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clouds-fics · 2 years

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Ink Stains

A/N: This is my first time posting a fanfic on here! I hope you all like it! It’s from the video game Bendy and the Ink Machine, and it’s something I wrote about two years ago.

{•}

It was obvious that Sammy and Wally had a bad relationship. Everyone in the studio could see it.

However, that was just simply not the case.

-—-

Sammy was in his sanctuary, annoyance creeping up his spine as he scribbled out notes of music.

It was like a language, he thought. A language that he couldn’t decipher. Or at least find it in himself to finish. He was missing something; an important puzzle piece in his symphony.

Then, in quick rasps, he heard thumps make a quick tattoo into his entrance. He blinked, taking a quick look at the small clock and noticed it was past work hours. He was almost tempted to ignore it, but it was so panicked and familiar that he quickly opened the door. What met his eyes made him shiver.

Wally was in front of him, shivering and drenched in ink. His eyes were wide, and his hands trembled like a leaf in the wind.

Sammy quickly let him in, taking care to grab the slightly stained towel that laid on his stained desk. He led Wally to his seat as he ignored the tug at his chest.

“ What happened?” He questioned softly as he wiped off some of the ink.

Wally shook as he said,” I-I... It hurts...” He whined as he tugged at his stained hair. His hat, which he usually took very good care of, slipped off of his head and landed on the inky ground.

“ What hurts?” Sammy questioned as he tried to gently rub off the ink.

Wally seemed to not hear him, and Sammy looked into his eyes only to freeze when he saw them.

Eyes that usually resembled melted caramel now was a pure black.

It was like a signal as Wally heaved over, loosing his lunch as he sagged against his friend. Sammy was chilled by this, and his heart filled with dread when he noticed a familiar black.

That tug became a burn and all he could do was look away as he questioned softly,” What happened?”

Wally just continued to tremble, and it took a few moments to realize that Wally was mumbling. Sammy held back a sob as he tried to wipe off the ink. Unfortunately, it seemed to have a mind of its own now. It weaved along the teenager’s body, making even the most persistent scrubbing useless as it evaded him.

Wally was dying, and there was only one way to fix it.

Sammy snatched the hat from the floor and after sticking it on the teen’s head, picked him up and ran out the door.

-—-

Heat spread across his skin like a tidal wave, but all he could do is shiver. Voices, amplified to the point of deafening him, wailed and screamed in his ears.

He felt bile rise up, but he managed to keep it down as he looked up to the man carrying him.

Sammy had a scared but determined face as he raced against the clock. Wally, even in his haze, managed to catch the quiver in his lips and the slight tremble in his lips.

In that second Wally knew he was in big trouble.

He elected to ignore this thought. With a slightly delirious mindset, he decided he needed to cheer up his unofficial big brother. With his shaky hands, he grabbed the hat off of his head as firmly as he could. With a small sweep he planted the hat on Sammy’s head and began to babble.

“I crave your affection, but I crave your silence even more– shut up.” Sammy shakily drawled, but Wally didn’t seem to notice as he continued his speech.

With a shaky smile the man tousled his hair affectionately.

The janitor couldn’t help but lean into the warm touch, and all he could wonder was how his body was so hot but all he could feel was crippling cold.

-—-

They eventually arrived at the ink machine, and Sammy took care to lay the teenager softly on the ground. It still elicited a noise of pain from him, and it took everything in Sammy not to flinch and collapse on the floor. No- that was for later. For now he had to be the strong hero. Especially amongst his mistakes and sins.

He shakily darted out and sprinted to the offering room. He blessed his lucky stars that Joey had forced them to bring an offering, even if he did hate it. He wasn’t some crazed worshiper, but he’d be a liar if he’d said that wasn’t what Joey wanted him to be...

With a whimper he slammed the button and sprinted as fast as he could to the ink machine. He slipped and slid on inky black as he finally arrived at the ink machine.

He took no time in pulling the lever, making the machine rise into the air. He turned to Wally, heart gripping as he noticed the blackened blood that leaked from his mouth and his eyes. The only thing that managed to comfort the music director was the shivers that wracked his body. It meant that he was alive.

It meant that he had a chance.

Sammy reached down and picked him up, eliciting a startled groan from Wally. He merely rubbed a hand through his hair apolitically as he scampered over to the small tub that pumped out the ink.

With shaking hand he laid Wally on there and said,” It’s okay, I’ll make you feel better Wals.”

Wally groaned as he limply laid on his back, and the last thing Sammy did before he left him was kiss the top of his head and turn to the controls.

With shaking hands he began to pull the levers and push the buttons. He tried everything he could and eventually he was rewarded with a stream of ink gushing out of the machine. He slid onto the ground, shoulders shaking as his entire body was wracked with sobs that held no candle to the grief that consumed it.

-—-

It was hours later when Sammy awoke on the floor. He was confused for a slight moment, mind searching for an answer before the weight of what had happened hit him.

He collapsed again, body trying and failing to wrack in oxygen as his vision grew blurry with tears.

Wally was poisoned. Wally was dead. Wally was gone. Wally was gone gone gone.

He was gone.

-—-

He was swimming. That’s the only way he could describe it. Honestly, it was kind of nice. It would have even been almost peaceful if it weren’t for the shouting and the pitch black darkness.

The being, Wally, a voice in his head echoed, swam around aimlessly. He wasn’t sure where he was, and just as he was about to start yelling out too he heard sobs.

With his curiosity piqued he swam up. It was like moving through molasses. It felt thick and sticky against his... What was he again?

He couldn’t quite remember.

He ignored this in favor of following the cries; familiar and heart wrenching they drew him closer as he made his way up.

Then he breached the surface.

The air licked his skin, making him hiss in surprise as he blinked away the thick liquid in his eyes.

The lights were yellowed and made the walls appear a dark honey comb color. Black splattered the walls and noises seemed to create an odd symphony of ticks and grinding gears.

The thought sent a bittersweet feeling in his chest before it faded away; leaving him as quick as it came.

He would ponder this later, right after he got out of this ink pit.

With a grumble he padded forward in a doggy paddle. The ink seemed to drag him down, and it took everything in him to stay afloat.

Then he saw him.

The man was stained with ink he noted. He was crumpled on the ground and made worrying wheezing sounds- not unlike a broken squeaky toy.

Wally eventually made his way out of the ink and onto the balcony. His arrival, unnoticed to the music director, was a blessing to his aching muscles.

He dusted himself off, making a few splatters of black staining the soft wood. Wally winced, a sudden though reminding him that wood being soft wasn’t good. Especially for something that was suspending him about a giant pool of ink.

Shaking those thoughts away he started forward; paws miraculously not staining the wood as he asked the figure,” Hello? Are you okay?”

The figure was startled from his grief, turning to him with wide frightened eyes.

-—-

Sammy wasn’t sure what to do. He stared at the short cartoonish raccoon that was in front of him with a burning fear in his heart.

Would he hate him? Did he blame him for what happened?

... Did he even remember him?

Claws of anguish scratched at his chest and ripped at his insides; leaving a bloody mess of insecurity behind for him to deal with.

“ Do... Do you need help?”

Sammy let out a quiet whimper as he watched his every move.

The raccoon, Wally, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, only concern for his well being seemed to shine through two cartoon pie cut eyes.

If that wasn’t what started to flood gates, Sammy isn’t quite sure what did.

“ Oh no, did I do something wrong?!?” Wally fretted as he hovered anxiously over the sobbing music director.

Sammy paid no mind to his words. Instead he sobbed out,” I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry...”

Wally moved forward and gently took the man in his arms. Sammy wailed out as he clutched onto the inky raccoon as well as he could.

“ It’s okay, you’re forgiven...” Wally paused as he wracked his brain for his name.” Sammy.”

Sammy’s cries seemed to intensify and suddenly Wally felt memories flood his mind. With that came the realization that he needed to calm down his brother, and all he could think of is his song. The song that made him feel more human than anything else has.

“ I-It’s alright, it’s okay...” Wally sung rasping as he held him.

His grip tightened as he continued firmly,” It’s alright it’s okay. You’re not a monster... Just human, and you’ve made a few mistakes.”

Sammy cried out again and Wally burrowed his face into his hair.

“ It’s alright, it’s okay. It’s alright, it’s okay..”

Wally’s inky fur didn’t seem to stain his face. Instead it seemed to soak in his tears as he held onto his brother as he sung for him.

“ You’re not gruesome, just human, and you’ve made a few mistakes.”

Eventually with the help of Wally’s song and his love Sammy managed to calm down.

The music director scrubbed at his face mercilessly as he said,” I’m sorry...”

“ No more of that.” The raccoon countered as he brushed at the hair that was exposed from under the hat.” I’m not mad, and I can assure you no one else is either.”

Sammy remained unresponsive except for a quiet whimper.

Wally sighed as he picked him up. Much to the janitor’s surprise, he could almost compare Sammy to a feather as he held him in a bridal hold.

Wally elected to ignore that for now. No, he decided he needed to get him and Sammy out of there.

“ Alright.” Wally began as he trudged forward,” Is there anything you need from your... Sanctuary was it?”

Sammy just shook at the words, and all Wally could do was hold him tighter.

“ I guess that’s a no.”

Wally, after a moment, fished keys out of his pocket and started looking for the exit. To fill the void of silence, the younger man decided to converse with the shock victim.

“ You know, I think I look pretty cool. For a raccoon at least.” He shrugged as he made his way forward.” I’m going to have to hand in my resignation though. Or we could just say I died. Not sure how I could do that without you being a suspect or revealing I’m a furry. Literally.”

Wally snorted as he looked down at his black fur,” I’d say it’s pretty soft though, so fair deal I guess. Say, didn’t Disney offer you a job? You should take that. It’s better than here.”

Sammy started to doze off, and Wally shook him slightly as he said,” Nope, can’t have you dozing off just yet. You still need to listen to my Mickey Mouse impression after all.”

This finally got a soft huff of laughter out of him, and Wally couldn’t help but let a shaky one of him own escape him.

They would be fine, he realized.

Wally felt a few dark tears drip from his pie cut eyes as he said,” Yeah, and you never got around to watching those Disney movies with me. You still have to watch it with me, no getting out of it. Even if I am a giant fluffy raccoon.”

Finally Sammy began to calm down. His body became a limp noodle in his arms and Wally felt his own icy fear dissolve.

They would make it, Wally could feel it.

-—-

Sammy sighed as he drove up to his house, tired after a long day of work. Despite him being a musician, he often got sought after for help with the lyrical part of the songs. Adding that with his admittedly middle wage pay, he felt drained.

When he noticed the blue light that flooded out of his living room window, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. He unlocked the door, and entered the small hall.

He recognized the sound of Bippity Bobbity Boo almost immediately. Heaven knows that he’s heard it enough already. Oddly enough, instead of it annoying him it made him smile.

He quickly entered the living room to find Wally dozing off in a pillow fort. His snores drowned out the fairy godmother’s tune, and Sammy couldn’t help but smile down at his brother. With a click he turned off the tv and the lights. He undid his tie after that and made his way into the fort.

Maybe things weren’t exactly perfect, but as he curled up next to his brother, he knew there was nothing better than this.

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #Wally Franks #tw transformation #tw grusome details #tw gore #kind of #Pre Loop #tw Death #tw main character death #but he gets better #Wally and Sammy kind of become brothers #it just happened #but they deserve it #Wally gets inked #spoiler: he becomes a raccoon

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lucabyte · 2 months

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traveller tips! you can drink from any standing body of water. it's fine.

#its a cute headcanon that loop's ability to watch/hear via siffrin as a guide extends to their other senses too #but its also got some funny fucking implications if you broaden your concept of 'senses' to 'general bodily experience'#isat #in stars and time #isat fanart #isat siffrin #isat loop #doodlebyte #anyway this joke entered my brain completely fully formed theres like no further thoughts behind it.#im just a staunch believer that siffrin probably has a cast-iron stomach from their eating habits pre-party #but cast iron doesnt mean immune. so watch out!

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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Eddie’s on the couch shirtless, and Steve is having a full-on crisis.

Eddie’s bare chest is on full display on Robin and Steve’s couch, and Steve is having a full-blown, how did this not click til now, crisis.

Steve knows he’s staring. Knows he needs to stop staring. Eddie is going on a rant to them, something about society or something metal (he got distracted when Eddie whipped his shirt off), and Steve should really pay attention because he knows Eddie is going to quiz him after.

For someone who hates school so much, Eddie sure likes to test Steve.

Robin comes up behind Steve, slurping her slushy. “Oh no. I know that face. It finally caught up to you, didn’t it?”

Steve breaks his state to give Robin a wide-eyed look. “What—how—I—�� Steve’s shoulders sag; there is no point in hiding from Robin. “How’d you know?”

“Please, babe, I’ve been waiting. Glad to know you actually sped-run this. Was thinking you were going to pull a me and wait til Jenny Rodriguez asks to practice the stage kiss with you before you realized.”

“I have so many questions.”

“Don’t bother; nothing happened except me falling off the stage at rehearsal.”

Steve laughs but then chokes when he glances back at Eddie. “I think my brain just exploded, Robs. What do I do?”

Robin pats his back sympathetically, “There, there. Nothing you can do, bud. Just got to ride the gay thoughts wave.”

Steve makes a distressed noise. Robin rubs circles on his back.

Eddie interrupts their moment (clueless to the evident lesbian bisexual solidarity happening), “So what do you guys think? Should I get the sword here?” Eddie drags his hand slowly down his sternum.

“I need you to take it back.” Steve whips his head torwards Robin.

“Take it back?”

“The crisis, take it back.” Steve all but begs Robin.

“Sorry, there is a no refund policy. You can use it or push it to the side; it’s up to you. But either way, that baby is yours.” Robin uses her straw to emphasize her point.

Eddie tilts his head confused, “Uuuh guys? The tattoo?”

Steve waits a moment before responding. “Good.”

“I’m going to need more than that Stevie.”

“Good. Will look good on you. Anything looks good on you.” Steve has to resist shoving his face into his hands. He can feel the rush of heat up to his cheeks.

Eddie’s face breaks into a brilliant, and a little smug, smile. “Awe, thanks, sweetheart. Glad to know I got the Harrington approval.”

“You don’t need my approval to look good.” Steve was going to throw himself off the roof of their apartment. That didn’t even make any sense.

Eddie snorts, “Okay big boy. Whatever you say.”

It comes off flirtier than Steve thought a sarcastic comment could be. This time instead of responding, Steve just caves into the embarrassment, turns around, and starts lightly thumping his head into the wall.

“Eddie, c’mon, you broke him! Now I’m going to have to reboot him…again.”

Steve doesn’t see his face but doesn’t have to look to know that Eddie’s face is downright giddy. “Sorry.”

Steve doesn’t think he’s very sorry at all.

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chickenoptyrx · 4 months

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Skrunkly nugget Raditz.

#lol i literally drew 1 PANEL of nanny nappa and kid raditz and vegeta #for a gd comm!!#and suddenly i wanna draw this now :///#if i do draw em these kids are gettin bangs #only 1 with a dramatically receding hairline gonna be nappa #i shooouuulllddd probably also use the wrist guard bracer things from the bardock special :/#that dont extent to cover the hand or have the thumb loop or rope lookin bit #...or imma take some liberties cause i like those things >:T #aayy but i can atleast draw the old style scouters on em when their pre - immediately post planet explosion >:]#i love the big stupid button on bardocks scouter and even vegeta was still using that style at that time so the new once mustv not been out #p sure even freeza was

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Steve And Robin Are Stuck in A Timeloop AU

Steve's lost track of which time loop this is.

Had lost track pretty much instantly, because it turns out when people die repeatedly in front of you, it kinda takes precedence in your memory.

Besides, Robin has a list in her head, memorized via some kind of musical code, alongside all the dates and times they wake up in.

(Steve doesn't see what difference it makes if they wake up at 7:15 am the day of the Championship or 8:25 am, but Robin's insistent that even the slightest variations could mean something.)

He’ll have to ask his soulmate when he finds her though, because presently Steve has determined they're having one of their weirder loops.

Typically, when the two of them get kicked back in time, they wake up the day of the Championship game. Occasionally it will be the day right before or the day after, but sometimes?

Sometimes they’re sent back someplace, some time, that isn’t related to 1986 at all.

Thus far, the Starcourt loop had been the worst.

("If it happens a third time I'm killing myself." Steve had told Robin after they’d failed that one.

Robin didn’t even look at him, the two of them huddled up together in Steve’s bed. "No you're not Dingus, not without shooting me first."

"How come I have to shoot you!? Is it because I'm a man? That's not very feminist of you."

"No its because you've seen me shoot, I would miss!")

Steve had even woken up in an odd place. Not his bed or the couch, but the driver's seat of the Beamer, seated in the high school parking lot.

It made him immediately uneasy.

The chair is reclined all the way back, the mass of cars indicating it was a school day. Steve struggled to recall when he's ever taken a nap in his car as he got out of it, trying to decide how he wanted to go about things.

Felt his pocket and was surprised to find it full of a packet of smokes.

The sheer implication of that had him pulling out a cig and lighting it before the knowledge that he'd officially quit buying his own cigarettes in 1985 sank in.

Panicked and chainsmokes three, before deciding his best course of action was his usual one.

Find Robin.

Which of course means that he found Eddie instead.

xxx

He’d started his first lap, walking out if the parking lot and round to the more shaded, empty parts of the building when a voice he knew yelled.

The kind of yell he’d grown intimately familiar with, the one Eddie used when he was terrified and using anger to hide it.

Steve turns automatically, following the taunts and loud, pained breathing until he finds a handful of jocks encircling the metalhead. He's down on one knee, snarling like a wildcat caught in a trap while some guy Steve barely recognizes holds him by the hair, laughing.

Red coats his vision instantly, and any thoughts Steve had about being stuck in time (sort of) vanish from his mind entirely.

The world shrinks down, to that white knuckled grip on Eddie's hair, the way it’s pulling the older boy’s face up so that Steve can see the straining muscles in his throat.

The protective creature that lives in his chest and likes to punch it’s way out of problems awakens, and a thrum goes through Steve as he feels its demand for blood.

"Hey fellas " Steve calls joyfully, striding directly into the crowd. "What’re we doing?"

Two part before him like fish seeing a shark,and a faraway inner voice identifies them as members of the swim team.

Which likely meant the other two were football players, and for all the tackling they did they were surprisingly easy to scare, if you knew how to play it right.

Steve absolutely knew how to play it right.

"Fuck off Harrington. This isn't your business." The one holding Eddie's hair spits.

"Well that would be where you're wrong." Steve was still keeping things conversational as he positioned himself, arms nice and loose at his sides. He lets the thing that lives inside him, who made him turn right back around all those years ago and charge back into the Byers house, out a little more. Feels the need to protect, to save, to destroy the things that are his, fuel him. "Seeing as all of Eddie's business is my business."

Eddie stares up at him, wide eyed at the declaration.

Feeling entirely out of control of his body, Steve sends him a wink.

"Since when!?" The other football player asks.

"Since now." Steve declares cheerfully--and then smiles.

It isn’t a nice smile.

Thoroughly unnerved, his swim team members shrink back. He’ll have words for them later if he has time--Steve can't ever recall the swim team members being dicks but who fucking knows.

His memory wasn't the best before he and Robin got stuck in time.

"You fucking into drugs now or wha--" Their ringleader, still holding onto Eddie by the hair, doesn't get to finish his sentence.

Mostly because his mouth is too busy catching Steve's fist.

Fighting, he knows, is something he does best when it's too the death and he's armed with something.

Bonus points if his opponent is a horrific monster from another dimension.

He has gotten better though, and here the rapid pace he sets feels almost too easy.

The first guy goes down on the ground before the rest pick up on it, giving Eddie time to lurch backwards as Steve turns and torpedoes into the next jock.

This one gets in a good shot--Steve staggers with a blow to his side but it's not enough to wind him. He keeps to his feet and advances, delivering one more punch before the swim team guys are trying to call him off.

"Come on man, you're gonna kill them!"

Steve almost laughs-- he hasn't come close to killing either idiot-- but backs away, keeping himself between them and Eddie.

They wave their hands, getting ahold of their bloodied friends as they slowly ease between them and Steve. Make apologizes and promises that it was a poor joke, Munson just got to them, hot heads you know?

Steve snarls at them to fuck off, and glares until they're gone.

"What the hell just happened?" Eddie asks him, and Steve turns to find him on his feet, leaning heavily against the brick wall of the school.

As far as he can get away from Steve.

"Our football quarterback can't hit for shit." Steve informs him, having finally placed an least one of the guys. "It's probably why we always lose."

Eddie gives him such a freaked out face it almost makes him laugh a second time.

The effect isn't helped by the fact that Eddie's normally long mane is hovering just over his shoulders, the curls somehow poofier than normal. Clearly he’s still trying to grow it out, but it just makes him look like one of those frazzled dogs.

Adorable.

On instinct Steve reaches out to playfully pull a few strands, then freezes when Eddie flinches from him.

"Sorry." He keeps his hands up, as he takes in Munson's face. "Shit dude, he got your nose good."

There's blood smeared under it, and given the look of the skin surrounding it?

Eddie's gonna have an impressive bruise soon enough.

Steve gets a glare sent his way. "Why do you care?" Eddie spits, back very much still up, and-- right.

Right.

Time travel.

"I'm really bad at explaining it." Steve warns, running a hand through his hair. He did this part plenty without Robin (meeting Eddie that was--Robs usually tackled Nancy.) But he also typically did in it 1986, and with at least three of the kids, not whenever they currently were.

"We usually start with facts only you'd know, but I don't actually know when I am right now." He finishes, and realizes immediately that it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

"When you are?" Eddie asks, because of course he clocks that part immediately.

"Ye--eah." Steve says, dragging out the word.

He looks at Eddie desperately, like the metalhead will tell him the exact information he needs.

Eddie just stares back.

"Look, it sounds really stupid when you say it out loud." Steve says finally, because fuck, it does!

"Comparable to all the other times you talk out loud?" Eddie snips, voice full of venom.

"Shut up.” Steve replies automatically, but his tone holds no heat. He’s too used to trading banter with Eddie that is friendly. “I'm gonna preface this by saying I can prove it."

"Oh wow preface. Such a big word for you! Did Nancy Wheeler teach you that one?"

"Robin actually." Then, "Nancy?"

The look Eddie gives him could melt steel beams. "Yeah man. Nancy Wheeler. Your girlfriend."

"Oh--oh god." Steve says, because that means they're way back. Possibly to the beginning.

Or worse, before he and Nancy had broken up.

"I can’t handle that breakup a second time." He says wide eyed, the panic gripping him for a second. “I could-no, no I could get Robin to tell her!”

Because that sure would work.

Steve can just imagine it now. Robin, sauntering up to Nancy and going ‘Hey, we really haven’t met yet but you’re gonna dump Steve, if you haven’t already and to cut through all the drama, I’m here to just tell you on his behalf that it’s over. What was that? A coward? Why yes, he is one!’

You know, provided she didn’t just laugh in his face and then cuff him over the head when she realized he was being serious.

“Dude.” Eddie says, sinking a world’s worth of judgment into the single syllable.

“Yeah, you’re right, bad call.” Steve says, and whatever Eddie was expecting it clearly wasn’t that.

“Are you on drugs right now?” Eddie finally asks when Steve reverts back to looking to him as if he’s going to help. A bad habit, and one Steve knows he needs to stop doing.

Even if Eddie, in the original timeline and every one after they got him on board, eventually becomes someone Steve can rely on like that.

“You can tell me if you are, man, you know I won’t judge.” The hateful air around him is fading into something more confused, and then into something else entirely. The persona Eddie pulls when he’s hurt and trying to hide it with jokes and rants. “Unless you and your buddies bought from someone that wasn’t me, in which case I get exclusive rights to judge.”

He’s shifting as he finally stands up off the wall, and Steve doesn’t miss how he hugs one hand to a rib.

Shit.

He needs to get Eddie up to speed and he needs to do it fast.

Steve sighs and just starts listing Eddie Munson Facts like an unprepared kid who was called on in class.

"Okay, so your uncle collects mugs, right? And--fuck I don't know when you get all the tattoos,” Steve makes a vague gesture around his chest, “but you have bats on your arm and you gave them all names."

Eddie's eyes pop wide again, jaw slacking as Steve volleys off a few more Munson Facts.

"You have this weird fear about red ribbon necklaces because of a book you read in third grade, your first guitar has this giant ugly--sorry dude, but you cannot write legibly to save your life, 'This machine slays dragons' quote across it and--oh!"

He was so fucking stupid. The answer was literally staring at him in the face, dangling around Eddie's neck.

Steve snapped his fingers excitedly. "The guitar pick on your neck is your moms!"

Eddie’s mouth open and closes like a fish, long enough that the smile slowly slides off of Steve’s face.

"How the fuck do you know all that?" He manages after a long, tortuous moment, looking like he’d been sucker punched.

Again.

With the most pained look his face can manage, Steve finally answers. "Time travel."

Eddie blinks.

Then blinks again.

"Time travel." He echoes faintly.

"Yeah. I'm from 1986, where things kinda got really fucked up."

"No kidding?" Eddie says, right before he erupts into giggles.

"Did they get you in the head?" Steve asks, abruptly concerned, as Eddie collapses back against the wall in a growing fit of laughter.

Concussed Eddie was not a road he wanted to go down but Steve knew better than anyone what happens if you ignore such things.

"I think my weed just hit." Eddie explains as he wipes away a tear, and Steve wants to shake him, but knows it won't get him anywhere.

"That's great. That's just great." He grumbles, hands going onto his hips. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To get you a bandage. And then find Robin.”

Robin, Steve decided, could handle a high, concussed Eddie.

#I do write more than pre steddie #but some days it doesnt feel like it #not even gonna lie this not-fic was just an excuse to write six million meet cutes #steddie #pre steddie #time loop au #stranger things #Eddie Munson #steve harrington #drug mention #hurt/comfort #sorta

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atimeofyourlife · 6 months

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Wake up every morning to this groundhog day

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: time travel au | rated: t | wc: 552 | tags: time loop au, pre steddie Steve gets stuck in a time loop, but is he the only one? Title from Rio by Mika

The first day, Steve thought it had been a weird dream when he woke up to everything being the exact same as it had been the day before. He tried his best to convince himself, despite the fact he felt like he was repeating everything he'd done the day before, the strangest sense of deja vu.

But then it happened again.

And again.

Soon enough, Steve had lived a week of the same day. Waking up to the clothes he'd worn the day before clean in his closet again. The leftovers he'd eaten for dinner were back in the refrigerator. The weed he'd purchased was gone from the pocket of his bag, the money he'd spent on it tucked in it's place. It was really starting to freak him out, but he knew he couldn't bring it up to anyone without them thinking he was insane. Not that he had many people to bring it up to, he no longer spoke to Tommy and Carol, everything was awkward with Nancy since the break up, and there was no way in hell he was going to mention it to the kids, because they would convince themselves that it was somehow Upside Down related and panic and throw themselves into trouble.

So, for the most part, he just tried to follow the motions. Hoping that it would resolve itself. He kept a look out to see if there were any tiny details that changed in each repetition of the day, but came up blank. Even if he tried to change parts of his routine, skipping buying weed, skipping school, changing where and what he ate, it didn't make much difference. He still kept waking up to the same day over and over again.

He ended up buying and smoking weed everyday. It helped calm him down, stop him from freaking out so much. He guessed that because the day kept resetting itself, the weed disappeared from his system when the time moved back. And it wasn't like he was wasting tons of money on it, was he was spending the same money each day, he'd even memorized the serial numbers on the bills, checking them each morning.

"Jesus Christ, Harrington. Chill, you seem so on edge today." Eddie said as he watched Steve from the picnic bench in the woods. Steve had stumbled into the clearing for the daily deal, feeling more and more out of it each day.

"Sorry. I just. I feel like I'm going insane." Steve mumbled, dropping to sit on the opposite side of the bench. He buried his face in his arms.

"I've been feeling like that ever since I started high school." Eddie replied, pulling out baggies of weed from his metal lunchbox. "Tell me what's going on, if I'm feeling generous I might throw in a little extra for free."

"It's. I keep living the same day over and over and over and over. Everyday, it's the Third of April, and it's been like that for so long I've lost count. No matter what I do, nothing changes. I just wake up the next day and it's the Third of April again."

Eddie didn't say anything for a few moments, instead just watching Steve closely. Then finally, "It's been happening to you too?"

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #pre steddie #time loop au #steddieholidaydrabbles #atimeofyourwrites

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estellaestella · 21 days

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Zendaya slapping her way to Oscars 2025 😅 with Timothee Chalamet in DUNE:PART TWO (2024) & Josh O'Connor in CHALLENGERS (2024).

#zendaya #chani #challengers #dune part two #chani x paul #patrick x tashi #timothee chalamet #with her left and right hand! impressive!#josh o'connor #i hope she puts Chani up for Oscsr consideration instead of Tashi : it has more layers than Tashi and DUNE 2 is a better made movie #i really like the second gif coz the loop is so funny: his pre dlapped face looks like a reaction to the slap #i do love a gif with a good loop - which is why i make them so rarely 😄 theyre so much work!

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chibikittens · 1 month

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my secret little angsty headcanon than I'm like 99.9% sure has no chance of actually being legit is that SASASAP Siffrin's timeline didn't forget about the island/their home. And that, when they made their wish/ate that star, it somehow tied into the island being forgotten. Don't really have many reasons to back this up, I just think it adds another juicy layer of self-sacrifice to a story already seeped in self-sacrifice. The idea that pre-Loop Siffrin, whether intentionally or not, gave up on not just their version of their party, but their everything - their island, their country/culture, their relatives, memory, truly everything. Really just makes me foam at the mouth like a rabid dog.

#isat #in stars and time #I only really base this on how pre-Loop Siffrin does seem to be capable of remembering #details of their loved ones (during the snack scenes) tho I feel like this isn't what the game's creator intended #altho what do I know honestly #in stars and time spoilers #maybe I could back this up easier if i didnt rush thru the game in 57 loops eep but oh well

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steddieunderdogfics · 5 days

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for challenge monday: ~300 hits

dreaming of spring now by the incredibly talented andwhatyousaid

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55786882

This is such a brilliant take on the time loop trope while also being so heartbreaking and beautiful, a true gem

dreaming of spring now by andwhatyousaid

@andwhatyousaid

Rating: Teen and Up

5,509 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Loop, Aftermath of the Time Loop, Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Implied relationships, Pre-Relationship, Ambiguous/Open Ending, POV Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Lives

Summary:

“You think we really did it this time?” Steve asks quietly. His eyes flash as lightning passes over them, shining like car headlights in the dark.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with ~300 hits.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddieunderdogfics #challenge monday #time loop #ambiguous ending #pre relationship

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tadpolebobatea · 2 months

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Day 1 - Favourite negator!

It’s POOKIE BEAR (Are you surprised? I’d bet good money you aren’t)

Gods saddest soldier fighting his toughest battles (trying not to lose focus and have a consensual work place relationship)

(gods second saddest soldier was me. Trying to draw tellas hair.)

(I could talk about him more but I’d be repeating myself. He’s the babygirl. If you haven’t read the manga do it now)

Super happy with 100s expression though, wry smile for my sad little guy. The eyebags also make me happy.

Time lapse

#I kept this drawing relatively simple I think?#couldn’t resist drawing both versions of him though #i had to draw them #the subtle visual differences are better than fresh baked bread #100 has muted colours n i made his scars bigger #hes older so theyve had... more time to expand? made sense in my head #101s scars are star shaped #simplify. make them cute. his hair is way fluffier too #im super happy with how pre loop tellas hair looks. its so cute.#uuweek2024 #undead unluck manga #tella undead unluck #uu tella #my art <3 #my art <3 #undead unluck

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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previous chapter

———

Coran’s final word rings through the ancient room. For a moment everyone stays frozen, relaying Coran’s haunting story in their heads, reeling from the severity of all they’ve learned.

Then that moment turns into another.

And another.

“Okay,” Hunk says, when it’s clear that Coran is not giving any further instructions. “How do we go about this…search?” He looks pointedly at the various floating balls of light around the giant room, impossibly high shelves, and incorporeal artefacts and literature. “Is there some sort of ancient Altean database search?”

There’s a poorly faked cough from beside Keith, Lance rapidly looking away to hide his grin at Hunk’s dry comment. Coran looks at the two of them judgementally, eyebrows raised, before answering.

“Of course not,” he chides, as if its obvious. “The Lions were the first piece of technology to successfully work alongside concentrated quintessence. This place has been around long before that.”

“Right,” Hunk says, throwing his hands up in exaggeration. “Of course. How stupid of me to ask.”

The sarcasm flies right over Coran’s head, who looks pleased at Hunk’s concession. Despite his situation, and the time limit he’s sure he’s on, Keith has to fight down laughter.

“I think what Hunk is looking for is instructions,” Shiro says diplomatically when Coran once again lapses into silence. “The specific kind, if you don’t mind. Reminder that when the castle first started construction there was only single-celled life on Earth, so we’re a little behind.”

Coran snorts. “No need to exaggerate, Number One, I’m happy to explain.”

The humans make brief eye contact with each other, visibly and wordlessly communicating, before simultaneously deciding to drop it.

“Everything here, as you can observe, is related to quintessence,” Coran begins to explain. Finally. (Keith loves the man, seriously, but he’s not known as one to get to the point.) “As, of course,” he nods at Keith, “is your problem. To solve a problem relating to quintessence, you need to use it.”

“So it’s a fight fire with fire situation,” Lance surmises.

Coran nods. “More or less. Now, join hands and close your eyes.”

Pidge grabs Keith’s left hand and squeezes, smiling, which along with making him feel especially supported and loved — Pidge is most definitely very affectionate, but rarely is her affection so unmasked, it means a great deal to Keith that she knows he needs it and she’s being so brazen with it now — reminds him quite ardently that Lance’s hand is still tangled with his. He smiles wider.

“Pay attention, now,” Coran says, snapping Keith out of his thoughts. “All of you must sink into each other the same way you do when you’re forming Voltron. When you do so, your quintessence will be entwined as one, and your desires will no longer be of one individual person but instead of many presences, as one.”

“That makes no sense,” Hunk mutters.

“Your face makes no sense,” Lance shoots back.

“Shut up, goober.”

Allura laughs. Shiro shushes the lot of them, but Keith knows he’s holding back a smile himself.

Adept at dealing with the lot of them — they are, objectively, annoying — Coran continues right on. “All that raw energy in one place is attractive to all other energy in the area. If you were all to hone your energy on one specific desire, one specific type of quintessence, it would be easier to attract. So after I finish speaking, all of you are going to focus as intently as you can, on yourselves and each other, as you are used to doing, and then together you are going to search for what will become clear.”

As usual with anything to do with quintessence, the instructions are vague, contradictory. But more pressing than any frustrations at unclarity is Keith’s fear — that this will fail, that his quintessence will remain warped, that he will lose Lance again and again and again, that there will be nothing he can do to stop it. The fear eats at him; angry almost at being held at bay for as long as he’s held onto Lance, bubbling right under his skin. His breathing picks up, chest rising and falling rapidly, and his gloves become slick with sweat. Memories of Lance flash through his mind, rapidly, never lasting even one full second; Lance, face down on the floor of an Empire warship, hole through his head, Lance, covered in spatters of blood in the training room, skin torn and ripped, Lance, incinerated into nothing. Bile rises in his throat as images of Lance, dead and injured and dying, are all he can see; copper floods his mouth as he remembers the scent of iron in the air, blaster fire rings in his ears, his heart rate skyrockets —

You are your own worst enemy, a voice chides, and then something cool and crackly and something else Keith can’t put a name too envelops his mind, cutting off the string of memory, filling his senses with the smell of lavender and sunshine and the sound of constant humming.

Lance.

Lance is barely established as a chiding presence in Keith’s mind before five more surges of energy come rushing in: the most familiar to him, strong and steady and goofy , a smaller, sparky surge of energy, a buzzing energy that gives the impression of an old, impossibly huge Redwood, an energy that feels like the first bite of a warm cookie, and one that Keith can only describe as hot pink.

Shiro. Pidge. Coran. Hunk. Allura.

His family.

The six of them encircle him, crowding his mindscape, forcing out the strangling memories of his deepest fears. They entangle themselves with him, strung up like a wired earbuds left in a pocket; their quintessence, entwined as one, no longer one individual person but many presences, as one.

It feels like strength. It feels like hope. It feels like family.

It feels like Voltron.

There’s not so much a verbal or mental command so much as there’s a universal desire for one thing. Outside of their mortal bodies, outside of a physical realm, they’re capable of more than is possible, and suddenly sifting through all the quintessence in the massive, ancient room is no longer an impossibility but simply a reality. In a way that Keith can’t quite process but is aware that he is doing, they surge their energy forward, in some way, comparing it instantly which every other ball of potential in the area, searching for what they’re looking for.

The Answer is at the near ceiling of the cave; dark, heavy, not much a presence so much as a lack of one. It’s foreboding, not as bright as everything else nor as dark as maligned energy feels. Something separate, something they have never felt before.

Instantly they wrap around it, pulling it back down, to where they stand. They pull back away from each other, gently untangling and sinking back into themselves. It’s extremely disorienting, like walking up tangled in bedsheets and trying to pull yourself free while only half awake. Keith’s vision is blurry when he’s finally home in his own body again, and it takes him several blinks too clear it.

Floating in between them, still and unmoving, is the fix to his clusterfuck.

———

next chapter

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