#things are not nearly as bad as he spirals himself into thinking lol

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two--you are here/ Part Three

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table. 

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent. 

It smelled mockingly delicious. 

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it. 

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he? 

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean. 

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead. 

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.” 

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--” 

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war.

Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering. 

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies. 

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him. 

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway. 

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up. 

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation. 

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted. 

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!” 

(And he did say ‘Steve.’ 

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.) 

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies. 

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work.  “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.” 

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes. 

Eddie hated how good he looked too. 

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’ 

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl. 

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet. 

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over. 

(Their characters were dead too.) 

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.” 

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!” 

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table. 

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings. 

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales. 

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems. 

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy. 

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.  

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about why Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos. 

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to, presumably another annoying woman; 

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!” 

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them. 

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie was taken aback at the sheer number of them. 

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both flinched. “Come on, we need to get our gold!” 

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly. 

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process. 

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front. 

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP.  ) 

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.” 

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately. 

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper. 

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do. 

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.) 

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked. 

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit. 

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.” 

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible. 

Get him to help Harrington. 

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!” 

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly. 

“I’m supervising.” 

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it. 

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.” 

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour. 

xXx 

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington? 

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield? 

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about Harrington's stupid eyes, he wasn't!) 

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making. 

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’ 

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’ 

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though. 

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while Horrorton enjoyed the attention of the masses. 

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Steve would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew. 

To defend his table, his club, his friends. 

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then. 

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood. 

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”  

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.” 

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear. 

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting; 

“How delightful. I--” 

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?” 

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again. 

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!? 

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking in the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?” 

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror. 

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with. 

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return. 

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?” 

Eddie gaped. 

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

 “You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.” 

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy. 

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.) 

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.” 

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder. 

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.” 

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here. 

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys. 

In Eddie’s fucking place. 

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.  

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all. 

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.” 

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it. 

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're in the right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of intervention.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice. 

Sonovabitch. 

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkins, Harrington and everyone. 

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even? 

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this? 

Been a douchebag asshole? 

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marked her as a memeber of the high school band, who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier. 

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what Eddie was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends now.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault. 

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall. 

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words. 

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway. 

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation because they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!” 

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?” 

“...I’m not following.” 

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly.  So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway. 

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth. 

“Not so loud, Steve!” 

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?” 

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--” 

“Robs, breathe.” 

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath. 

 It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear. 

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!” 

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"  

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots. 

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.) 

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out. 

You know, in a gay way. 

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of. 

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground. 

Eddie’s head exploded. 

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely. 

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!” 

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!” 

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?” 

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?” 

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high. 

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire. 

[red-bat-arse]

Working on a BillFord fic I'm internally calling my delusional au lol but I think I'd actually title it the Have A Heart AU

Wherein Fiddleford leaves the project but Ford doesn't confront Bill, and since Bill is very happy things are going well he decides to start actually flirting. His way of doing this is to give Ford gifts of possessed rats, hurt his body in controlled ways, and talk about dangerous things they could do together...

Oh, and be so distracted by infighting in the Nightmare Realm that when Ford starts spiraling into scared paranoia over the -to him -literal torture, he doesn't notice until Ford throws him out of the mindscape.

So now he's got to figure out how to fix what he broke, or he'll never get the portal running, sure, but worse than that is he'll lose Ford for good. With Stan on the way to the cabin, looks like he'll have to make a deal with Specs of all people so he can have a body to pilot -if Ford doesn't want him in his mind, they can talk on more even ground. And maybe Bill can start making up for his mistakes along the way.

Excerpt and rambling underneath;

Bill looked down at the nail wound and tensed up -what if he made it worse? What if he got it wrong again and Ford woke up and thought he did it on purpose, thought he just wanted to- what, torture him?

Did Ford think Bill hated him? Or did he assume this was all some sort of prank like his childhood bullies would pull, a betrayal like his oaf of a twin committed, or plain scorn like nearly everyone else showed him for his big ideas? For the mind that Bill thought was exceptional and shone like a star- and-

-and why was this so hard? Why was Bill even second guessing himself? He was a god! He could take care of Sixer any way he wanted and he should be glad he showed him that much care. Any other being with Bill's amount of power would've taken Ford and made him into a mere pet, would've wasted his potential instead of cultivating it, and this was stupid! Bill should already know how to put Ford back together! Ford was his! Ford was supposed to-

Bill caught his reflection in the mirror and snapped out of his spiral. The battered, unkempt body of his author stared back at him, blood slowly leaking from his eye as Ford unconsciously fought against Bill's possession.

He hadn't ever done that before. Bill wiped at the blood but just ended up smearing it around, so he grabbed a new looking washcloth and wet it, taking Ford's glasses off to get at the stain better. He cleaned the blood away carefully and closed the eye once it looked like it had stopped leaking, and when he rinsed the cloth out the water ran down the drain pink.

Ford was supposed to be fine.

"I think I screwed up," he said out loud, and it was then he realized if he didn't fix this, properly, he'd lose everything.

He'd lose any hope of the portal being completed, sure, which meant sooner or later the Nightmare Realm would finally collapse in on itself and kill everyone inside. Granted, with how bad he was feeling at the moment after thousands of years of nothing, dying like that didn't exactly sound like the worst option. Sure, Ax would be sad for a bit, the old sap, but there wouldn't be anyone actually mourning him if he went out that way.

Not even his author, not even Ford, because he'd probably be relieved. The being Bill thought he would spend the next eternity with was terrified of him and if he didn't fix it he would be relieved when Bill died. He would be glad for it and die at 92 of a petty thing like a heart attack and then they'd both be written out of existence, and that would be the end.

If there was one thing Bill hated at this moment, it was thinking about Ford ending. He'd caused so many others over the years after that first unintentional one, after bringing Euclydia to an end, and he hadn't cared at all, had reveled in it even, but with Ford the notion was wrong, was awful. And the idea of Ford dying hating him and being glad to be rid of him, it made his entire shape seize up in distress.

Ford had rejuvenated him, brought him back from an apathetic husk of a being through nothing more than his mind and his charms, and look how Bill had repaid him.

Notes;

explores the idea of Bill not really understanding why humans work the way they do -such as hallucinating after days without sleep and reacting badly when the being possessing their body starts hurting it without explanation -but having to reckon with it if he wants to keep Ford

he's from an extinct dimension and's been around for millennia, and Ford is the first being in general he's ever actually liked -this is not a recipe for well-meshing love languages. i was like "what if Bill actually thinks giving someone a wound they can easily heal is like, the highest form of showing love"? what if he saw the aftermath and went "oh shit i fd up" and wanted to fix it? could something like that even be fixed? not with canon Bill, certainly, but i saw someone point out that if Ford were a touch worse of a person or Bill were a touch better, they probably could have been happy together, so in this AU -spoilers -i think it could be fixed

will be posted on my ao3 later today

[purble-turble]

I’ve been thinking about the old battle nexus poll of DKR vs Redboy and I know Redboy probably won the poll due to popular vote and because it’s very funny to have a little boy beat an adult man but I like to over think little details so of course I actually sat down and thought about it seriously for two seconds.

I mean DKR would have been a reasonable bet to make seeing as he overall is physically stronger, won’t just stand there and take a hit if he can dodge, and y’know not a literal child. But honestly what’s stopping Redboy from just the whole arena on fire? It’s just a matter of if DKR can tank the samadhi fire long enough for Redboy to tucker himself out. I mean the obvious answer is no he can’t because the poll said so.

Although that train of thought did lead me to just think of what DKR and Redboy would think of each other if they’re forced to make an opinion. They’re both strangely similar in the sense that they willing to force their respective MKs to marry him. Just one has the excuse of being too young (and spoiled brat tbh) to truly understand what he’s doing is technically bad. I can see Prisoner MK being discomfort led by the idea that Redson’s are just like that.

Oh yeah, the Red Son polls I did awhile ago were hilarious, especially the DKR vs Red Boy one- I gotta do more polls, they’re so much fun haha.. especially the ones with Demon King Red. Nobody wants that guy to win and that’s fully fair lol

That last thing you said about Prisoner MK made me really consider it tho.. even Red Boy, this early version of him that is at the very base of (nearly) all Red Sons in the multiverse- even that little kid version wants to kidnap him and keep him against his will. Sure it’s cute because he’s a lil kid, but this MK sees what it’s like when he grows up and still has that mindset. Yeah, it’s… not doing great things for Prisoner MK’s view of Red Son. He thinks maybe there is an inherent selfishness at the core of all Red Sons’ nature that makes them this way. So unless they are from one of the rare universes where something happens to make him miraculously grow out of it, it can be assumed that any Red Son will just take whatever he wants and therefore cannot be trusted.

(Nobody share this revelation with Time Travel Red Son, he will start to spiral)

[oneforthemunny]

Who is the most over protective dad!eddie (the one that's more strict than the other Eddie's when it comes to their child/ren ) to the least (he still loves his child/ren, he's just less authoritative)

i think the most over protective would be mafia!eddie just by default. like he's not letting bea out of his sight like ever. she is so under his thumb from the day she's born- even before then. i mean, he had one of the walk in closet turned into a makeshift nursery in his room because he was so scared of something happening.

then i would say maybe older!eddie. i think he was strict with brielle in way of "you can't go to parties" (did she listen? no lol) but he was also the only one who kinda parented her (gina would never) so he seemed more strict. really, he just wanted her to make good choices. with lilah, he's less strict, a little older and more confident and knows more with age.

janitor!eddie is more protective than he is strict. he just doesn't want his kids to have anything bad happen to them ever (unrealistic) especially oliver. he thinks ollie's gone through enough, been exposed to too much and wants to stop anything bad from happening to him again. he gets a little helicopter-ish in that way with ollie and olivia.

i'd say cowboy!eddie is next. really, he's not very strict unless it comes to things that could hurt cooper and the others (do you guys remember coop lol?). he's more so of a free range baby lol but eddie does not play about him being by the horses or the equipment by himself. i think he probably went through a phase when he was three where he'd dash towards the horses because he loved them so much, and eddie screamed at him, purely out of fear, but cooper was so scared of him for a little after. eddie was sick about it, felt like his dad and nearly spiraled, and you had to calm both of them down. really, as long as he was respectful tho and didn't go near anything that would hurt him, eddie likes that he kinda runs wild lol.

i'm saying dead last is rockstar!eddie. i mean, six girls? he's out fucking numbered lol. he gave up trying a while ago, as long as they don't come to blows he ignores it lmao. he is overprotective with paparazzi, especially when they're young, but really always. he used to love paps, love getting his picture taken, smug that he never had to call them that they just followed him everywhere. until he had kids. then if he saw one within a mile radius of his babies, he was liable to go to prison lol. other than that, as long as they're not hurting themselves or others, he's like "do whatever".

[fuglyjeans]

Ok the first time I watched bojack horseman season 6, it sent me in a pretty bad depression spiral. But I just watched it again for the first time in almost 4 years, and it actually fills me with peace. I think I thought the show was saying no one can change, really; bojack will always be just some shitty selfish horse. He can try to do better, but he can't change the lives he's ruined, or outrun the consequences, and he'll always slip up. That made me so sad.

But now i see it more like... yeah hollyhock cut off contact, bojack goes to prison, Diane implies they'll never speak again, Princess Carolyn implies she won't work with Bojack again in the future etc. But at the same time all of these characters still express love to bojack and thankfulness that he was in their life. Even Todd is really kind to bojack in the final episode, despite having every reason to ignore him forever. They draw boundaries as they should. But there's still compassion.

Even though bojack has arguably lost absolutely everything, he's still able to find a little joy in prison putting on a play. And those people will still probably say hi to him from time to time... and after he gets out of prison, who knows, maybe he'll make more progress and find new people, start better relationships. He was already on the up and up... he relapsed, but honestly that happens. Before his relapse he'd been sober for like a year which is pretty amazing.

bojack is messy and his progress is slow. He's deeply flawed and no one is obligated to stay in his life, no one has to respect him after all the shitty things he's done. But what brings him true peace is being honest with himself about that... no memoir or dream role or Oscar win or long-lost sister or university can replace the peace of just being real. Taking accountability. I think by the end bojack is at least starting to realize that and commit it to memory.

I also think it's tempting to feel like post-rehab bojack is all better, he's a new bojack, it's unfair that the reporters and interviewers come after him to ruin his life after he'd just fixed it. He's not the same as Vance Waggoner!! But that's the thing.. even though it's hard, even though it feels unfair, bojack still has the choice to do better. He didn't have to do the 2nd interview. He didn't have to teach at hollyhock's school without asking her if that would be weird. He didn't have to do Horny Unicorn, he didn't have to go back into that party after reading hollyhock's letter. He didn't have to go on one last bender, break into his old house, call Diane and nearly kill himself. It's understandable that he did. It's painful and horrible. But every single time, he could have chosen to walk away, ask for help--maybe not from Diane or PC or Todd, but surely Mr Peanutbutter or he could have just checked into the ER for monitoring. And that would feel sad and humiliating and lonely but he would survive and come out knowing he didnt ruin things this time, even if he felt alone. Its ok to be alone. But he didnt do that... so even though i understand why "new bojack" fucks up again.... it WAS all still his own choice.

I could talk abt this show forever lol God

[dr-docktor]

About Floppy Disk Curt... So, do you have some more plot made for this au? Sorry if you made a post and I missed it, I just mean - how does Owen realize that Curt is (semi) sentient? What does he do? How sentient is Curt, actually? What does he remember? And how much can he feel? Does their codependence get worse?

HAHAHA I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED. I sort of expanded on some of the lore in some previous asks but none of it is super organized so I can go over it real quick! I'm still developing a lot of it so if things don't make a ton of sense, I'm working on fixing that lol. First off, I sort of shifted the time period around to be closer to the 90's to better fit the technology, aesthetics, and the rise in popularity of mascot-y desktop assistants.

Owen kills Curt during the staircase scene and despite what he tells himself and his coworkers. He regrets it. He regrets it so god damned much. There's no one to feel so strongly about anymore, whether it be love or seething hatred. He just feels empty.

Meanwhile, Chimera retrieved Curt's corpse and uploaded his consciousness into a computer with the hopes of getting what little he knows about the inner workings of A.S.S. out of him. (don't ask how this is possible, uhhhh silly sci-fi shenanigans I guess)

Of course, he's not cooperative. So Chimera opts to do the totally sane and not evil thing by separating himself from his memories of being human. His ambitions, his relationships, everything except for what Chimera needs. They can't seem to find a way to outright delete the memories for good (I'll probably either rework this part or figure out why they can't outright delete them) but what they can do is try and build up walls of restrictions to prevent him from accessing them. So for a a little while he's just this blank slate spitting out what little information he knows about A.S.S. Mostly useless.

Until Chimera gets an idea.

With the rise of a new trend comes the opportunity for PROFIT. This one being the rise of household computers and mascot-y desktop assistants to help the average user learn how to use a computer.

But Chimera wants to take it a step further. They are the future, after all. They want a desk top assistant that's incredibly life-like. Something that the user can have a genuine conversation with (like an incredibly early chatbot). This project is also absolutely meant to be spy-ware. 1000%. No way its not.

They call the project the 'Beta Anatomy Simulacrum Technology for Research and Development'. Or B.A.S.T.R.D for short! (I had to STRETCH to make that acronym work lmao)

Rather than start this from scratch, the project head (The name I'm going with right now is Harper Royale) has the brilliant thought of "well, what's more life-like than an actual human consciousness in a computer that we have collecting dust somewhere in the tech labs? It's already a husk we just add some code to it and bam it's ready!"

So they take the empty husk of digital curt mega and fix it up a little. Royale thinks its a good idea to give a miniscule amount of his humanity back to him. Namely curiosity (so he can learn things) and a basic understanding of how to have a functional conversation with people. Nearly everything else, like the cheery personality and character model, is all added in by the developers.

The good news is the projects going great! Employees within Chimera are finding the little guy really helpful and entertaining. Employees nickname him DC as a reference to his knowledge on A.S.S. Like their own personal informant inside DC (as in the capital of the us where a lot of government buildings and information is stored)

The bad news? Curiosity. Because now he wants to know why the sad looking British guy from one of the first few rounds of test trials keeps calling him Curt.

Tt spirals into this terrible loop of DC starting to put stuff together, never quite reaching the conclusion that he was a living person once (much less the importance of one Owen Carvour) before the employees catch on to what he's doing and reset him from square one. Over and Over and Over again. The only frame of reference that DC has are these hidden notes he leaves himself during each loop.

Eventually the higher-ups at Chimera realize that the cost of having to go through the complicated process of resetting DC the moment they figure out that he's gained a little sentience and then run through test trials AGAIN simply outweighs the potential profit. So they move to shut down the project, much to Royale's dismay.

The higher-ups joke that Carvour should be the one to do the honors, given everything between him and Curt. And he's like "ok yeah I'll do it" and they're like "we were joking but you've given us zero reason to doubt you so have fun killing the simulacrum of your former closest friend, bestie"

Owen, of course, decides to go behind everyone's backs and download the one and only existing copy of the B.A.S.T.R.D program onto his personal computer. At this point, Owen has no clue about DC slowly regaining his sentience if left unchecked and literally only did it because he has problems about processing the fact that he killed Curt that he refuses to confront. (what a normal guy)

So slowly, having been freed from this loop of resets, DC slowly begins to put together the pieces. He doesn't know how exactly Owen may or may not be involved in any of this, but he keeps most of this growing autonomy a secret for safety reasons. Just in case Owen is decidedly someone not to be trusted and turns him in.

DC, however, will test still the waters by subtly bringing up memories that he knows are somehow important to either him or Owen and then gauging his reaction. Doing his damn best to put together context clues.

Admittedly I don't have anything beyond this yet. I'm still working on Owen's reactions to all of this and also how the technology works. But I hope this answers at least some of your questions!

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

You mentioned that Crane was running around half-naked in Arkham Asylum during some kind of manic period. And that got me thinking.

How can Batman even cope with such things? You have a kind of criminal boyfriend who's going through a manic period. He talks only about fear and can't think of anything else. What to do?

Send him to Arkham? Are the doctors competent enough? Shove the medicine down Crane's throat on your own? Just lock him in a Bat-Cave and hope for the best?

i tend to think, that down the line, when it happens, bruce have nearly a sense of acceptance hanging over him. it’s unavoidable, after all. even if jonathan would try his hardest, eventually smth will set him off or his mind would slide back into spiral. he’s not a super strong willed person, when it comes to his devices. an’ considering, that fear was jonathan’s main companion for almost as long as he can remember himself, it’s basically impossible to tear it out of him. from bruce’s perspective, it’s one of those things, where all he can do is try to minimize the damage, despite how it still upsets him. 

bruce is well aware that he can’t magically fix jon’s brain nor change his perception. in fact, meds can’t truly fix none of those things either, just keep crane from going into the deep end. so in a way, every option is pretty temporal an’ that’s kinda disheartening on its own. but in a way, i feel like it’s more jonathan’s personal view on the situation vs bruce’s. out of two of them, the big bad bat known to be so ridiculously stubborn. jon would sooner give up on himself, before bruce would do it. or in other words, bruce be willing to ‘run in circles’ for jonathan in that case. even if smth doesn’t work, just try again. it’s not like he won’t ever get frustrated with the fact, that nothing seems to do what he wishes it would. but bruce's general view on sickness of mind is quite a silver lining. there is just gotta be smth that will do the trick, right? just need to figure out what it might be. 

either way, in timelines where scarebat have some sort of form or even stalls in the beginning stage, arkham asylum prob won’t be bruce’s first or even fourth choice. i’m pretty sure, that he was always aware, that arkham is less of a place to heal the disturbed, an’ more of a cage to contain them. it doesn't take a genious to notice, that jonathan always comes back way worse after being there, than he was before. instead of curing him, that place allows all of his worst thoughts to fester an’ fester further. not to mention, i believe that bruce’s ‘hero complex’ toward jon would eventually evolve in a way, where he would subconsciously view himself as the only one, who can help / save him. combined with his control freak stick, where he can’t seem to trust even the closest of his allies to do certain stuff an’ prefers to do it himself just to be sure … welp, here you have it. the ultimate ‘he is MY responsibility’, but taken to the max level. the unselfaware possessive declaration.

it's almost funny. since it’s not like jonathan doesn’t already consider this to be true as well. that only batman *could* would save him. even if he also thinks this subconsciously lol. they have this common ground, despite how neither of them actually reflects on it. i mean, the whole deal of arkham knight is literally jonathan being robbed of his delusion an’ ‘anchor’, hence reacting to it very badly. an’ bruce no longer being able to maintain the savior mantle, which leads to their mutual destruction.

howerer, for the sake of it, let’s imagine that bruce manages to save jonathan in arkham asylum, who is still maniacal an’ still insists on being half-naked. clearly, not all that much can be done here. but with the joker’s death hanging over bruce as an unwanted reminder that this is most likely how all of his rogues would eventually go out, he has to do smth. he’s too paranoid not to. he can’t trust crane to somehow get better on his own.

so, what indeed, can bruce do then? pills might help to sustain jon for time being, but it doesn’t really solve the problem for long. once, jon be off them, he’d be way more aggressive an’ erratic than he was beforehand. hormones inside his brain will go wild as they won’t be ‘clogged’ by valium, an’ back to rampage he will go. like, batman still might attempt to do it in some cases, but not before trying smth else first. but that's if we talk about arkhamverse one, specifically. i think, that depending on the version of the bat, each of them would try slightly different approaches to the problem. ak!bruce is also prob more aware about how it would also take a fairly huge dose of medicine to 'take' jon down, when he's like that.

now, in comparison to this, containing crane somewhere ‘safe’ during that time isn’t such a bad idea. keeping him in the same place can prove to be tricky, when he’s like that, but still managable. after all, a sheer crux of jon’s fear obsession always leads back to batman, so it’s safe to assume that if he will have access to him, he would most likely leave an unfortunate bystander alone. in arkham asylum, while he had injected guards an’ randos with ft, his primal focus was still trained on the bat. an’ once they met ‘face to face’, it was only this. he didn’t come after anyone else. nor he seemed to communicate with any other rogues, or even care that they existed. the part of what made that segment of the game magical is the feeling of flimsy reality. of isolation. as there wasn’t anyone else in that nightmare world, just jon an’ the ‘little bat’. batman’s fear is the most intoxicating one for jonathan. the sort that he’s very greedy for, an’ can never get enough of. so if bruce will ‘lure’ him into a make-shift trap to stale the time, jon would follow. 

i honestly, think that if bruce will drive them to some desolate cornfield an’ let jonathan ‘haunt’ him there, that it might kinda help. it’s the feel of thrill an’ terror an’ chace, that might ‘sedate’ scarecrow’s appetite for fear an’ tremors, at least for some time. he wants to scare an’ to be afraid. bruce simply needs to create a ‘playpen’ for them during those times. akin to the kinds jonathan himself tends to create for them. he could also put him into ‘gay jail’ inside bat-cave too. on the paper, this sounds kinda hilarious. bruce be trying to piece together some case, an’ jon would be like ‘feeeear’ from some corner of the cave, like a parrot or a ghost. i can see arkhamverse bruce actually doing it tbh. he way less ‘cuddly’ with scarecrow vs BTAS or comicverse batman, who can appear somewhat gentle with them in some instances. him building jon his own fear baby cage is ridiculously accurate. he could even feed him through the bars, as it’s almost familiar sort of interaction. 

but overall, i think, bruce himself is the best ‘medicine’ for jon. be it via delivering a knockout punch, or way more unusual methods. 

on other hand, i think it’s hella frustrating for jonathan, when bruce has his own mania, which is often displayed in how he begins throwing himself into his vigilante work, after some big accident had occurred an’ many people got killed / got hurt. it’s like almost non-stop crime preventing, saving people for him an’ crane not sure what he can even do. his ‘they were clearly too stupid to live. it’s not your fault’ doesn’t really help anything lol. but what he will attempt to do is talk for another time, i suppose. 

[prismaticpichu]

Nibelheim Roadblock #3 ~ “Bad Pipe/Flooded”

Suggested by the amazing @holly-sephiroth!! I kinda ran out of fic-writing steam these past few days, so instead of that kinda loose story/analysis thing, I hope the bullet points will suffice lol <3

~

• At least three days have passed since their less than stellar trip to the Nibelheim Reactor—and by extent, three days since anyone has seen Sephiroth. Thankfully it’s on that third day when someone conveniently realizes the gates to ShinRa Manor are wide open, so that’s precisely where Zack Fair sprints off to in search of his friend.

• Upon entering the foyer, and all of its dank and tenebrous ambience, Zack begins shouting for his commander. There’s no response. He continues to wander aimlessly around the first story, until coming to stop at the base of a loooonnngg spiral staircase. Seriously cliche, but who had time to think about that now? Sephiroth could be upstairs!

• He puts his foot on the first step, reaching for the railing—

• Before immediately recoiling with a disturbed yelp.

• Would’ja know it, but an old and deserted mansion doesn’t exactly get the best house cleaning. Zack peels his hand away from the railing to find it unnervingly sticky, clusters of dust and who knows what clinging to his palm. He nearly goes green. Of course it’s the one day he forgets to put on his glove that he touches unnamed staircase substance™️

• Okay, slight change in plans! Can’t find his commander if he’s on the verge of hurling. Next objective becomes finding the nearest bathroom—because c’mon, there has to be at least ONE in this joint. Right? Right?

• Fortunately there is, just around the corner; Zack gladly rushes inside it and bolts straight for the sink, ready to cleanse himself of the Goop.

• But would’ja know it, old and decrepit manors don’t exactly have the best facilities. As Zack reaches to turn the knob, he’s a little peeved to find that it’s stuck as a tire in mud, quickly becoming addled with anxiety and impatience. He needs to get the GOOP off, man. He needs to GET IT OFF!

• There seemed to be only one logical thing to do in this situation: try harder. So that’s precisely what Zack does. He pulls harder, and harder, and harder, and harder,. Nothing. Desperately, getting his teeth and planting his feet, Zack resorts to grasping the knob with both hands. And with his new grip, he heaves.

• The knob turns.

• Now, when one turns on a sink, they are usually greeted with a tame flow of water they can use to wash their hands. Just a gentle stream, pleasant in viscosity and temperature. And most certainly pleasant in pressure.

• But would’ja know it, old and dilapidated mansions don’t have the best plumbing systems. Or perhaps the former residents just liked an astronomically powerful shower.

• The sink begins to groan, sinisterly—not unlike that of a monster waiting under a child’s bed. And it’s there, two hands clasped over the now-turned knob, eyes wide with shock, that Zack realizes the impending doom he had just unleashed.

• “Uh oh.”

• A jet stream of water explodes from the sink, cascading out at gushing speed and immediately filling up the basin. Yelping, Zack rushes to pull the drain plug, flipping out, jumping a bit as the icy water bleeds over the edge and reaches his shoes. Great. He’s only been in here maybe 6 minutes and he’s already causing property damage—what a hero……!

• “Nice going, Zack,” he says, surrounded by ever-rising water. “Real nice.”

Meanwhile

• Deep in the basement of the very same manor, beneath the labyrinthine webbing of rusting pipes, Sephiroth has his nose buried in a book. He’s distant, lost, underwater…. completely oblivious to the shrieking sounds of a guilty First Class stories above him. His eyes narrow, unearthing all the hideous, poisonous truths the world had kept hidden from him. Unearthing them, just like Her.

• Her… Her and her insidious presence… slowly wrapping around him, day by day, ushering him further and further into the realm beyond consciousness. He is beyond sleepwalking, beyond simple numbness. Not even a cold splash of water would bring him back.

• A waterfall though? Just maybe.

• It was then and there that the ceiling begins to groan, shake, and before the sluggish soul can even react to its presence, a cascade of sink water bursts through a fissure in the ceiling.

• And, conveniently, someone just so happens to be in the splash zone.

• It pounds onto Sephiroth—gushes, crashes, deluges—soaking not only his head but enveloping his entire body in water, head to toe, bang to boot. He gasps, coughing, chokes, nearly taking in H2O as it continues to storm down upon him.

• Needless to say such a sudden burst is enough to jolt him back into awareness, thrust him back into the present. Not to mention that it is FREEZING.

• Blessedly, the impromptu shower eventually comes to a stop. Sephiroth falls to his knees, drenched, his coat glistening like black ice and hair sopping wet. He gasps for air, this time gratefully intaking it, shivering. And that’s when he heard a sudden SQUELCH beneath his hands. He glances down, lashes dripping. Eyes widening. It’s the book he had been reading, soaked and ruined. A stack of pages remains glued to his glove as he peels it away, the appendage trembling.

• And that’s when he realizes just how many books he is truly surrounded by.

• And shivers again.

Meanwhile

• Zack stands in the flooded bathroom, panting as he finally manages to make the water stop.

• Ok. Well… at least his hands were clean.

• Just as he’s leaving the bathroom-turned water park, he hears another door open—or maybe more accurately, slide aside. He rushes around the corner to find Sephiroth emerging from a passage in the wall, somewhere between a zombie and a wet Siamese.

• Zack, just elated to see him, hurries over to him and asks if he found the indoor swimming pool—before slapping him on the wrist and asking if he’s crazy, abandoning their team like that.

• Sephiroth apologizes, his eyes wide, before squishily making his way back to the inn.

~

• Following Sephiroth’s proper shower, the elephant is still left in the room. Zack sits beside his friend on one of the beds, arm wrapped around his shoulder. It’s much easier to talk through feelings after a refreshing shower—duh—and so, with some gentle prodding, Sephiroth spills his anxieties about being a monster, sharing what he found in the records.

• And this time, without Genesis’s input, Zack tells him him it’s not true <3

[ladytauria]

2, 3, 9 and 15 are screaming at me 👀 I would love to know more about those!! - 🍊

(gen) rr pack & (gen) red hood’s robin (rr)

<333 so!! these first two are actually kind of connected.

i started writing red hood's robin first, and then i decided i wanted to do an omegaverse take, which spiraled into pack. and THEN i shared pack with @deepwithintheabyss, who gave me the idea for "sweetness of honey." (the rr vampire au came after "pack"--i had a very specific craving at the time 😂)

editing in some further context bc i realized i forgot to. add that. lmao

in “red hood’s robin” jason still tries to steal the batmobile tires and batman takes him to ma gunn’s. the theater thing doesn’t happen, though. instead, he ditches the house and ends up back on the streets.

it’s inspired by a fic i read—one by iselsis, i will link the exact one in a bit <3

“pack” starts more similarly to “the sweetness of honey” though jason isn’t being given as a gift this time, lol.

a snippet from red hood's robin ->

“Hey, Mister Hood,” he says, faux cheerily. “What brings you here tonight?” Despite himself, Tim snorts. “Patrol. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” The boy bristles, a scowl on his face. “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” he says brashly—but there’s a slight waver to his tone, and his gaze darts down to one of Tim’s guns. Tim is still impressed. If he wasn’t so unnerved, he’d be a damn good liar. “I think it is,” Tim says conversationally. He leans against the alley wall, hoping to put the kid at ease at least a little. “You know, you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” The boy fidgets for a second, and says, with conviction, “Peter.” Tim just nods, despite being sure it’s a lie. It’s almost definitely his ‘working name’, which turns Tim’s stomach. He ignores it. “Well, Peter—I don’t know if you’ve heard, but… I’ve got a bit of a thing against children standing street corners.” The boy looks shifty again, before screwing his face in something like disgust. “What, the Red Hood’s against loitering now?” Tim laughs, amused again despite himself. It feels… good. Makes him conscious of just how little he’s been laughing lately. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant,” he says, amused. “But, sure, kid, I’m against loitering. And I think you and I need to have a chat.” The kid’s face turns ashen. Tim winces, and immediately reassures him— “You’re not in trouble. I’m not going to hurt you.”

a snippet from pack ->

There’s something wrong with Jason’s nest. No matter how many times he readjusts it, it’s still... lacking. It shouldn’t be. It has more bedding than Jason has ever had access to in his life, making it just as plush as he’d always craved. There are lots of blankets, too, soft and thick and warm. And the nest is drenched in his scent. No one would stumble upon it and think it had been abandoned. But it’s still— Wrong. Jason whines, deep in his chest. It’s loud, louder than he could usually afford to be, living on the streets or at home, but he doesn’t care. He’s tired and sore and he just wants to rest, but he can’t, because his nest is wrong and bad and he doesn’t know how to fix it. It isn’t fair! He climbs out of it. Maybe he can tell what’s wrong with it if he looks at it differently. Moving backwards, towards the window, he tilts his head. From here, he can see the problem. His nest is big—empty. A little omega like himself isn’t nearly enough to fill it. Jason frowns. And then he hears footsteps. They sound like they’re a few rooms away, but it’s all Jason needs to remember—he’s not alone. There’s an alpha here, too! An alpha who gave him such nice nesting material to work with, and a good den to build in. So why isn’t the alpha in here with him? …had Jason been bad? He doesn’t remember being bad, but… it would make sense. Jason is always bad. Mama and some of his teachers had disagreed, but they’d been the only ones. His sire was always mad at him for something, and after mama died, well— Jason’s done a lot of bad things now, and maybe it was because he had to, but— It doesn’t matter. Most of it still makes him feel awful. Jason slumps a bit. He doesn’t want to be bad. He wants to be good, and to curl up in his nice plush nest with the alpha that’s been so good to him. Oh! Of course! The nest! Surely, once the alpha sees how comfortable and plush Jason’s nest is, he’ll want to stay, and he won’t be mad anymore. Or at least he’ll be willing to give Jason a chance. Brightened, he climbs back into the nest, swaddling a blanket around his shoulders. He takes a breath and then pack calls, trying not to sound too needy. (His sire had never liked needy pups.) The apartment quiets—not that there had been much noise before. Jason waits, holding still and trying to be patient. He’s rewarded by the steps resuming, though this time drawing closer. The alpha raps on the door, and waits for Jason to respond with another, softer, call before he finally enters. Jason whuffs in greeting, pleased. The alpha looks… confused, but he smiles at Jason. He can’t be real mad, then—though Jason knows adults are good at hiding that, sometimes—so Jason smiles back. “You’ve built a lovely nest, Jason,” the alpha says, and Jason preens. He knew the alpha would be pleased. It really is a very nice nest. “Alpha,” Jason says, request and demand all in one. He pats the nest. The alpha’s brows raise, just a little; and then his mouth twists. Jason’s stomach sinks. “I don’t… know if that’s a good idea,” the alpha says slowly. Jason can’t help it. He whines. His sire always hated it when he got whiny, but— He’s tired and sore and he just— He wants— “Please? I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I promise!” The alpha’s face crumples, and he immediately drops to his knees beside the bed. His arms raise, as if to hold Jason, before dropping again. Jason scrambles forward, another little whine in his throat, and the alpha catches him in his arms, pulling him down into the floor and cradling him. Jason grips tightly to the back of his shirt, burying his face in his neck. He’s warm, and he smells so safe. “Oh, pup,” he murmurs. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to upset you.” He strokes Jason’s curls, swaying them slightly. “I just—” He cuts himself off and sighs, holding Jason a little bit tighter; smelling of guilt, but also enough affection to make Jason warm to his toes. “I would be happy to nest with you, Jason.”

(jaydick) a small kiss (prompt fic)

the full prompt is "a small fleeting kiss which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss". i talked about it (and shared a snippet) here!

(jaysteph) wifejay

kind of like with the first two, this one is also connected to another wip idea on my list xD

a long time ago i read "the honeymoon phase" by kuro49 (as well as crookedspoon's wifey 'verse fics) and it. left an impression. i LOVED the idea and i wanted to write wife!jason stuff for jaytim.

and THEN i was like: you know what else would be fun? jaysteph.

have a snippet ->

Steph’s feet ache. It’s been a long day, and she’s glad to finally be home. Even gladder when she opens the door and smells something absolutely heavenly in the air. “Honey, I’m home,” she calls, shutting the door behind her. She shoulders her coat off, hanging it up with her purse before sitting down to tug off her shoes. “Welcome home, dear,” Jason calls. The warmth in his voice makes her smile. That smile widens when she reaches the kitchen. Jason stands at the stove, wearing a frilly eggplant covered apron. Sheer stockings climb up his legs to hug his thighs. His dress flirts with old-fashioned modesty; the flared black skirt and petticoat falling three inches above his knees. There are accessories she can’t see, but which she knows are there—a golden band wrapped around his finger, and a clutch of pearls around his neck, almost a choker. Almost a collar. Steph plasters herself against his back and hooks her chin over his shoulder. She doesn’t bother resisting the urge to grope his ass through his skirt, delighting in the way he shivers. “What’s cooking?” she asks. “Beef stew,” he says. “And fresh bread. It’ll be out of the oven soon.” Steph kisses his neck. Perfect—gives her some time to slip into something more appropriate. “Good. I’m starving.” She smacks his ass when she pulls away. He sucks in a sharp, surprised breath, an absolutely adorable blush on his face. There’s an extra bounce in her step as she makes her way to the bedroom. She strips, leaving her clothes in a trail on the floor to the closet. Toward the back of it is a set of pressed black slacks, a button up, and a blazer. She picks one of her ties—nearly all of them purple—and then grabs a sports bra and a pair of purple boxers from her drawers. After a moment’s thought, she puts on her harness, too. She leaves the tie crooked on purpose, and makes sure to rumple her clothes, to better sell the idea she’s been wearing them all day. The outfit is completed with a small, gold band; twin to the one on Jason’s finger. God, Steph loves wife nights.

[ wip ask game ]

[bisaster-energy]

you can tell me about your idea!!!

thank you so much 😭 it's kinda long sorry

SO i was listening to a song my sister like (Valerie, Amy Winehouse) and there's this line about ginger hair and it was just so specific ig it stuck with me? so im thinking man who do i know with red hair...DUH KUWABARA!!!

nearly every song i listen to gets assigned a character or ship or relationship of some sort idk why but yeah once i fixated on the hair i was able to expand on the rest of the song and a sort of idea settled in the back of my head about kuwameshi

we all know kuwabara is always the one getting left behind but what if while he's off doing his thing yusuke also feels that sense of loss? an absence even though it was his decision to up and leave. it makes no sense cos hey! you felt the need to go back to the demon realm bro but he cannot help how he feels left behind in some illogical sense. i made some notes 😤😤

centers round the time where yusuke goes back to makai after the whole sensui debacle and kuwabara is getting his education studying in prep for college (hell yeah boy !!) not sure if the timelines even match up like that but i literally dont care

i'm working under the canon divergence that keiko really did decide she's not gonna wait for urameshi like that but ofc she's still his bestie and he loves her sooooo much <3

so he's going back. he's a demon now so he feels drawn to the culture. it's a side of himself he's never known after feeling so othered ofc he's interested right?

i mean sure he grew up with other humans but almost everyone hated him/was scared of him ironically he was called a demon or monster or wtv

reactions like that are why he almost decided not to come back to life in the first place!! it wasn't a welcoming atmosphere and even his home didn't feel great cos his mom isn't exactly the mothering type

im all for deadbeat moms but the neglect will fuck a kid up. demon heritage or not

and he loves her and all but it's just all fucked up at home so he ended up wandering around a lot being mad about his shitty life and he likes fighting so that's what he did!

and obviously in makai this behavior isnt like. crazy or uncalled for

but yeah the only connections he's got to ningenkai is his mom, keiko (her parents by extension) and of course kuwabara; the only friends he managed to not scare off

anyway. you get it. so yusuke is back in makai and without his permission his mind keeps wandering to kuwabara who he hasn't seen in let's say. a year and some change? i'll decide later but A While

and like. last time he was in the demon world kuwa was WITH him yknow? like yeah the world was ending but it feels weird without him even if he is having a blast fighting with his new demon buddies and acquaintances

so he's a little distracted when he literally came here to fight he cant even focus on it

"how is college prep treating him? are the teachers there just as bad as middle school? did he make new human friends? a girlfriend?" basically he's spiraling over changes he might be missing out on this very moment

there's a bunch of talk in the song where the singer wonders if valerie dyed her hair if she's busy if she ever paid that fine if she sold her house if she got a man so that's where i got it lol

yusuke doesn't have to worry about kurama and hiei cos hey they're from here and have lived way longer and they actually do visit but who knows what typa shit could be happening to kuwa right now

ofc he can take care of himself he's really strong but yusuke can't help but remember that time he let kuwabara go when he shouldn't have and he almost died because he wasn't there and yeah. he's worried. sue him

so it's half worry half wistfulness and maybe some other secret third thing and when hiei and maybe kurama (depending on how the idea forms as i write) come to visit or maybe they're also participating wtv

he cant help but think well kuwabara could be here with us if he really WANTED to :/ he's got the jigen to down pat by now so...why hasn't he...

and those old but ever remaining insecurities resurface about how people don't wanna be around him they think he's a nuisance at best no good waste of time a trouble maker. keiko already dumped my sorry ass so who knows maybe kuwabara just...wisened up

hiei and kurama are like this bitch is back on his bullshit (affectionate)

they manage to weedle his worries out of him hiei ofc trying to act like he doesnt really care (he cares a lot) "you must not have much faith in kuwabara if you think he'd abandon you just from some time apart. and i thought HE was the oaf between the two of you"

kurama with his fox self is like "well yes hiei is right of course kazuma is too loyal to do something like that. but he is human...the only human of us now."

yusuke is like wth is that supposed to mean on the defensive even tho kurama is their friend and hasn't even said anything untrue and hiei narrows his eyes a bit maybe but is still acting like this doesn't really concern him

"i just mean that...from what i've learned about humans over the time i've spent with them...time feels different. we demons live such long lives that when faced with the human lifespan well...it can be laughable to some. that's why demons can be so callous about their lives."

yusuke just wants him to get to the point ofc "what i'm saying is we don't need a lot of contact with each other to keep relationships fresh and healthy but, kuwabara might be a little different. 3 years will do nothing to your bond but...i do worry about longer periods..."

and he seems to just trail off and it just gets quiet and a little sad and hiei isn't looking at them anymore

kurama starts again pretty cheerfully tho "well, don't worry! i'm planning on staying in the human world for quite some time once i'm done with this visit! i do have the company to take care of so i'll make sure to see kazuma all the time! i'll even send him a message from you if you want to say anything :)"

kurama has deliberately been using kuwa's first name knowing damn well urameshi doesn't even use it because this dude is not JUST a sweetie he's a fucking master manipulator. gaslight gatekeep bbg

yusuke is like okay yeah no new plan i'll just go see him now. no need for a middle man thanks anyway and then he's just gone. left the tournament early. like bruh that's what you came here for 😐

so yeah he's breaking into kuwa's house next thing you know and ofc he goes through the window not the door like a normal person and he just kinda stops short because he hasn't seen his friend in what feels like forever even though it's only been like a year or so but he just looks so different

and yeah a big part might be the hair he's never seen without that popadour, long soft copper coils, and he's somehow even bigger than when yusuke left him jesus when did he get so swole? when did he have time in between all those brainiac classes

yusuke knows he's bound to look a lil different too ofc i mean they weren't kids anymore really but like. when they hell did you go and grow up?

"next time i come back is this even gonna be your house anymore? will you still wanna hang out with dropout delinquent demon urameshi?" he gets so insecure in so little time

anyway kuwabara didn't sense him at first cos yusuke isn't a threat and he never really thought he'd be coming especially not yet but when he does notice

kuwabara just gets the biggest goofiest grin he's like urameshi you dog when the hell did you get back in town you're early!!

and yusuke is significantly eased by this reaction but now he feels stupid cos he up a left everything just to what? bother kuwabara while he studies to achieve his dreams? yusuke has got no human world aspirations like keiko had. like kurama has. like kuwabara.

and ofc kuwabara looks glad to see him but he wasn't desperate enough to just show up like yusuke had just done and he feels like a pathetic loser so he pouts

he's like yeah hey man just uh. checking in. and i should probably check out hah you seem busy with your books so im gonna scram and he tries to retreat through the window

and ofc kuwa is NOT letting him get away

and there's that desperation yusuke had selfishly wanted to see. kuwabara had just grabbed him without thinking even though he'd promised himself when urameshi left he wasn't gonna just sit around waiting for his life to start when he came back

he remembers when yusuke took him into that headlock and he wanted to succeed like he said he would that day

but still he's just thinking about urameshi all the time and it's awful. he always said he was gonna beat him some day but he just wanted to be near him. but all he sees is his back, even right now

part ii cos it's too many words!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

*Distant screaming*

S!!! I HAD ANOTHER IDEA.

Okay we all know the sweet (very sad) baby bunny that is TJ Hammond. We know how his love life hasn’t been too fantastic. But!!!! What if he finds a new guy that makes him happy? A sweet guy from the Boston suburbs with a nice job and an even nicer body. Maybe he meets Mr. Barber at a bar or maybe a group therapy session or also maybe he gets into some legal trouble. And suddenly he finds himself going home with this guy who makes him want to do things that his mother’s PR team would not approve of. Maybe it’s the first time he’s been really treated with love, where it’s clear that he’s adored just as much as he adores Andy. He’s head over heels, and so when things go to shit he finds himself on Andy’s doorstep.

“TJ? Sweetheart, are you alright?” Andy asks, worry in his voice.

TJ can’t even talk, he just lets the tears fall and shakes his head. He’s quickly ushered in and hugged tightly, where he promptly breaks down. Sobbing into Andy’s shoulder, hanging onto him like a lifeline. Andy just keeps holding him, kissing the top of his head and whispering sweet words.

“Oh, darling… It’s okay, baby, you’re okay. I’m here, you’re safe. Won’t let anything bad happen to my angel.” He whispers, and TJ just melts further.

TJ can’t imagine being more loved. Slowly, he dries his eyes and looks up at the older man. He smiles for what feels like the first time in a week, and is met with a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, TJ. Always.” Andy says, and the kiss that TJ gives him is nothing short of perfect.

you can also imagine TJ with Pete Brenner, and how much of a smutty trainwreck that would be. TJ would definitely call Pete daddy, and Pete would totally call TJ his bunny. They’d end up worse than they started, but I can’t stop thinking about how TJ would totally end up drunk/high out of his mind and pissed at Pete, storming into his office and exposing him to everyone.

“You just fucking wanted power, didn’t you, Daddy?!”

“TJ, this isn’t the time…”

“Fuck you!”

I know it’s a bit of a weird pairing, but it’s stuck in my head and now I’m gonna stick it in yours >:)

Hello again!

Oh. My. God.

I love this. I love both of these. A pairing for every fucking mood.

A comforting, loving (maybe even overprotective, nearly smothering sometimes, I'm looking at you, Andy 👀) pair.

And a train-wreck pair.

Andy would give TJ the best, best hugs when he's upset and in need of comfort--the kind of hugs that engulf TJ in warmth and come with an endless supply of soothing back rubs, that man is so empathetic he's basically just a big teddy bear. Plus, with Andy's (relatively) normal life (assuming this outside of or before the Defending Jacob timeline, lol), he's the breath of fresh air TJ needs. I bet they meet when TJ gets a DUI, maybe he injures himself or someone else in the car with him, nothing huge, just a mild crash that was his fault, and he needs a lawyer for. Andy is there. Andy is kind. Andy can see he didn't do it on purpose--he's just hurting, and he needs someone. It's frightening how badly Andy wants, no, needs to be that someone for this sweet kid.

Absolutely Pete would do TJ dirty, assisting him in his downward spiral, able to get him both money and drugs fast. Rapidly, TJ discovers more drugs and more vices to make him feel better, if only for a little while, all at Pete's insistence. Anything he wants, Pete can get him, no questions asked. Plus, they move fast as a couple, too; they meet during a night out, not knowing each others names before they're pushing and shoving their way into the sleazy club's bathroom with TJ on his knees in some filthy stall, then, that same night, TJ dismisses any lose security detail he had to go back to the apartment of this stranger, buzzed and high. His phone is dead. He doesn't care. And it's obvious that Pete doesn't either. It's reckless. It's intense. And it overpowers them both, unraveling completely.

Thank you for the thoughts!!

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Hi friend!

Honestly all your wonderful wips haunt my thoughts constantly lol, but for the wip ask game I’m going with Between Hope and Desperation! 💖💖💖

Friend! ❤️ I’m sorry it took so long for me to get this out, but it’s finally hereee! ✨

From the outside looking in, it would be easy to assume that Kaz Brekker had little experience with fear. That was done intentionally, of course— no Barrel boss worth their salt could be seen as some scared little boy. He’d done his best to seem only nominally human, let alone young, or…

Kaz’s jaw was clenched to the point of snapping as he looked up at the map on his office wall. Each blocked off section was assigned to a different group of dregs. Each tiny drawn house on the Geldstraat and pinned building of interest was under the careful eye and ear of a different spider.

Nobody just disappears, he reminded himself. And nobody in this city has enough of a brain to steal two crows without bragging.

Someone knows something. Someone will talk.

All Kaz had to do was have ears nearby enough to hear it.

In the meantime, he didn’t think the Slat had ever felt stranger.

It was bad enough, with Inej’s seat on the window sill so markedly vacant. Every time he considered himself to be adjusting to it, it seemed like something happened that reminded him that he didn’t have to leave the window open for her silent approach. At first, the irony really grated on his nerves— that the quietest, slightest person in his life would leave such a cavernous hollow of space behind.

Of course, those things weren’t Inej, though— were they? They were the skills she’d acquired to survive. The person he missed was her.

Now, though, with Jesper gone, too?

He supposed he could only expect that the gap Jesper left behind would suit the brash, dazzling, loud person he was.

But, honestly, he never expected Jesper to go missing at all. With Inej, freedom was always the intended goal— there was always, at least, a distant end planned for their partnership. He never liked it, but it was always there. Jesper was… different.

Jesper Fahey was in constant motion, maybe, but he was a whizbang— spiralling and burning out in wild shapes and colours, never moving too far from where he’d been lit. Kaz knew this. He’d picked it out long before he knew him, before he started to care. Back when he was just a destitute barrel rat with surprisingly good aim, scurrying to and from the gutters in the East Stave. Back when he was just another investment.

A tool. He was a tool never meant to leave Kaz’s toolbox.

The knee jerk sensation of missing a floorboard haunted his every other step when he remembered that Jesper wasn’t there. That the quiet was because Jesper wasn’t laughing, wasn’t filling the air with gunfire and useless chat, wasn’t starting a fight or flirting his way back into bed.

Sure, certain things that Kaz had taken for granted about his sharpshooter had changed recently— but, it wasn’t nearly the same as losing him entirely.

Kaz hadn’t slept in the two days since he and Nina had found the workshop. It seemed like all he ever did was wallow in the misery of the Slat, give orders, and stare at this bloody map.

Wylan drew this map, a voice in his head piped up traitorously— it sounded like Inej. Don’t forget about Wylan.

How could he ever forget about their runaway prince?

Thanks so much for playing! ❤️

[gerec]

director's cut an office affair!!!!! (still drown in my fem!Charles feelings

I just love this fic so much - the suffocating dynamic between Erik and Charli, the plot twist, and how you executed it. So it would also be the cherry on top if you could offer some ideas on what happens next (will they fall back into each other's orbit?? will Magda find out?

For An Office Affair:

Oh I'd nearly forgotten about this little fic :D So when I was writing this, I was maybe a bit inspired by Fassbender's role in Shame, thinking about what Erik would be like as a sex addict. I think you get a hint from his conversation with Shaw that this isn't the first time he's had an office affair, but all the other times things ended because the women thought that it was about more than just sex (it wasn't). BUT, I also think he's finally met his match with Charlie, and they are extremely compatible (sexually and otherwise) and he's caught himself a really bad case of the feels for his gorgeous PA lol. As for Magda - she definitely knows that he fools around behind her back and for her own reasons she chooses to turn a blind eye to it. She's probably expecting things with Charlie to end eventually too, but Erik is obsessed and Charlie is infatuated and the two of them are in this toxic spiral where they just keep ending things and then starting up again...

I don't really know how the story ends, other than the two of them continuing to lose themselves to each other at the expense of their relationships with their loved ones eek!

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[datmoongamer]

Some thoughts about my fascist Harry playthrough so far

TL;DR Microdosed fascism, fascist Harry is more interesting than moralist Harry, this is my third playthrough so I built for int/mot and made him more confident, logical, and authoritative.

I am... having a lot of fun on my fascist playthrough, third playthrough overall. First one was moralist, second one was a hardcore communist one that I haven't finished yet.

Playing Harry as someone who believes that a strong leader could return Revachol to its former glory. How the leader would go about doing it, he's not sure, he's just a random guy trying to do some good in the world. He's also not sure who the ex-something is, but he knows she's a she, and that she burned him bad, so he's bitter about women but not stupid enough to voice his thoughts aloud. 'Sides, inceldom seems like the natural course of action for him.

Can't go through with being racist, so I microdosed fascism. Said anti-communist stuff when it seemed acceptable, preached about the glory of Revachol, but I went for the "very cool but I have some questions about the murder case" option whenever race/immigration came up and (so far) dodged all the conversations about sex/gender/women.

High int and mot. I made him calculating, able to pick up on inconsistencies in people's statements. I miss the more esoteric skills and I miss hearing Volition yap at me, but the int and mot skills make up for Volition's silence. He can think his way out of most situations that would otherwise require Volition to wrangle the phy skills.

Superstar for fun but knows when to be the boring, serious cop. The superstar thing is a mindset he adopted to avoid spiraling entirely into despair. If he jazzes himself up this hard, he doesn't feel as bad about himself.

Rene is the only bearable fascist (so far, haven't reached Lena's racism deep lore yet or met Gary and his buddy). Measurehead and the Racist Lorry Driver are just... man. They're pieces of work. Rene says things like "Revachol is a shithole... good ol' days... I fought in the war..." and I can see how someone would get like that. You can't circlejerk with a fellow moralist because you're both apolitical but with Rene you can both be like "you're so fr... make Revachol great again... you... you get it..."

On my first playthrough, I was a moralist. I was so centrist that I didn't do the political vision quest because I thought "hmm that sounds political, not touching that lol." Even if I don't agree with fascism, trying to see how parts of it are feasible and applying them to a legitimate viewpoint I/Harry can push has been much more fun than saying "hmm I don't have an opinion on this."

Not a sorry cop this time. I apologized a lot in my first playthrough because Empathy kept telling me how badly I fucked up and Harry was a brand new fuck up to me. This time, I'm leaning into the superstar and boring cop persona. When I have some leeway to joke around and someone tells me what a piece of shit I am? Haha, that was me. Own up to it. When someone brings up my suicidal, violent tendencies? Acknowledged, let's move along.

Third playthrough Harry feels much less like a spineless, albeit good-hearted loser. This Harry is jaded and takes no shit from anyone. No cooperating with Evrart, it would be unseemly for a cop to do his dirty work. An NPC starts dissing him? He pushes for the information he needs and leaves, not his business. He'll joke around on the job with Kim and the interviewees, but his goal is always to walk out with the information he needs, and he's not afraid to exert his (nearly non-existent as a skill, so he does this through the insane pile of evidence he's building and invoking the title of RCM officer) authority when he needs to.

[fleet-off]

Find the Word

tagged by @raksh-writes

Rules: Share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you. (I was unclear on whether I should pull from my WIPs or my published work—but WIPs sounded more fun to me. ^^)

I got the words: satisfied, curve, freedom, memory, warmth. I had to manipulate the parts of speech a bit to find some of these in my WIPs lol.

satisfied from Body Bag: coming down from intense emotions and cathartic sex, Vegas and Pete tease each other about vampire roleplay.

“My blood in your mouth, feeding you? Yeah, Pete.” “Would have thought you’d rather play the predator,” Pete says. He laps at the oval of dark indents his teeth have left around Vegas’s pulse point. Vegas sighs with pleasure. “Lacks originality.” Pete laughs. Satisfaction tugs at the corners of Vegas’s eyes and lips; he presses a kiss into Pete’s smile.

curve from Lapping at the Edges: the opening to my poor unfinished chapter 3.

They curl up in bed like children sharing secrets in the dark, hair damp, foreheads nearly touching. Pete’s socked toes rest on Vegas’s calves. Vegas traces the curve of his cheek. “Were you worried?” he whispers. “Did you think I cheated?” Pete closes his eyes. “Of course I was worried about you, you’re a mess.”

freedom from Off the Handle: Vegas begins to spiral. (CW: suicide mention)

The thought consumes his days. Life used to come so cheap. Vegas made a business of stealing it from the family’s foes, traded countless unreliable henchmen, gambled freely with his own skin. Now there are two lives he can’t afford to lose, laid in his hands with nothing to support them if he fails. And if those lives decided to take themselves, Vegas would have no right to stop them.

memory from Breathing Space, my sci-fi AU: following capture by Tankhun and co, Pete rebels internally.

Pete cannot bring himself to delete them, yet. Because he is selfish, because he is rogue, because to be without the hands that wrecked him is an inconceivable thing—and thankfully they can’t watch yet, thankfully the equipment for that is back at the compound, thankfully it requires a specialized skillset to scrutinize the vast banks of Pete’s memory and extract data interpretable to the human mind. He will have Vegas to himself for a little longer, before his makers reduce him to the unwillingly whole and horribly empty machine he once was.

warm (I couldn’t pick one, so you get two!) from Body Bag: Pete recalls a time he failed to safeword and wound up begging Vegas to finish him off mid-scene (he’s pretty sure he didn’t mean it). (another CW for suicide mention. Do I have a preoccupation with death? Who can say.)

To have made Vegas unwilling to touch him, to make Vegas recoil when Pete slipped the ropes on his wrists and reached for his shoulder—the cold cracked him open and hollowed him like one of the frigid hells. This was before the warm towels and slow touches and all the ways they’ve learned to return from the brink together, so Vegas stumbled into the bathroom for a shower and Pete sat empty on the bed and then they laid there in sleepless silence until dawn’s pale colors seeped into their walls and Vegas asked him to save some rope or a bullet for him when he went. “You don’t need to feel bad, if you did mean it,” Vegas says now. “I understand.”

and from Stable Delusion: Vegas and Pete comfort each other following a nightmare.

He set a hand on Vegas’s chest, following the well-known paths of his ribs to settle on the knot of scar tissue just under his heart. Here, he could feel how Vegas’s breath hitched and then went deliberately even. Pete nosed up under his chin. Vegas smelled of warm skin, sour sweat, and the faintest whiff of metal. “Can talk if you need,” Pete mumbled, lips brushing the hollow of his throat. The way Vegas reached around to cradle his head was clumsy. His calluses snagged on the tangles in Pete’s hair and tugged at his scalp. Pete didn’t mind the sting; it seemed the logical price of being held in a lover’s claws. “Just a dream,” Vegas told him.

This was fun! Tagging @theflowergirl @luckydragon10 @giraffeter @rainbowcolored7 @vegaseatsass @sunshinesanctuary @saturnskyline and anybody else who wants to share. My words for you are: fond, ache, texture, blue, delight.

[cielsosinfel]

I'm on the final/true route of SlowDamage so here are my thoughts, after playing each route months apart. You will notice that my thoughts are mainly lukewarm-to-negative... The LIs in this game were very underwhelming for me :/ Meanwhile, the actual overarching plot is probably the most engaging of any N+C game I've played so far (DMMD and Togainu no Chi, so not much.) So I'm gonna complete it for the plot, and hope the True route LI sparks something in me, but mostly... These characters aren't making me crazy the way Keisuke. Motomi, Koujaku or Clear did......😔

(CW for noncon and incest, as well as spoilers! obviously)

I'm gonna start off with the two side fucks first because they're the ones I have the most positive things to say about lol. Not gonna talk about the plot important non-LI sex scenes though, because I barely remember the details now.

KOUTAROU: Honestly found his sex scene very hot. He has a very fun personality! He's really buddy-buddy with Towa and so casual and flippant about offering to fuck him, and then the way he uses him as like Towa's a mindless hole... I think this works for me because there is 0 emotional attachment in this relationship and no expectation of one developing, so Towa's lack of emotional reaction wasn't something I was annoyed by. The fact Towa is left unconscious and doesn't even get to come </3 It's what he deserves!!

MAYU: This absolutely was not sexy but it was very cute, completely unexpected lol I would honestly go for a full-length Mayu route. Towa needing to come to terms that he has ~feelings~ for a complete nerd who forces cosplay sex on him without any negotiation... Mayu should force him to be his date to Comiket to do OTP cosplay together <3 Also Mayu cuddling up to his body pillow as soon as he comes, leaving Towa sitting there in his bed still in a wig. I love him.

Taku: had really high hopes for the sole DILF but he was just too nice! too caring! too gentle and virginal! ended up really wanting to ship Taku AND Towa with Toono instead.🤪wanting to ship an LI with a side character in a multi-romance-route VN is truly its own hell... And they set up Towa being forced to crossdress and go on a date with Tooono but went nowhere with it?? But with Taku, what they gave us of his past with Toono, all of the blackmail and guilt built into the relationship, REALLY got to me... i would play a game focused on their toxic downward spiral, tbh

Taku's bad end did nothing for me either, I think it veered too far from his established personality without enough build-up. All and all just kind of a disappointment.

Madarame: SEXY... TO A POINT.... Honestly, I've complained about this a lot, but part of my issue with Slow Damage's porn aspects is that Towa is /too/ into everything. They hammer home that he loves to be abused, he gets off on being raped, he barely emotionally reacts to anything around him because he just can't bring himself to /care/. Unless he's being hurt, and then he's horny. But I'm reading N+C BL precisely because I want whumpable pretty boys being violently used and abused while they cry!!! I want that hurt/comfort whump noncon porn!!!!! It doesn't have nearly the same flavor if the protagonist either likes everything because he's the ultimate masochist, or isn't phased by anything happening to him...

So the Madarame route opens with Towa actually being scared, possibly for the first time in the game, and I was like yes! yes! we're getting somewhere!!! This is the kinky whump I expect from an N+C game!

And Madarame's route should be everything I want... There's confinement with a leash and collar by a violent, much bigger yandere top, there's forced humiliating petplay, there's caretaking/bathing kink, there's eye socket penetration... But after Madarame's kidnapped Towa, and both Towa and the reader have gotten comfortable in the new direction the route is taking, Towa stops being afraid and stops caring. And Madarame doesn't exactly have much emotional depth either, as a character. Honestly I can't even really remember how his endings go at this point. I did like the idea of the bad ending, where Towa joins Madarame in taking over the Takasato-gumi together. That felt like it made way more sense for Madarame than the good ending did lol

Ultimately this route ended up with me also wanting to ship Towa with a side character... one we don't even see on screen once... (his brother lol)

Rei: honestly rei's everything pissed me off too much and i will not even bother ranting about it again. not good!

TL;DR I went in wanting Towa to fuck Sakaki and however-many-hours later, I STILL want Towa to fuck Sakaki out of every character. Let the sexy sexy middle-aged crime boss desperately trying to be your father replacement bend you over his desk, Towa!!! Embrace the daddy issues!!!!!!!!!!