the ring, the purchase of shirts from Burlington Arcade, the marriage settlement, the gift from the bride to the groom, the mink coat, the bitchy exchange between Helen and Harriet about HV being allowed "six free copies of her book" to distribute. These people come from 2 fundamentally different experiences of the world. They might have gotten engaged using the word 'Magistra', specifically to emphasise their fundamental equality (in the context of learning and the mind, to begin with), but it can't be denied: there's gaps that need to be bridged. They both know parts of their married life will be spent in attempting to do that, hopefully to their mutual satisfaction. Mention of a mink coat for 950 guineas is a nice, neat shorthand for illustrating what's still at play between them here.
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la2yn0va · 1 month
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Apathy Bias
CW: None, unless apathy is a trigger for ya… wait I lied, slight religious/cult topics
Plot: Reader is apathetic towards everything and one, but shows emotions towards others who’re his favorites.
Characters: Herta’s Spacestation, Belabog, Xianzhou Alliance, Penacony.
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———
Everyone always knew you were.. emotionally detached. But your dear acolytes still craved your attention. Your cold and narrow eyes accidentally glaring down at everyone as you play the game, yet there’s some characters whom gain your softer gaze.
Everyone was curious. Why did your facial muscles seem more relaxed? What was it about these characters that made you more calm? They knew the answer, however, jealousy kept them from admitting it.
They simply couldn’t believe it. GOD having favorites? Impossible! Even if that were the case, what made them so special!? Was it their playstyle? Their looks!? Their backstory!!? PERSONALITY!!!? Did those characters simply pray more?
They tried every excuse in the book, perhaps those characters somehow drugged you? Or perhaps they simply did more damage?! Or maybe you just like the path they follow!! But, all the excuses disappeared once they managed to summon you.
While you showed everyone the same amount of neutrality and respect, your… favorites, got special attention. And who were your favorites? Well…. (I don’t know yall’s favorites so imma just use mine)
Herta’s Spacestation — Ruan Mei:
This was the least surprising for all your acolytes. After all both of you were smart, attractive, and emotionally detached. You showed interest in her creations and liked to use her in all your teams.
Ruan Mei was pretty surprised. Yes she craved your attention and DNA, but she always believed you would’ve been disgusted with her. How morally ambiguous she was, how much of an outcast she was in the genius society also didn’t help.
So to see your eyes become gentle whenever she’s mentioned or on the screen made her feel happiness—hell, that was selling it short, she was over the fucking cosmos, she was on cloud 9 24/7, she felt love like she never felt before.
Ruan Mei, once you descend, always provides you with sweet and desserts she personally makes. She also makes one of those ‘cat pillows’ for you that has a mixture of her and your DNA. Gifting it to you as a present.
Belabog — Luka:
Pretty surprising, considering how introverted you were/seemed to them. They mearly chalked it up to you respecting his fighting spirit, until you descend.
Luka felt his heart beat faster. He always thought you’d like Seele or Bronya more considering they were in the main story quest! He’s definitely a bragging little shit about it, but only to Seele, who’s second place in your favorites in belabog.
Luka always fights to his fullest potential, believing it to be a sin if he doesn’t fight at his best for your entertainment. He gets completely ashamed of himself when he lost to Svarog, he tried his fucking damnest but still lost.
When he woke up from his coma, he felt completely embarrassed, he felt like a failure. He immediately tried to go back and fight Svarog again, it took Natasha, Oleg, the trailblazer, and Seele to stop him.
Ultimately, he stopped when he heard your voice, telling him to just ‘take the L and train harder. There’s always next time’
Luka prays more and trains infront of your statue, making sure to put on a show for you. He doesn’t want you to see him as unworthy after losing to Svarog.
Xianzhou Alliance — Feixiao (I know, your shocked)
At first, your favorite was Jing yuan. After all he fought with a fucking Susanoo. Until feixiao came out. You fell in love with her INSTANTLY. The hair, the eyes, the drip, the smile, the weapon, everything about her was fucking awesome.
Jing yuan had never known betrayal or pain in his entire life. He felt like rain of arrows constantly pierced his already damaged heart. But no one cares about him anymore, let’s talk about feixiao.
She took this as the ultimate win against all the generals. The youngest general who also has the supreme one’s favor. She also uses you and your favoritism to dodge paperwork.
When you decide, feixiao is quick to become your bodyguard of the xianzhou. She also picks you up bridal style or gives you piggy back rides for free… well, not really, she does tease you about it.
Feixiao will personally teach you how to fight if you want to learn. After all you get her out of doing paperwork and she’s your favorite acolyte in the xianzhou. It’s only fair right?
One day when she didn’t want to do paperwork, the most shocking yet loving gesture that ever happened to her in her life, slapped her in the face. You took her paperwork… and so it for her.
She would’ve proposed to you right then and there if she didn’t get stage fright/believed she was imagining it. Why would you torture yourself for her like this?!
When you were finished, she felt IMMENSELY guilty for abusing your favoritism the way she did. Your words after didn’t help quell her guilt “There. No more paperwork…! We can.. hangout now, right?”
From that moment fourth, feixiao never used your name to skip any paperwork. Also she tries to flirt with you, which goes over your head. Every. Time.
Penacony — No one.
“Eh… everyone here is just kinda average for me…”
The IPC — None
“I ain’t friends with the FUCKING FEDS!!” “These dicks aren’t villains, they’re just assholes! 700 years ago they promised to help belabog and they never did! They’re like the friend that promised to pay you back your 20 bucks and never does!” “I would rather defend Griffith then hang around these waste of human organs”
-The End-
I was gonna do more but I started getting tired/bored/stressed due to the impending doom that is school. Also, I’m so bored… I wanna do a QnA.
Ask questions IN THE COMMENTS OF THIS POST!! If you ask a question in the request box, I’m slapping you diagonally.
Deadline is… idk Saturday or Sunday
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silkythewriter · 8 months
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Vox and wukong with a cat demon reader!
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Warnings: might be a bit OOC! Haven’t written for Hazbin hotel in a while I apologize!
Fandom: Hazbin hotel and LMK
Author note:IM SO SORRY I DONT KNOW WHY TUMBLER GLITCHED OUT ON ME AND DELETED THE WHOLE THING(。•́︿•̀。) BUT TYSM FOR YOUR PATIENTS AND THANK YOU FOR THE HAZBIN HOTEL ASK!!!
Summary: Wukong and Vox with a cat demon reader! :D
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️
🝮☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆🝮
🝮☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆🝮
Vox
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In all honesty...he finds it adorable, now will he admit that is another question with a different answer..
I'm sure he's seen many upon many of cat demons in his years damned to hell, but you are different in a way he can't pin point. Maybe it's the way your tail flicks when you see him, or how your pupils grow big just at the sight of him. It's honestly a knock out for him
He finds himself curious on how your ears and tail feel. But he would never touch it unless you offer him first which he exeitedly bun-gurglingly agrees.
He's a man that's excellent at words and selling something to you. But when it comes time to actually show Affection it's...a bit rough to say the least.
He buys you special types of conditioner and shampoo for your fur, one of the finest brand might i add, which he hands to you. Simply stating "well if your gonna be seen around me of course you gotta look your best" not that he actually cares for you and wants you happy of course! He's an overlord he has a status to up hold!
Now when it comes to you actually doing cat like things he finds it very interesting and honestly adorable-
I mean look how can he not melt when your purring out words after landing on the soft couch in his office.
One time he petted the top of your head and you let out purr, when I tell you this man’s knees were weak I MEAN IT
he just has a special soft spot for you and the things you do. Like when you were over at his place about to crash on his bed but you just started kneading the soft blanket.
Look he’s a hater on the outside but a lover on the inside he has to keep a rough attitude in a place like hell. But when you guys are alone he’s doting on you more then an actual person with a cat. He just can’t help it
He loves cuddling with you at night, like the warmth you provide him is enough to make him short circuit . Hell is hot enough but your warmth is different kind of warmth, not just the overheating and overwhelming temperature of hell, but the homey feeling you get form a nice hug.
He especially loves when you wrap your tail around him or his like leg i don’t know something about it makes him lose his mind!
Although he dose have to admit finding you asleep in unexpected areas is something he doesn’t hate but doesn’t exactly like either. He quite literally has the best bed and sheets of hell just for you and you still decide to spreed out and take a nap on counter. Now that is something he will never understand
Overall though he loves you to the lower levels of he’ll and back <3
🝮☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆🝮
Wukong
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Oh boy… time for our favorite monkey boy phew alright…
First of all get ready for his lil cheeky self to go around and start scaring you
You know that old trend where cat owners would throw cucumbers at their cat? Yea that’s what he dose, not only that but 60% of the time it lands smack dab on your head like it seems intentional from how many times he’s smacked you by accident.
He honestly understands how sensitive ears and tails could be so he would never yank or pull on it as a joke. Trust me he gets and understands your pain very much.
His love language is grooming, so he’s happily sit for a good while just looking through your fur and picking out small particles or maybe small dirt specs. And he loves when you do the same! Honestly a very cute bonding moment he finds it relaxing!
I feel like cat demons are a bit rare to come by, (my guess don’t quote me on this) so he finds your quite cool to look at! Especially if you have some sort of pattern or rare fur color!. He asks you all sorts of questions please don’t mind him he’s honestly curious.
He purrs too so this man dos won’t discriminate when you do it, he honestly finds it adorable just like Vox!, but unlike Vox he doesn’t mind voicing it. Although he dose it too he loves teasing you for it, jokingly of course!
Please send this man your fur care cause lord knows he probably doesn’t own the right things to take care of his fur. He appreciates if you take a day off just to show him, also massaging some of the conditioner/shampoo in his scalp will make him purr and is greatly appreciated.
Honestly I feel like he’d get jealous of those who you also let touch your fur and other stuff. He won’t cop you on it! But he loves when it feels like something only he can do and you trust him with.
As kneading this man has A TONNN of blankets collected through the years of stealing or getting gifted it. So he has tons of blankets on his bed and if he sees you kneading them he’d probably let out a loud “Awe” before tackling you. He finds it adorable! What can he say?
He has good pulse control now then when he did in his younger years but still can you really expect him not to smoother you with affection from how absolutely adorable your being?!?? (≧◡≦) ♡
Please please PLEASE let this man intertwine tails with you or make like a heart shape out of your tail’s. He just finds it so comforting and adorable!
Overall have a cat demon S/O has to be the best for him, he just loves you! And he is very affectionate, it takes him a bit to show it but after a while he’s all over you! O(≧▽≦)O
🝮☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆🝮
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AHHHH TYSM FOR THE REQUEST IT WAS SO FUN PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN❤️❤️❤️❤️💘💘💘💘
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hellsgreatestbrainrot · 2 months
Text
Mafia Boss!Reader x Vees
Is this indulgence? Yes. Do I still want you to hear me out? Yes, please and thank you.
I'm thinking about someone who's gonna stand up to them and be ballsy as hell about it. I'm thinking about Mafia Boss!Reader possibly being the 4th Vee. I want the Vees to go gaga over Reader. I want them drooling and shaking from how much they want Reader to be on their team.
The possibilities are ENDLESS for PLOT.
How they met you?
I'm thinking about Reader owning several bars where they exchange drugs and angelic weapons in private booths. Maybe the Vees smell out the competition and see you in all your intimidating glory. They watch you command people and direct them which way to go with just a flick of a hand. They're curious.
Maybe you own a fighting ring? Meet Vox for promotional purposes. Meet Velvette for outfits for ring girls. Meet Valentino perhaps because he wants to hire some of your fighters for his porn studio.
Maybe you're a drug dealer too that specializes in new drugs that don't do much damage to the body and maybe even enhanced them in some way? Imagine Valentino wanting to get his hands on that and trying to make deals with you because he wants you on his line.
Weaponsmith?? Weapon's dealer?? Making custom weapons?? Offer protective services and bodyguard duties?? JUST WEAPONS.
Why do they want you and how would they feel about you?
I'm very sure that Valentino would drool over you. God the power you have? The intimidation? SO VERY SEXY FOR HIM.
Trust that he's gonna be the mafia wife to your mafia boss. I'm sure he's gonna be head over heels over the idea of Mafia Boss!Reader being his guard dog of sorts.
Velvette? The OUTFIT INSPOS ARE ENDLESS. She's gonna make so much content and sell the idea that she's with someone so fucking strong so you don't get any fucking ideas with her and get cute.
Plus, she's definitely gonna pull the "DO YOU KNOW WHO FUCK WE ARE" and the "DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING CLUE WHO I AM CONNECTED WITH"
Vox? He's gonna fucking like the pull you have and the fact that you have a lot of men that he can use to dispose of trash.
His twink ass is shaking for you because you're THE BOSS (bend him over and spank him when he's being a brat). You're this big name with people on your beck and call.
THE POWER YOU HAVE IS SO FUCKING HOT TO HIM BULLY HIM WITH IT STEP ON HIM
Will I write more? Probably :))
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evilminji · 1 year
Text
:T Hello there, Thought(tm) of the day...
I? Just remembered that Constantine's "Laughing Magician"(?) title is... f*ckin HEREDITARY?
Like?? As in The Constantine Meances have been out here, harrasing divinity and demons alike for GENERATIONS on behalf of a Good Time, the Lols, and probably Humanity if they can be arsed and you make a good case.
W... What chance would there even BE of at least like? HALF those f*ckers(conflicted but affectionate) NOT becoming Realms Ghosts? With the sh*t they're exposed too? With THEIR luck??
You think DEATH can trick them? Take them away for good? Take away the local Rat B@stard, Tricks Gods Just To See If He Can, Fate Is My Second Mistress and I Cuckold Glory On Your Mother's Bed, Constantine?
They run down main street, *ss in the breeze, wearing someone else's shirt and two shoes that don't match, not a stitch else, like run away lovers. Let Death TRY and catch them. Sorry, Luv, it's not them, it's definitely you.
..........I bet they're the wooooorst~~✨️
No joke, I bet they set up a whole *ss TOWN of Constantine.
Where the odds are in THEIR favor, gods fear to tread, and reality straight out stops working right. Like Diagonal Ally for B*stards, extended to a whole floating island. Everyone's related. It's Chaos. They can barely stand each other. Would sell each other for a toothpick.
Mess with ANY off them... and you can kiss your afterlife good bye.
They have NO neighbors because both no ones dumb enough to get NEAR them AND no one can stand to be around that many Constantines at once. The physical Manifestation of Fate wants to take the whole LOT of the handsy F*CKS to court for child support and a restraining order.
Somehow... they keep getting Earth Booze.
They SHOULDN'T have access. It's been anywhere from decade to centuries since they died. Millennium for a few. Howms't The F*CK, do they keep getting cheap gin and vodka? Bourbon and beer? Even the odd fruity cocktail for funnies.
Please... PLEASE! Tell the Zone at large, that their innate birthright powers STOPPED at Death. They... they are just REALLY good at smuggling right? Excellent con men?
Tell us they can't f*ckin PREDICT AND INFLUENCE Natural Portals!!!
*smug sipping noises from a large room full of Dead @ssholes*
Okay... They Won't Tell You~ 🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺 *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip*
Now! I hear you ask? Why are John's Terrible, Terrible, God Awful Ghostly Relatives relevant? Absurdly powerful as they are... they seem to take the afterlife as an extended "Ha! GET F*CKED, DEMONS WHO WANTED MY SOUL!" Vacation/Family get together.
Minded their business and expected everyone to mind THEIRS, or ELSE.
Didn't give two solitary SH*TS that Pariah woke from his little nappy-poo to cause a tantrum. After all, in their family? When DOESN'T some "great and terrible Power That Be" get itself in a snit? Meh... it's baby Johnny's turn to clean sh*t up. Best of luck to 'im~!
But THEN!
They must've been drinking... making out with their equally terrible and bamf trainwreck significant others... sitting around playing "who can cheat best at cards"... when? Huh.
Never seen the Fate and The Odds... STRANGLE like that.
Billions of billions of What-Ifs, Maybes, Could-bes, and more... suddenly YANKED towards a single spot. The allowance of Only One Outcome. Almost like what they can do, but... not, WRONG, per say...
Just... impossible.
There's NEVER.. JUST one way this plays out. You can control the big notes. The script. But the details and set dressing will always decide themselves.
NO ONE can just... Decide What Will Happen. And yet?
...............was....... was that Little Johnny? Has to be. Right? Where's his old man? Oi! Was that your Kid??! John's closest relatives are baffled. Nope. They can still feel him laying a beat down on some demon in Norway. So then? Who?
How?
Well mark them CURIOUS(tm).
They decide to actually get up. Put their various drinks and cards down. Put pants on. Somebody's done something... INTERESTING(TM) and they want to know what's up. So? Off they trot.
It's traumatizing for everyone who sees them. The Constantines have breached f*ckin B*stard Containment and are spilling into the Zone. On this! The DAY Pariah Waged A War! THEY JUST GOT RID OF HIM!
And Danny? His everything hurts. The Eyeballs are starting to come out of the woodwork and ARGUE about him like he's not even there. He's DANGEROUS blah blah blah. Give them the crown. Right now! Etc etc.
Somethings telling him not too.
It's... it's HIS isn't it? Has been for centuries and seconds. And... and... everyone one of him is King. There is only one of him. The Zone covers all the multiverse and all of the Hims that were and aren't here and helped and... and...! His head is starting to hurt.
But the more they try to push him to hand it over, the less he feels like unhanding the dang gaudy thing. No. His now. He'll use it as a DOOR stopper if he dang well feels like it! Stop yelling.
Then all these blonde ghosts saunter in... and all he can think is "F*ck. I think they noticed."
Huh?
@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites @bjurnberg @the-witchhunter @hdgnj
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naffeclipse · 2 months
Text
Desert Light
Cryptid Sightings/Signs of Life Crossover
Commission Info
My dear friend @jackofallrabbits commissioned me for a darling little crossover of Cryptid Sightings and their fic, Signs of Life, with @maudiemoods's permission, of course. If you haven't read Signs of Life, you really should and you can find it right here! I had so much fun writing both the cryptid hunter and the scientist interacting, and both monster boys are delightful here! I hope you enjoy <3
———
At nightfall, the desert is dipped in inky blues under a starry sky spilling over the entire expansion over your head. You forget how big the desert feels without trees or mountains to cut into its horizon as if the very heavens are staring down at you with twinkling eyes. The dry ground becomes darkness littered with muted sagebrush. The road is cracked and sunbleached, rocking your dark green truck and airstream. Along the lonely stretch of road, a convenience store with fluorescent lights cuts through emptiness like an oasis of gasoline, candy bars, and potato chips.
Moon hunches low in the passenger seat. Pale eyes gaze at you through the dimness within the truck's cabin. Patches along his nightcap catch on stray starlight, winking on the stitches you sewed by hand.
“It’s late,” he rasps in a low voice.
“I know, sweetie,” you sigh and rub your eyes while keeping one hand on the wheel. “We’re almost there.”
“You’re tired.” His hand strays across the seat to rest on your leg. His cool digits jolt you gently back to alertness.
“It’s only half an hour more,” you give ruefully. “Let’s stop here. I’ll grab a soda then we’ll be on our way.”
He grumbles, vibrating his animatronic vessel with displeasure. A word against caffeine is surely on his tongue, but the jostling from pulling the truck and airstream onto the cracked pavement underneath the almost neon-white light of the gas pumps cuts him short.
The desert hosts paranormal encounters ranging from the chupacabra to aliens. The latter is why you ventured here. Without F.E.I. providing you exact intel and evidence, it’s up to you to conduct your research and discover possible sightings but what you’ve unearthed so far has been solid.
This one in particular speaks of an alien. A towering but thin, long-limbed being spotted around a motel just as remote and lonely as this convenience store. You throw the truck in park and hop out. A lone car is parked alongside the building and another is parked further away, as if trying to hide away from the lights.
Soundlessly behind you, despite the bells tied around his wrists with ribbons, Moon appears like a metallic shadow. Hopefully, the convenience store attendant isn’t against animatronics in their store. He tilts his head for a moment towards the outermost vehicle, his pale optics narrowing before he follows after you.
If he sensed a heartbeat hiding in the darkness, he would have told you.
You pull open the door with a quiet jingle announcing your entrance. A small sign, old and worn, on the checkout counter promises the attendant will be back in a few. You deflate slightly. You had hoped to ask someone in this area about the sightings.
“There’s someone here,” Moon murmurs close to your ear like a breath from a ghost.
Quiet footsteps echo back beside the fridge section of drinks, concealed by shelves of beef jerky, peanut butter cookies, and chocolate bars. Curious, you strive forward. You might still have a chance to speak to the lone employee who may be restocking the cases of beer or soda, but when you round the corner with a cool presence at your back, you stop still.
A person straightens, clutching a few water bottles to their chest, their eyes immediately landing on you, framed in glasses. You look down to the hoodie they wear: dark fabric with a green alien face; a charming, stereotypical depiction of extraterrestrials. Do they sell those here?
“I like your hoodie.” You smile. “Do you work here?”
The person immediately fixes their glasses and beams. “Thank you. It’s a bit too warm for this climate but it’s cute. No, I don’t work here. Is that an animatronic with you?”
You blink but turn back to allow Moon more of an audience with the curious stranger. He regards them with a coolness but no malice. You give a slow nod.
“This is my friend, Moon.” 
The stranger steps closer, studying him with vim and vigor before adjusting the many water bottles in their arms. Underneath their arm, tucked into their armpit is a notebook. They lift a hand towards Moon.
“What model are you?” they ask, eager. “How long have you gone without maintenance? Your wires are exposed and your endoskeleton could use a polish.”
Moon stares. A slight twitch runs through his limbs. You step back between Moon and the stranger, your pulse jumping slightly at the spew of questions—many that have no good answers. Could they be familiar with where Eclipse found their half-burned, abandoned vessel?
You introduce yourself quickly, keeping Moon behind you and out of reach of the stranger. “What’s your name?”
They slowly lower their hand, disappointed. “Ah.” They’re silent for a moment, and you can see the gears working in their mind before decidedly saying, “You can call me Doc.”
That’s funny. Surely it must be a nickname though you have no qualms with a stranger giving you whatever moniker they please, but Moon’s hand falls to your shoulder. His digits curl slightly over your collarbone, as if in warning. Right.
“Alright. Doc,” you smile.
They smile back. “Is your animatronic—”
“I’m sorry,” you say, very apologetically but firmly, “but I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about happenings in this area.”
Doc grows still, their expression guarded. You catch their eyes flickering towards the door and then landing back on you.
“What are you referring to exactly?” they ask tentatively, almost nervously.
“There have been reports of unusual occurrences in this part of Nevada.” You wish you bought your book of cryptid information with you. If they’ve seen anything, you will need to write it down. Instead, you focus on slowly bringing them into your question. If you went around asking any person if they saw aliens right off the bat, no one would take you seriously. “Have you seen anything strange or simply unexplainable?”
“UFO sightings in Nevada are very common,” they say so bluntly, it causes you to blink. They set the water bottles down on a shelf occupied with chip bags and shift the notebook closer to their chest, holding it like a shield. “Did you know that Nevada has the highest rate of UFO sightings per capita in the U.S.?”
“I did know that,” you say, impressed that they know it as well. You lean closer in your curiosity. Do they believe in cryptids? “Have you researched such things before?”
They fix their glasses and lower their hand back to their book only to lift it again and fidget. 
“Recently I have,” they admit.
A coolness radiates behind you. In the corner of your vision, Moon tilts his head. The bell on the end of his nightcap falls over his shoulder. What doesn’t he like? Surely they can’t be a rulebreaker. Moon would have reacted much less pleasantly to such a person. 
They touch their glasses again, and the frames fall slightly askew on their face. “Have you heard anything about an alien?”
You brighten with the question. At last.
“Yes. That’s why I’m here,” you hold a hand to your chest, “to locate any confirmation or evidence about an alien sighting near a motel a little ways from here. Nothing has been reported as violent, but it’s most likely an incident will occur soon unless properly dealt with.”
Their hands furl and unfurl, anxiously touching their glasses, pushing them up the bridge of their nose, and shifting. Are they alright?
“Most of the time sightings of cryptids, including aliens, are just everyday objects seen from a weird angle,” they ramble slightly. 
You pause, watching them. Are they afraid to tell you what they saw? You’ve encountered poor, terrified people who fear even speaking a word of what they’ve experienced will mark them as unstable and insane. Even worse, it might somehow lure the presence that frightened them in the first place back.
“Yes, that’s true,” you admit, but only half of the time. There have been a plethora of hoaxes, pranks, misunderstandings, and of course, misidentifications of objects that have been spun into debunking the cryptic world, but you carry the scars from a true encounter at the base of your thumb. “But have you witnessed anything you would consider to be unearthly?”
Do they know something they can’t seem to tell you about?
Doc shifts again. Their hand strays to the notebook they carry, and touch the well-worn spine. Is it as important to them as your cryptid book is to you?
“No,” they fidget a few times anxiously, “Is there anything I can do to help you with your animatronic? I am an engineer.” 
Moon twitches behind you. Their eyes immediately fall to the movement and frown.
“Are you experiencing a malfunction?” they ask, and start to reach out again. Moon clenches your shoulder tighter.
“No, no!” You hold up your hands defensively. “That’s very generous to offer, but Moon is fine, thank you.”
They frown. Unconvinced, they continue to pry around your person to stare at the cryptid possessing a vessel. You’ve never had this problem before. So many people are put off by the strange, inexplicable presence of a demonic cryptid—a sixth sense warning of danger, but Doc heeds no such deterrents.
“He is experiencing micro spasms which may be a symptom of a conduction failure in his wires or a deeper issue within his processor.” They face Moon entirely, and he stares back unblinkingly. “When was the last time you went in for routine maintenance?”
“We don’t need maintenance,” he rasps. You cover his hand as it clenches you tighter still. A coolness swells around him and you hope Doc mistakes it for the coolness of the fridges.
Confusion twists their brow. Doc parts their lips to offer a rebuttal to a clear inconsistency with their framework and the fact of the matter, but Moon twists behind you. His grip never leaves your shoulder, his fingers digging into your collarbone as the jingle of the bell at the front of the store rings.
Then the lights flicker. A sharp fade of every light bulb overhead and even the light within the fridges drops the convenience store into darkness. Your heart tumbles in your chest. You didn’t bring your crossbow or your detector. Only a knife sits strapped to your hip, hidden by your patched, green jacket. 
Your eyes flash to Doc. You take them by the arm and their expression shifts to alarm behind their glasses.
“Move,” you whisper sharply. “Stay with me and be quiet.”
“I need to leave,” they say, strangely focused, but they don’t struggle when you guide them down the row of fridges to the last column of shelves in the back of the store. They don’t understand. Something else is here. Something not of this world. You must protect them from it.
Moon follows quietly behind you, his fingers spasming as they curl like claws. His pale eyes dip into crimson, alert and vicious. 
“Not a heart,” he mutters, and you glance at him. “Something else… Something strange.”
He stands between you, and your entire body clenches. A towering being begins to prowl under the flicker lights, slipping in through the door. You used to fear your dear friend placing themselves between you and the threat, but they are far more terrifying than any cryptid you have hunted.
The sharp contrast of the fluorescent light bulbs and the sudden darkness spears a sharp ache into your eyes. Carefully, you place Doc behind you, but they offer another protest again. 
“Be quiet,” you murmur firmly, “It’s going to be okay.”
“Ah, you don’t understand.” Doc’s eyes fall past you, towards the frosty doors of the fridges. “He’s—”
A sharp scratch of nails cutting over glass causes your shoulders to hunch up and a grimace to twist your face. You free the knife from your hip. It is the only defense you have for you and Doc. You should have been prepared for the alien to strike here, so close to the original sighting site, now creeping in close to find more precious victims to devour.
Doc reaches out, past you.
“You have to let me pass,” they say calmly. “He wants me.”
You turn to look over your shoulder, confusion painting you in flickering lights.
“Who does?” you ask.
The glass scratching stops. You stiffen, reading your knife as Moon tenses. Creeping from the row of fridges, a figure straightens. Tall and spindly, but with an unnerving aura of strength to his long limbs, an alien stands before you. Deep red and galaxy-speckled skin coats him, and you catch a strange symbol on one of his hands, like the moon eclipsing the sun. A dark hoodie with an alien ship covers his lanky form poorly—not unlike Doc’s. A sharp crown of jutting adornments sits upon his head. A waving veil of starlight falls behind his skull. 
His three eyes, bright and glinting, like a predator about to bounce, immediately find the person behind you. One eye is dark. His grin splits into a wide, hungry thing with razor-sharp teeth.
“My light,” his voice is low and dangerous, “I have been waiting for you.”
Behind you, Doc looks up at the towering, otherworldly beast, but there is no fear in their eyes.
“Stay back,” you immediately brandish your knife. Moon spreads his arm, ensuring that there is no passing him without going through him.
A dark chuckle falls from the creature.
“You dare think you can keep my light from me?” He spreads his arms, four limbs of sinew and bone, claws flashing with a desire to rip flesh from a body. “I will give you one chance to let my light go.”
Moon stands tall between him, silently gauging him like a proper opponent. Is the alien taller than your sweetie in their true form? You’re afraid he is.
“No,” you breathe, “You’re not taking them.” 
A soft sound arises behind you, distress mingling with breath. Doc must be terrified of the abrupt encounter. How could they have ever known an alien would mark them as his quarry?
A snarl rips through his chest, deep and vicious. His hands grope the surrounding shelves, fitting between cookies and candy bars. His hand swipes a few basic camping supplies, spilling ropes and canisters onto the ground. He catches a stainless steel one in his lower set of hands. In effortless brutality, the alien concaves the metal before his claws pierce the container entirely, crumpling it as if it were a soda can. Your gut clenches. 
“I will paint this tasteless floor in your blood,” the extraterrestrial growls, gnashing his teeth.
In response, a sharpness erupts from the sides of Moon’s chassis. Shadowy appendages, seeping black ooze over bony limbs with hands and claws of crimson, stand at the ready. You suck in a sharp breath.
“You will not touch a hair on our heart’s head,” an abysmal sound leaves the animatronic, layered and demonic.
The alien tilts his head, eyes widening at the challenge. 
“My, my, and what are you? No matter, I will tear you apart.” He laughs again, echoing with chilling amusement. Dread hooks deep into your belly.
“Eclipse, it’s okay.” Doc moves underneath your arm. 
Your knee-jerk reaction is fierce. You catch them by the back of their hoodie, scrunching fabric in your fist to keep them tethered close to you. They stop and look back at you. When they smile, it’s heavy. Guilt touches their edges, anchored by worry. 
“Ah. I know he’s frightening, but he’s not going to hurt anyone.” They tug on their hoodie, trying to loosen your grip. “You can let me go.”
“Yes, let them go,” the alien licks a dark tongue over his teeth, “and I might spare you all.”
“What—no, he’s…” you stumble over your tongue then stop, confused. “Do you know this cryptid?”
“Ah. Alien,” they correct you. “Yes. Eclipse would like me back now, please.”
Moon glances at Doc. Confusion pulses in his crimson gaze. The end of his nightcap falls over his shoulder. 
“They’re not afraid,” he rasps. He stares down at Doc’s chest. He can sense a heartbeat, the rhythm of it, and how fast it gallops in a person’s chest.
Your lips part wordlessly. 
There was a time when you believed cryptids were only monsters. Machines capable of great destruction and horror. You never dreamed a demonic cryptid would be capable of kindness and goodness, and care so much for little ones.
Your fingers slip from the fabric. Moon allows Doc to sweep underneath his arms. Their eyes fall to their shadowy limbs, and their hands shift to their notebook. Your heart clenches, caught in the camaraderie urge to take notes of your sweetie’s true form and fearing what Doc would do with such information. F.E.I. is still out there. There are other cryptid hunters. 
But they stop themselves. Fixing their glasses, they quickly step back into the alien’s reach. You clench the knife tighter, afraid as four pairs of hands descend upon them.
“We need to leave quickly,” Doc says as the alien kneels and hunches lower to look over the human, combing for harm or mistreatment. “We’ve already made a mess and stayed here for too long.”
“This isn’t a mess. Yet,” the alien answers, his voice murmuring like a lover in the night. The threat is not lost on you as Moon growls a warning. The alien flashes a smug smile, all teeth, and arrogance before he concludes his checkup on Doc. “Let’s go, my light.”
Doc nervously looks back at you, almost as if they would look to say more, explain, or even ask you about Moon’s extra, shadowy arms. Instead, they weakly wave, like this is a goodbye they wish didn’t have to happen.
The alien lifts them into his arms as if they weighed as much as a feather.
“Wait,” you step closer. Two arms, one metallic and blue, one shadowy and crimson, stop you. He keeps you back from the otherworldly being. “Are you safe?”
The alien scowls at you. Doc only smiles softly. 
“Yes, friend.” Their eyes linger on Moon. “You’re so impressive. I would love to know more about you.”
A ripple of what you think is jealousy takes over the alien. He turns away with a flash of teeth, and steps quickly, sweeping through the store and out the door with a sharp jingle. In moments, the alien carries the small human out into the night. You stand there, stunned. 
Moon straightens. “Their heart is still steady. They feel safe with him.”
Oh.
Moon slowly faces you, two arms touching your sides and holding you close. You lean into his embrace.
“I hope they are,” you murmur. The lights stop flickering in the gas station and the stars outside shine brighter in the darkness. A car speeds away, down the desert road.
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