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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

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also on ao3

(cw: tics, bullying)

Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.

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

'S just a shiver, I'm fine.

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

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

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

They got worse.

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

That year, he became the freak.

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

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

His tics got worse.

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

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

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

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

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

And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This one goes here, right?

Yeah.

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

It's okay. It's okay.

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

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

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

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

Steve kisses him.

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

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

Steve just says, Mine too.

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

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happi-tree · 5 months

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⚔️👑 shield and scepter 👑⚔️

Howdy, y'all! So my wonderful mutual @raemeh did this really cool fanart of my royalty Swiftli au (the fic for which can be found here), and I had some little design ideas about them in my wips, so I thought I'd post the two of them here! Thank you so much to everyone who's enjoyed it <333

#i also have a silly little au playlist that cookies and sei helped out with if folks are interested!#anyway. absolutely FLOORED that people enjoyed this silly little fic i impulse-wrote. it was so very highly self indulgent sdkjbkjadbfs #but good news! i think i'm probably going to write more of it :D my silly little knight and my silly little prince <333 #also hope you don't mind the tag stingrae!!!#also also. ik there's a lot of fantasy/storybook dndads stuff going on #so if u like this kind of concept but also prefer other ships like say... marloakworthy... lovesong... gun control... nudges u to eah au #<- by the lovely kaseykat llumimoon and rindomness on here btw!!! feat. rin and nyx's kickass writing and cal and rin's kickass designs!!!#okokok enough blabbing i just. LOVE all the fucking storybook shenanigans this fandom has going on rn 🥰🥰🥰#dndads #swiftli #shield and scepter #<- yeah i caved. made an au tag. what of it #happi doodles #happi rambles

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karalovesallthegirls · 2 years

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time travel + I didn’t mean to turn you on

hello my love thank you for your request I wrote a bunch solely because I'm in love with you

Life is nothing if not consistent for Lena Luthor. She wakes at the same hour every single day, does an hour of stretches and exercise, eats the same egg white omelet. She’s the first to the office and the last to leave. Every moment is structured and accounted for, allowing Lena maximum control and regulation. Just the way she likes it.

And then, one day as she was stretching deep into a downward dog, her new life path came crashing down through her crystal glass coffee table.

One moment she’s thinking about the meeting she has in an hour and the next she’s flinching away from a spray of glass raining down overhead. She curls in on herself with a yelp, terrified and frozen at the sudden explosion beside her. After the clattering of glass had stopped, she’s left in dead silence. With a deep breath for confidence, she finally works up the nerve to look.

Collapsed over the metal frame of what had been her table lay some woman she had never seen before in her life, knocked out and bleeding all over her Persian rug.

Lena feels herself clicking into survival mode at the sight of her. She’s always been good at that – surviving. No one can keep a clearer head in a crisis than Lena. The initial fear now replaced with adrenaline and clarity, Lena jumps into action. Years of Pilates and daily weight-lifting aides her as she pulls the bloody woman off the twisted frame, dragging her over to her yoga mat. The woman is out cold.

She’s got glass stuck in all kinds of places, the worst of which seems to be a long, jagged piece stuck in her thigh. Lena knows better than to try and pull that one out, so she instead focuses on tying her sweatshirt around the woman’s thigh to try and stave the bleeding. It looks like it might be in a dangerous spot, possibly close to an artery, and the last thing Lena needs is some home invader dying on her living room floor. The press would have a field day with that.

While working to stabilize the rush of bleeding from her thigh, Lena shouted out, “HOPE, call emergency services.” HOPE, her omnipresent homemade helper, replied back from the speaker located just above. “Yes, Miss Luthor. Police, fire, or EMT?”

“EMT and pol-” she’s cut off by two hands on her at once: one covering her mouth forcefully and the other pressing a large glass chunk to her throat right at the jugular vein. She freezes.

Apparently, the unconscious intruder was more conscious than she thought. “Tell her to cancel it,” the woman says with a hoarse, pained voice. Lena watches her with a calculating eye, weighing her option. If she didn’t respond to HOPE in the next few moments, she knew her virtual assistant would call the police automatically. “It’ll take them, what, 5 minutes to get here? Maybe 10 with traffic. You’ll bleed out in seconds and I’ll be long gone before they even get close,” the woman says, “Nobody has to die today, okay? Cancel it.”

Her mind reels for alternatives, but the woman presses the glass harder against her throat, hard enough to cut, and her mind is made up. She nods, and hesitantly the other woman removes her hand from her mouth. “Cancel request, HOPE,” Lena says, voice surprisingly steady for someone in such a situation. “Request successfully cancelled,” HOPE chirped happily before shutting off.

The other woman sighs, the glass held to Lena’s neck slacking just a bit as she leans backwards. Lena can feel the way it pulls at her skin, how blood starts to trickle. She keeps her hands where they’ve been this entire time – pressing hard around the glass in the woman’s thigh. She’s bleeding a lot, even with the pressure Lena’s applying. “That was foolish,” Lena says, pulling away from the woman. “The EMT was for you. You’re bleeding too much too quickly, I think you nicked your femoral artery.” The woman laughs, laid back eyes closed like she’s not invading her house and threatening her life. “That’s right, you had medical training. I forgot about that,” the other woman says, pulling herself up into a half-sit and looking down at her injuries with a curious eye. “In my defense, they barely mention that in the history books.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The woman just shakes her head.

“What day is it?” she asks. Lena is tired of this already. She’s supposed to be showering right now and preparing to leave for work, not negotiating with a half-dead possible hostage-taker. “Tuesday. March 13th.”

“What year?” “Is that a joke?” “Yeah,” the woman smiled, a hint of blood on her teeth. “Humor me.” “2018.”

The smile fades fast, replaced with a sudden alarm. As if the year were somehow worse than the giant piece of glass sticking from her thigh. “That’s way too early,” she says, hints of panic in her voice. “They dropped me way too far back. Crap.”

Her face looks pale and grows paler by the minute. Lena looks down to see the cloth she’d tied around her thigh fully saturated, the puddle beneath her growing. She’s losing too much blood. “Put the glass down and give me your hands,” Lena says, but the woman doesn’t move. Frustrated, Lena grabs her hands with her bloody ones and presses them just above the glass. “Hold here,” she says, and then gets up to leave.

Lena races to her bathroom, ignoring the woman’s shout of “Wait! Come back here!” and rifles around until she finds what she’s looking for. She comes back with a field medic kit and lays it on the ground. The other woman watches her wearily, hands still pressed to the wound. “You’re bleeding too fast,” Lena says, “and at this point you’ll be dead before the ambulance can arrive. We have to stop the bleeding.”

The woman doesn’t resist. At this point she might not have the strength to. Lena uses shears to cut up the seam of the the the woman’s pants, up and past the deep gash of the glass shard. “This is bad,” she says, and the woman doesn’t even look. “It’s too early,” the woman is saying, sounding weak, and Lena pulls supplies from her kit. She ties a tight tourniquet, earning a shocked groan of pain. “This is temporary, it can only be temporary. It should buy you a little time but it’s going to hurt like hell and if it’s on too long you could lose the leg.” “Fine, it’s fine,” the other woman says, almost delirious, and she grabs Lena’s shirt to pull her attention. “Listen to me,” she says, eyes wide and bloodshot, “Your brother is going to destroy the world, and you’re going to help him. But you don’t have to. You don’t have to help him, okay?” She’s practically incoherent. The blood has stopped but it’s still everywhere and Lena is covered in it. “They’re calling me,” the woman continues, shaking her head, “I’ll come back, or they’ll send someone else, but you have to stop him, Lena Luthor. Non Nocere-”

And then she vanishes.

One minute, Lena is wrapped around a delirious, halfway bled-out home invader, and the next she’s alone in her living room surrounded by glass and blood.

- She’s much more prepared the next time the stranger comes. To her credit, she’s had a few years by then to obsess and analyze and research. She’s watched the security footage of that day so many times and in such excruciating detail that she could tell you how many pieces of glass were shattered, how many gasps the intruder let out in pain. She could recite the entire five-minute experience from start to finish with perfect accuracy. Yet she could never explain it.

She can infer the basic gist of it, of course: at some point, time travel becomes a possibility, and the best possible use of that unbelievable advancement is to come back and stop her, because something she does – or rather, something she helps Lex do – is so catastrophically horrible it’s world ending.

She’s tried to find this woman, though of course if she’s a time traveler she may not even exist yet. There’s no way to know. Lena’s spent months studying the footage she has of her, noting the militaristic jumpsuit she wore, the strange patches for organizations that don’t seem to exist adorning the sleeve. She’s made note of the scars she can see – the long one that dances down her face, the smaller ones made visible when her pant leg was cut. The woman had clearly endured hell in life, and that hell had led her to Lena’s penthouse. She felt a sick nervousness just thinking about how they might link.

All of that to say, Lena is much more prepared when the woman returned, at least on an intellectual level. She’s not so prepared for the woman to show up as she’s sitting post-shower on her bed in nothing but a silk robe.

One minute she’s sitting alone, the next a woman is crashing on top of her. Their heads bonk together hard at the force of it, Lena reeling back against her pillow with a groan. At least she’s a softer landing than glass and metal.

“Ah crap,” the woman says, and there’s an instant spark of excitement in Lena at just the sound of her voice. She’d listened to that tape so many times it’s burned into her psyche but hearing it now in person after so long – absolutely thrilling.

“Thank you for not breaking any furniture this time,” Lena says, and her voice is a bit breathy from the rush of it. The other woman pulls up from where she’d collapsed against her and seems to finally realize where she is and just how little Lena actually has on. She practically flings herself off of her and on to the floor with a shout.

“Oh wow,” the woman says, mouth agape and face beet red. “I- I’m so sorry, there’s no way to know what you’ll be doing when I get here and I just, I didn’t realize you weren’t done getting dressed or… that wasn’t… I’ll just-”

“Wait in the hallway?” Lena asks, amused. This version of the stranger is such a funny leap from the way she was all those years before, yet exactly the same. It’s like she hadn’t aged much at all. “I was finishing my bedtime routine and I sleep naked. This is as dressed as I’ll be the rest of the night.”

Somehow, the woman’s face gets even redder. It reminds Lena of the blood from that day, how dark and covering it had been on her. That takes a bit of wind out of her sails.

“How’s the leg?” she asks, sitting back. She can feel her robe fall open slightly but left it be. It's amusing to see how nervously the other woman’s eyes dart around looking everywhere but her.

“Still sore,” the woman finally says, pulling herself up to sit on the end of Lena’s bed. She glances at her and then looks away. “It’s only been a few weeks for me, so it’s not close to healed yet, but I didn’t lose the leg or my life, thanks to you.” “Glad to hear it.” “Are you?”

“Mmhm. If you’d died that day, I wouldn’t have this chance now to ask you what the hell is going on.” The woman is watching her in a strange sort of way, and it seems to take her a moment to clear her throat and mind.

“Right, yes, that makes sense. I just-” she rubs her eyes, laughing in an embarrassed sort of way. “I’m sorry, you’re just a little distracting.” Her eyes stray along the line of Lena’s robe before jerking away. She stands up and moves away, hands ringing nervously. Lena notices the slight limp to her walk. “Crap, I’m sorry. Okay, focus, Kara, focus,” she coaches herself, and Lena latches on to that morsel of information with a fierce excitement. “Yes, Kara,” she drawls, and the woman’s eyes cut sharply to her. “Focus. Tell me who you are and what I can do to help.” Kara gulps noticeably at her tone, shifting on her legs, before saying, “I’m from the future. 40 years in the future, to be exact, and I was sent back in time to stop you and your brother from destroying the world.” Lena nods along. It’s not so unbelievable, the idea that Lex could destroy the world. That he could use her desperate yearning for connection to make her a willing accomplish. “Non Nocere,” she says, and the woman jolts in surprise. “What? That’s – have you already invented it?” “No, but you said that last time we met.”

Kara visibly deflates, sinking into a sigh as she leaned back against the wall.

“Thank Rao, okay. Yes. It shouldn’t exist yet, not for another year.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the tool your brother uses to destroy the world. You build it for him.”

Kara looks heartbroken as she says it, and Lena feels just the same hearing it. All she’s ever wanted to do is be a force for good despite her family, despite the life they’d set up for her, but here is this scarred, scared stranger come back to tell her how horribly she fails. How she destroys everything.

“Okay,” Lena says. “So how do we stop it?”

And that, at least, earns her a smile.

#i also wrote a lot because as previously discussed through text like twenty minutes ago i forgot to take my medicine today #and my brain has hyper fixated on this story rather than the notes and work I should be doing during my break #:D #mine #trope mashup #supercorp #I was tempted to go the time travelers wife route since we just hate-watched it but honestly my favorite time traveler concept #will always be terminator #so its more of that #anyway!!!!!!!!!! love ya

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j3nnix · 5 days

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my girl!!!1!(๑˃ ᴗ ˂๑)

#I wrote things on the back of the page so it looks like rin has three freckles on her face xDD #I ALSO CHANGED MY SIGNATURE!!! I like it a lot :D #vocaloid #vocaloid fanart #fanart #vocaloid kagamine rin #kagamine rin #traditional art #chibi style

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yuffi369 · 8 months

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Co-DM

P03 x GN!Reader

In which P03 realizes that, for as much crap as he's talked about for you not appreciating his game design, you may actually know what you're talking about, sometimes.

Since you'd managed to keep a back-up of Inscryption's files after... everything, P03 had managed to worm his way onto your computer system's drive. At first, he acted a lot more maliciously; accessing permissions to just about everything, your webcam, your microphone, any files... he looked through just about everything, and began to make moves to even take over your computer entirely.

You were smart, though. You'd managed to get to where the backup copy of Inscryption and all of its files were, and upon threat of deletion, he cooperated. He agreed to only hang around your computer and not tamper with any of your files, or compromise your computer's integrity, but he still wanted to hang around. You didn't mind this for two reasons; one, it did seem rather cruel to keep him locked up in the files with nothing to do, and two, you didn't mind the company anyhow, seeing as most of your friends were over long distance.

One evening, you'd decided to get some work done on a campaign you were running for your friends. The game was in two weeks, so you had plenty of prep time, but there were some maps you had to make, encounters to plan, and you had to figure out some plot ahead of where they were going. The next session would be taken up in the first half by traveling, so it was mostly technical things like potential encounters, which was probably your least favorite part of game writing. You didn't hate any part, necessarily, but your strong suit lied in the story parts.

You were so lost in your struggling thoughts, staring at the VTT interface with a stumped expression, you almost forgot P03 was there. "Hey, idiot, you going to move the mouse, or are you going to let the computer screen fall asleep?"

You blinked rapidly, sitting up straight. "Huh?" You looked down at the tiny P03, who was staring at you as he stood on top of your task bar. "No, I was just thinking."

"What're you even doing, anyway?" he asked, looking at the grid on the screen.

"Writing encounters for my next game session," you replied, scrolling through another webpage you had open where you had access to stat blocks available to you.

"You write games?" he said, incredulously.

"Oh, right, I haven't had a session since you've come around and started living rent-free on my desktop."

"What do you want me to do for money, use your graphics card for crypto mining?"

"No," you replied, curtly.

"Anyway, given your criticisms about my game design, I didn't think you knew a thing about game design." He crossed his arm over his body, rolling his eyes.

"This isn't exactly a card game," you replied. "It's a tabletop roleplaying game. It's based on war gaming, with roleplaying added in. So it's a mixture of tactical gaming and story-based gaming. Not quite a card game like Inscryption."

"Interesting," he replied.

He continued to watch you work- or, well, the more accurate words would be struggle to work. You tried, several times, to put down tokens on the map, only to take them back off after a few minutes of deliberation. Sick of watching you struggle, P03 hovered up to your cursor, dragging it around to get your attention. "Hurry up. I'm sick of the ambient work music you've had in the background for the last hour."

"Sorry, P," you sighed, genuinely feeling a bit bad that he'd watched you do basically nothing this entire time. "I'm not exactly the best at planning encounters..."

"Lemme help, then. Pull up the webpage with the stat blocks."

"Fine. But aren't you programmed to write for Inscryption, not this?"

"I'm a fast learner." He scrolled through the webpage, looking through the stat blocks. After looking over a few stat blocks, he pulled up a stat block for an undead creature, that had an interesting mechanic. "Here. This should keep your players from falling asleep."

You took one look at the stat block and shook your head. "No. I can't use that."

He looked at you with exasperation. "Well why the f#%& not?" he said, the little beep censoring his cursing through the speakers.

"Those are undead creatures," you explained, using your cursor to point at the stat block's creature type. "They're just traveling through grasslands. I can't justify a random group of these just showing up out of the blue."

"I dunno what to tell you. This stat block's probably your best bet for an interesting mechanic that's low-level enough to not kill your players. Maybe have them, I dunno, take a shortcut through a graveyard, or whatever."

"Shortcut through a graveyard..." you repeated, under your breath. After a brief moment, you bolted upright in your seat, pulling up your document and beginning to write at an accelerated pace. P03 probably clocked you at about 90 WPM at your fastest. Once you were satisfied with the narrative text you'd written out for yourself to read upon arrival to the location, you pulled up the VTT and began placing things all around the map, taking your time to make sure things were placed in logical, good-looking locations, making sure to add terrain in places for your rogue to hide behind and take advantage of. Finally, you put the group of undead creatures on the hidden layer to pull up later, and then typed out what loot was to be found in the graveyard as well as on the bodies of the creatures.

Once you were satisfied with your work, you leaned back in your chair, gazing upon the zoomed-out map with pride. "Wow," P03 let out a whistle-like beep, looking at the map with you. "Once you got started, that only took, what? An hour? I would've been able to make the fight really easy, but all that other stuff probably would've taken me the better part of an afternoon."

"Well, I mean, it does take me a while to write something good. But when inspiration hits, I sort of just... go, and don't stop. But I don't have those moments often, or at least not enough for my liking."

P03 turned and glared at you. "Take the damn compliment."

You laughed. "Alright, alright, geez. Thank you."

"Now, let's celebrate with a movie." He pulled up a window with a video player, ready to play the file.

You raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get that?"

"Downloaded it off yarhar.net while you were writing."

"P!"

"What? I scanned it for viruses, it's clean. What do you want me to do, pay for Netflix? With what money?"

You just laughed, shaking your head. "Let me go make some popcorn."

"And I'll... pull up a jpeg of popcorn, I guess."

#p03 #p03 x reader #inscryption #inscryption p03 #you guys liked the last one a lot so have another!! this time more modern/realism #this can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh but i'd like to think of it as 'roommates to lovers'-esque #inspired by the fact that i could feel p03 shimeji judging me as i wrote for my d&d game today lololol #also tried my best to keep the ttrpg unnamed so that it could be system agnostic #petition for p03 to Get a Damn Job

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dumbificat · 7 months

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Kaveh - caring for you when ill

Tw- mentions of vomit at the start

Pre-established relationship, gn reader (no pronouns used, just “you”)

You woke up late, feeling very ill - you promptly threw up in the bathroom.

Your boyfriend, Kaveh, heard you in the bathroom and quickly rushed to your side, rubbing your back and making sure you were finished before moving you back to bed.

You could barely speak to explain your symptoms - upset stomach, headache, fever, sore throat, aching muscles and a cold.

You had no clue how you got this ill but the only thing to do now was to recover.

After learning of your ailments, Kaveh left the bedroom but quickly returned with a cold wet cloth, some water and some extra blankets.

With the wet cloth on your forehead, extra blankets near you and having promised to take small sips of the water, Kaveh left again, this time to find a doctor.

In the time it took for him to return, you had taken a small nap and woke up feeling a little less groggy but still just as ill.

The doctors examines your condition and prescribed some medicinal herbs for your recovery. Kaveh held your hand the entire time.

When the doctor leaves, he makes sure the medicinal herbs are doing their job but has to reluctantly leave you again to do his job.

He moves the cloth and places a loving kiss on your forehead, whispering promises of checking up on you soon and apologies for leaving again.

That promise is fulfilled.

Very quickly, in fact. Kaveh isn’t one for taking breaks during work, but for you he’s peeking back into your shared room every 5 mins.

He doesn’t get much work done that day but as the sun begins to set, he decides it’s about time to make a meal for you both.

He prepares a warm soup, a bit on the lighter side but he doesn’t even know if you can keep it down.

He will spoon-feed you, if you complain about being babied he’ll just argue that you can barely hold the spoon (which is true…)

You do manage to keep the soup down, and now having eaten, you’re ready to sleep again but this time with Kaveh beside you.

He climbs into bed and wraps you up in his arms, peppering your face with kisses.

You try to stop him so he doesn’t get ill too but he wants you to know that even when you’re sick, you’re still beautiful in his eyes.

You both fall asleep soon after, wrapped up in each other’s love.

Al Haitham sighs and shakes his head when he sees Kaveh laying in bed sick a few days after you’d recovered. He seems disappointed, yet gives Kaveh an extra week to pay rent since he’s out of commission for the time being.

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated. I hope you enjoyed, please let me know if you did or if you have any ideas or suggestions for more （╹◡╹）♡

#whoops I wrote a lot #dumbi #dumbificat #dumbi’s headcanons #dumbi’s imagines #Genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #Genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #kaveh #kaveh headcanons #kaveh imagines #kaveh x reader #alhaitham #al haitham #:d

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dootznbootz · 2 months

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There's something really fascinating about how Athena treats Diomedes so differently from how treats Penelope and Odysseus (even Telemachus but that's a lil different too)

Athena has basically known Diomedes since he was born (some even say that she had a say in naming him) because of Tydeus. I don't think it's far-fetched to say that in a way, she possibly "molded" him. And Diomedes is kind of known for being the "perfect warrior king". He's respectful of the gods and most of his comrades, an incredibly skilled soldier, and has already achieved so many things despite being one of the youngest kings in the war.

I sadly think that's why Athena treats him so differently than Odysseus, Penelope, and Telemachus.

She cares for him, but it's still "distant" in a way. Or almost in an "I molded you. You will react the way I would want you to therefore I will not be surprised."

When it seems like she's known her other favored mortals for less long, she didn't get to "mold" them. They surprise and bring something "new" for her. She sees her little tricksters' scheme and plot and watches with intrigue but watching the perfect warrior is a "Yes, perfect form. That's what I'd do."

I mean even how her favored mortals pray to her tells you a lot about the relationships they have.

For example, in the Iliad, Odysseus doesn't need to really give as much reverence to her to "earn her favor" during book 10's Night Raid.

Odysseus rejoiced, and prayed to Pallas Athene: ‘Hear me, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus, you who are with me in all my adventures, protecting me wherever I go. Show me your love, Athene, now, more than ever, and grant we return to the ships having won renown, with some brave act that will grieve the Trojans greatly.’ And Diomedes of the loud war-cry followed him in prayer: ‘Hear me also, Atrytone, daughter of Zeus. Be with me as you were with my father Tydeus in Thebes, when he went there as ambassador for the bronze-greaved Achaeans, camped there by the Asopus. A friendly offer was what he made them, but on his way back he was forced to take deadly reprisal for their ambush, and you fair goddess, readily stood by him. Stand by me now, and watch over me, and in return I will offer a broad-browed yearling heifer, unused to the yoke. I will tip her horns with gold and sacrifice her to you.’

(Book 10, A.S. Kline)

Diomedes brings up his dad and offers a young heifer (granted that could just be how Diomedes is with every immortal) while Odysseus doesn't and is basically like "Yo, help me out like you always do!". Odysseus is much more casual and personal with Athena. And with Penelope, Athena takes the form of one of her sisters to comfort her!

While Athena also most likely has known Telemachus since he was a baby, she's still closer to him than Diomedes.

Imagine that. You're basically molded by a goddess since birth, listen to her and other immortals dutifully, basically become her perfect warrior, and yet you can't seem to reach that familiarity with her. The same warmth she has for her other favored mortals.

#idk I'm eepy and this came to me and I felt bad for Diomedes.#Athena has a extreme soft spot for her tricksters.#Penelope is favored by Athena as well. I will fight you on that. (she should be favored by everyone in general but you know)#I wrote this very quick :P you get the idea #I've been working on my fic a lot so I haven't been making many analysis' so I'm sorry for that :'D #diomedes #iliad #the iliad #this probably means nothing but I wanted to talk abou tit #shot by odysseus #athena #When you're still Athena's Blorbo but not the most blorbo😞#Mad rambles #tagamemnon #greek mythology #fuck it. I'll put it in all tags for folks to see.

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elizabethrobertajones · 4 months

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Zero had been right; she'd found Dzemael Darkhold on a map without even knowing what she pointed at, and truth was finally something Frog could hunt for.

No more being haunted by who the avatar was bound to her, bound to this stone or her scythe or her very soul. No more brief glimpses in the heat of combat of the world from the reaper's eyes. The whisper of a name long-forgotten until she'd burst into the glorious light of Etheirys to fight alongside Frog.

No more guilt after meeting Zero and learning the truth of Zenos' avatar. Of feeling the first clench in her stomach to think that voidsent were no more monsters than the Light-poisoned people she'd cried for on the First. Drusilla said it was consensual, the voidsent certainly hungered for exactly what Frog put her to work doing. She'd felt that hunger, but also the excitement, the glee that her avatar burst with as she clawed out of the void and along the blade of Frog's scythe. But Frog had living weapons aplenty. This was a person.

The summoning could only be brief, long enough to assuage her soul, and make contact but it was a perfect summoning. No vessel, no statue. Not with Frog's soul and her connection to the avatar. The words of the spell Y'shtola had crafted. The aether Frog would freely offer to make this contact.

Her heart felt heavy that Zero had left, that she wouldn't be here to see the end result of their hard work. A tiny hope flared that perhaps she could use this time to guide her avatar to Zero's side. Send a message. Perhaps do this summoning again when she had strength to spare.

But only if the avatar wanted to run messages between shattered shards, because she was a person.

Frog forced herself to concentrate, clear her mind, and ready herself.

As she spoke the words, she felt the drifting tendrils of void magic that had made this cave so uninhabitable, had resisted an attempt to wall them up and still to this day spawned demons that repelled attempts to tame the depths. The darkness twisted, slithered up from the chasms, and burned and burned, pulling at her core, winding out the aether to feed the small rift. To reach deep into the void, and tug at something.

Darkness overwhelmed the cavern, and a thunderclap echoed through the tunnels, rolling on and on in a dazing reverberation. The dark aether flooded around her and Frog steeled herself not to cringe back, to know she was ready to slay any horror that came ravening out in the seconds she so foolishly smashed walls that had only been as sturdy as the Dzemael stonemason's brickwork between Source and Thirteenth.

A presence joined her.

"FROG? Is that YOU? Why aren't we FIGHTING?" squeaked a voice at her knee, as the portal spluttered, its harvest complete.

"Franci?! Is that you?"

"You got a PROBLEM with that?"

"I - I expected..." She trailed off, and decided not to say what she had expected. She'd given Ardbert enough grief for being waist height after all. "Why are you dressed like a farmer?"

"I WAS a farmer. Oh! I didn't know I was a farmer until I said that. HEY I remember who I aM. WOW. What did you DO?"

"... You're also a lot louder than I expected. Uh. Let's sit down and talk, Franci."

"I have a NAME. WOOOW."

(this post is titled: In Which Frog Discovers Her Very Loud Annoying Shard)

#ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #6.5 spoilers #gpose #bounding frog #this post brought to you by the kick in the pants that lore confirming your reaper avatar is maybe your shard is canon #.... idk how Golbez figures into this... souls are weird though #ANYWAY meet Franci :D #I knew what she looked like as soon as I thought about who the reaper avatar had been as a person #took me a while to narrow the lore down :P #she was in no way a fighter in life #but she's bonded well enough with Frog it's a sort of combat feedback loop and all she needs is to go beastmode #and she contains a LOT of oomph in a tiny package #i wrote this #my stuff

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cerise-on-top · 4 months

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Haiii! I love your work :D

Could you possibly do a gaz x reader? When him and reader are celebrating their anniversary:), that would be really cute :’))

Hello! Thank you, I hope this is enjoyable as well! I went with a more fluffy route this time, I just wanna see Gaz happy and healthy and as far aways from any and all danger as possible! This request was really cute, I love Gaz! I'm glad there are several of us who do! Though I think I went a bit overboard with this, but how could I not when people are requesting best boi!

Celebrating Your Anniversary with Gaz

For the sake of this request, we’re gonna go with the idea that Gaz was able to be with you during your anniversary and didn’t end up being somewhere in the world, having to fight tooth and nail for his survival. We’re gonna go the fluffy route with this!

His memory is really good, Gaz would never forget something as important as your anniversary. Doesn’t matter if you’re together, doesn’t matter if you’re married. He has it memorized, he wrote it down on his phone, he noted it on several loose papers lying around just about anywhere. Trust me when I say he’s the last person to ever forget something like this. Although he would appreciate it if you remembered as well, he’d probably love it even more if, just once, you forgot about your anniversary, that way he could properly surprise and absolutely spoil you rotten. He wants to make your anniversaries days you can remember, so he will tailor them to your liking. You like going to arcades or amusement parks? A bookshop date? You just wanna go to McDonald’s? It’s all yours, and don’t you dare even think about paying, your wallet will not be strained on such a holy and sublime day.

The day would start off simple. You’d sleep in, if you can, cuddling for as long as possible, until one of you needs to get up for whatever reason. He’ll nuzzle into you, holding you as close to him as possible. He wants you to feel his warmth, how alive you make him feel, he wants you to feel how his heart beats for you and only you. Gaz has a beautiful voice, it’s fairly low and very calming to listen to. He’d hum your favorite tune that’s a bit calmer. He wants you to be as relaxed for him as possible, maybe even fall asleep in his arms again, even if he definitely wouldn’t mind you staying up to chat a bit with him as well. He’s gonna be all over you, making sure to touch you wherever he can so you feel secure with him. And when you’re drifting off to sleep again, that’s when his plan begins.

Gaz will plant a kiss on your neck or your forehead, whatever he can reach as he excuses himself to the bathroom. However, this sly dog will actually head for the kitchen to make you some breakfast. He’s a good cook, so whatever it is you like, he’ll make it. French toast? Scrambled eggs? Eggs and bacon? Your wish is his command, even if you never uttered a single order. He just hopes you won’t wake up or, even if you do, will at the very least stay in bed. This breakfast isn’t for you to enjoy in the kitchen or the living room, you’re to eat it in your bed. He even got you a nice tray so he can carry it to you without making a mess. Orange juice and all. You will be spoiled.

It’s then that he’ll wake you with another soft kiss to your temple, maybe shaking you awake a bit, so you can enjoy your breakfast together. Might even feed you a bit, just to be embarrassingly cute while he’s at it. The more content you look, the better. Afterwards, he’ll leave for the kitchen again, putting the tray away and decorating the living room a bit. There will be the most gorgeous roses you’ve ever seen in a vase, alongside several other flowers, each of which tells of a different kind of adoration. And when you finally follow suit and spot the flowers, he’ll just smile and claim that they looked very pretty. If you understand flower language, then you can tell he just really wanted to say he loved you in as many different ways as he could.

It’s then that he’ll ask you to get ready for the day, to brush your teeth and hair, and put on some clothes. You don’t need to look particularly fancy, he wants you to be as comfortable as you could possibly be. This is when he’ll take you to a place you like which, as mentioned before, could be just about anything. Waterpark, roller skate rink or just a lovely walk in the park, he’s open for everything. You will be accommodated accordingly. Those places are where you’ll be spending the majority of your day, grabbing something simple to eat for the time being, such as some fries or maybe some toast at a good cafe or pub.

When day meets night, he’ll take your hand in his, taking you to a fancy restaurant you’ve been to a few times. Preferably one where the both of you can look down at the city and see all the beautiful lights it has to offer. You’ll spend another two hours or so there. At the very least, you’ll be there until it gets dark, eating good food, having a good drink, maybe some wine as well. It doesn’t matter what you choose, all Gaz wants is to see the twinkling city lights dance in your eyes afterwards. When the evening is starting to roll over into night, he’ll take you to a ferris wheel. A big one where you can see the entire city from.

He’ll watch you as you excitedly look everywhere, taking in as many sights as you can, hoping that the ferris wheel stops at just the right time. Ideally, that would be right at the top. But he won’t be too picky if it’s somewhat to the side as well. As long as he gets to see your mouth agape at all the pretty lights, he’s content. While the ferris wheel stops, he’ll shoot his shot. If you’ve been together for a few years but aren’t married yet, he’ll propose to you. If you’re already married, he’ll still get down on one knee, take your hand in his and kiss its back tenderly, like a knight in shining armor. It’s embarrassingly sweet, but he knows no one but you is going to see it, so he does it anyway. You’re royalty in his eyes, you’re his to protect and care for, and he needs to show his loyalty however he can. Once he’s done kissing your hand, he’ll get up, holding your hand still and pulling you up with him, just so he can hold you close once again. Another tender kiss to your lips, and then he’ll get out a small box. Either the proposal ring or, if you’re married already, he’ll gift you a lovely little necklace made of pure silver. Something you can wear that will always remind you of him.

Once you’re down on the ground again, he’ll take your hand in his and lead you home, conversing with you about how much he loves you, how happy he is to have you in his life and how he hopes he gets to spend many, many more years like that with you.

If it’s not too late yet, you might watch a movie and cuddle on the couch. But you’ll likely both be tuckered out after today and just snuggle up in bed, ready for the next day.

And this is how Gaz’ ideal anniversary would go.

#cod #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #I wish I could gift Gaz a small music box that plays “You Are My Sunshine” I think that would be a cute gift #I have a music box that plays “Over The Rainbow” which I think is also very sweet #I think I might wanna start collecting music boxes they're just so very lovely #now that's a hobby I can also get behind! a lovely little tune that could calm down just about anyone!#maybe even put someone to sleep as well #I still remember one of the first things I ever wrote and posted here. The Batter and the Music Box #I wish I had the time to write something like that for my favorite lads and lasses as well #whew this is almost 1.300 words long which is surprising since I wanted to go for 800-ish #but I read Gaz and my brain short circuited he was my favorite when watching the campaign #I did start watching the mw reboot for him and Valeria but I stayed for him and Valeria #mw1 was the best one out of the three in my opinion. and now I'm watching the og mw when I can :-)#og Soap and Ghost are a funny little duo. I love the little hackerman Ghost so much! though I wanna know where the joke of him breaking #so many laptops came from! it's cute but I always thought he was good with technology :o either way I like to imagine talking about IT #stuff with everyone and being good at it and helping them! IT is fun I like it a lot :-)#either way thank you for the request! this one was also an absolute delight to write! love me some good natured fluff and Gaz :D

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leafofkudzu · 1 year

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Hello again! I did say I was going to consider hosting more art parties if last month’s test run went well and, well, it did, so here I am again! Come one come all to [VS] Verdant Shield’s second ever monthly art party, this time with an expanded reach!

For those not in the loop from last month, what is an art party exactly? Well, they’re common occurrences in the Final Fantasy XIV community where artists of all kinds get together to chat, hang out, and create together! If a certain character catches your eye, you make some art of them in whatever way suits your fancy, then during or after the party post it under the tag for that party so others know where to look and spread the love around via reblogs/retweets/etc! I said it last time and it’ll always bear repeating - the ‘goal’ of attending an art party is not to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community! Attendees from last month’s party compared it to art jams, people watching, or attending a life drawing class with people you actually like. For more tangible examples, you can check back through the tag I intend to use for all of these monthly events - #VSArtParty - to see what previous partygoers have made!

I’m a lot less antsy about hosting these events now that I have a baseline, so much so that I want to involve those of you over on EU servers as well by hosting two rounds of parties, first on EU and then NA! However, I’ll still be keeping the squad(s) private and out of LFG to deter party-crashers, especially since this time we’ll be in a more well-known and easily-accessible location as the party moves Eastward into the Grove!

Check under the cut for details on how the event(s) will be laid out and how to reach the party location!

Welcome to the expanded details! First of all, the Garden of Dawn is the Grove’s worst-kept secret so I’d be surprised if you didn’t already know about it, but just in case, here’s a tl;dr on how to get there from Ronan’s Waypoint (aka the bottom floor of the Grove, you can drop down from Upper Commons Waypoint or Reckoner’s Waypoint to get to this starting point too):

Head North along the path towards the House of Aife PoI (not shown in the picture but you’ll see it on your map).

Take a hard left at said PoI and yeet yourself into this tiny pool that has a secret tunnelllll~

You’re here! It’s bigger than it looks in this picture but still relatively small, however I’ve attended events hosted here and can confirm that it can fit a lot of people, and also from last month I learned we don’t actually need a ton of space since we all squish up together to see each other anyway. However, if this space gets too crowded we’ll breach containment and relocate to a more public spot - very likely Starbower Nursery aka the little multi-level tavern on the South side of the map (it has its own PoI so it’s easy to spot)! If we do I’ll make sure to put the updated location in the squad message!

Okay! With that out of the way let’s get to the real important stuff.

This month’s event will consist of two separate art parties, each 3 hours long (though you’re welcome to stay later if you like), with a 1hr break in between so people interested in attending both can stretch, get snacks, etc etc.

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Time (that’s 3pm Eastern Standard Time for NA folks). I’ll be hosting it on my EU alt, so to join you can either whisper Aemryn of Dusk for an invite or type ‘/sqjoin aemryn of dusk’ in chat to join automatically!

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Standard Time (that’s 1am Central European Time for any sleepless EU folks). This one will be hosted on my main account, and you can join by either whispering Kirslyn for an invite or typing ‘/sqjoin kirslyn’ in chat to auto-join!

Like I mentioned before the cut, we’ll be using the same tag for both of these parties as we did for last month’s - #VSArtParty - and I think that’ll be the one we’ll continue to use in the future for these! There’s no spaces so that it can be used on Twitter as well if you’re still over there!

That’s it for now! Expect to see this reblogged a few times between now and then, and I hope to see you all there for another fun time! ♥

#i was going to do 4hr + 4hr with no break in between but that's a lot of time with no pause so ahaha..ha...#anyway hi i didn't want to leave eu friends out since the last one was really fun! hope to see y'all there :D #if you aren't sure of anything i've said feel free to dm me here i wrote this at 1am so yeah #gw2 #guild wars 2 #obnoxious tourist simulator #vsartparty #📢🎨

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