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sp0o0kylights · 9 months

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Part Five Part Two / Part Six YOU ARE HERE. / Part Seven

A03

"No come back here and hug me dammit!"

"I told you it'd be funny." Gareth stage whispered to Steve the following Monday, as Eddie proceeded to cause his usual amount of chaos in the lunchroom.

Tiff just shook her head.

"Come on, just do it and then tell everyone I'm better!" Eddie shrieked again, loud enough to be heard across the school. Possibly into the parking lot, given the winces and glares their peers tossed Eddie's way.

Jeff had his own head in his hands having been Eddie's prior cuddle victim and still suffering the consequences from it.

"I hate you." He groaned, and every single person knew he was talking to Gareth. "I cannot believe you told him his stupid hugs didn't even compare to Steve's. He almost broke my back this morning!"

Which wasn't an understatement--Gareth himself had dodged his best friend's aggressive hugs only by bolting to his first class, then acting like a ninja as he snuck about all day.

He'd even dropped to the floor and army-crawled at one point.

Now he stayed close to Steve, blatantly using the jock as a meat shield.

"Anyone have any ideas on how we can get him to chill out?" Stewart asked, from where he'd taken refuge under the lunch table.

Their second eldest member put up with many things, but drew the line at bodily injury by overly affectionate metalhead.

"Same as always." Jeff grumbled, making sure Gareth saw his glare. "We wait him out."

"Tiff!" Eddie whined, whirling around, hands reaching out for her.

"You touch me Munson and I'll burn the trigonometry notes I promised you." Tiffany threatened without looking up from her book.

"Fine." Eddie wheeled right back around. "Graaaaant-!"

"This could take days!" Stewart complained, acting like a man caged. "I can't wait much longer!"

'Dramatic, the whole lot of them.' Gareth thought fondly, knowing he was just as bad.

"Okay. Seriously, how are we fixing this?" Jeff said sourly, as Grant once again picked Eddie up by his jacket and bodily threw him as far away as he could.

Like an eldritch being from a B horror movie, Eddie simply bounced back up and came for him again.

"His issue is that he thinks I'm the better cuddler, right? Nothing else?" Steve said thoughtfully.

"Yes." Groaned the other four in unison, as Grant laid a hand on Eddie's forehead, the latter pinwheeling his arms like a cartoon character.

Steve nodded once, before his face morphed into something devastatingly smug. "Yeah we're screwed."

Jeff switched targets from Gareth to glare at Steve instead. "Really Harrington?"

"I'm back to Harrington now? Jeff, man, you wound me." Steve faked a gasp, putting a hand over his heart.

It made Gareth grin, if only because Steve wouldn't have done that a month ago. "God I love when you're a bitch."

Steve looked over at him and winked.

"Just for that, we should make you cuddle with him." Stewart grumbled. "Tell him he can decide for himself who's better!"

Which of course killed the playful look on Steve's face.

Two pairs of shoes proceeded to kick at Stewart (who dodged Jeff's only to be nailed by Tiffany's far more tactical aim.)

Except when Gareth though about it, it actually wasn't a half-bad idea.

If one pitched it right.

"You know," Gareth said slowly, a plan forming. It was half-baked, but it'd work. "--you could end this pretty easily if you did. You have the power."

"Are we being serious right now?" Jeff grumped. "This does not feel like we're being serious."

Gareth ignore him.

"You up for one last cuddle, Sir Carrington?" He asked, playfully.

He got a flat look in return. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously suggesting the solution here is for me and Eddie to cuddle."

"I am indeed." Gareth said with a grin. "So long as it's an absolutely terrible cuddle."

That got an interesting reaction.

"Good luck, I'm an amazing cuddler." Steve huffed, offended--and it looked like he actually believed it.

A curiosity, considering even with everyone announcing themselves before touching him he still got jumpy.

"Then pretend." Gareth wheedled. "You don't even have to do it for that long. Sneeze in his ear and he'll be done for."

He got a few grossed out looks for that, but it was worth it all to see Steve growing more comfortable with the idea.

"If I were to do anything of the sort I wouldn't sneeze in his ear." The jock retorted, but he looked contemplative.

"I'm sure you could come up with something else. " Gareth suggested, and gave his best, award winning smile as he said it. "You're creative when cornered."

No ulterior motives here, no sir!

"I know what you're doing, Gareth." Steve said, calling him out immediately. "But I might be convinced to take a hit for the team--for a price. My reputation would be on the line."

"What do you want?" Stewart asked immediately, more than a little desperate as Eddie carried on in the background.

"Well..." Steve trailed off, slowly meeting each and every one of them in the eye. "what are you offering?"

"You know what?" Jeff said, putting his head back in his hands. " Just for that, you and Gareth both are on my shit list."

"I'll bake you those marble brownies you wanted and get right back off it." Steve said, the smug air only growing as Jeff sighed loudly.

"Name your price, Harrington." Stewart said, talking over Jeff's second, overly dramatic sigh. "You want some D&D treasure, or an item for your character? You got it. You want a fucking," He paused, eyes scrunching up in thought. "--new basketball? Or whatever sport ball you're into right now?"

"Not even close." Steve told him.

Jeff sighed a third time, loud and obnoxious.

"Why does this always fall down to me?" Tiff asked the ceiling, as though God himself might respond back with the answer. She tilted her head back down, aiming to make eye contact with Steve. "You're in Rucker's class right? I'll write your poly-sci paper. Highest grade I will guarantee is a B, and that is because it would be suspicious if you looked like you suddenly had strong, A-grade opinions on current, geopolitical policies."

Steve snapped and pointed towards her. "Sold!" He called, mimicking an auctioneer.

Smooth as butter, he turned towards Hurricane Eddie. "Hey Munson!"

In two seconds the jock had summoned that cocky persona of his, wearing a smarmy smile like a cloak. It was getting easier and easier to tell which "bitchy Steve" was the real one and which one was a total front.

(Tiffany had decided the man was a mean girl at his core and honestly, the label stuck.

But Mean Girl Steve was a hell of a lot different than King Steve--or any of the other overly confident swaggering personas Steve adopted like a second skin.)

For for all the preparation he'd had, was still rigid most of the time Gareth had occupied his lap, only relaxing when the younger boy had gotten Eddie so wound up their eldest friend couldn't form coherent sentences.

Now, as Steve strode over and issued the challenge of a cuddle off during the next Hellfire game, he was already less stiff.

Eddie had that effect on people. Particularly ones who had crushes on him.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever been involved in." Tiffany complained.

"Is it Tiff? Is it really?" Jeff challenged as he finally sat up.

"She's definitely forgetting the purple griffin incident." Grant said, completely ignoring what was going down on the other end of the table as he took advantage of Eddie being distracted to make his escape.

"Fine." Tiff conceded before anyone could list anything else off, "But it's at least in the top five."

"This Friday, Harrington." Eddie announced loudly then, fire in his eyes and a finger in Steve's face. "Me and you. It is on."

"Hope you're ready to lose." Steve taunted.

It was hilarious as it was ridiculous.

Which meant of course, that dumb shit had to get in the way of it.

xXx

Steve backslid the next morning.

Worse, he kept backsliding, growing worse throughout the week until the person left looked a whole lot like the guy they’d dragged to their table all those months ago.

He sat silently next to Eddie during lunch, only speaking if asked a direct question, all banter and playful bitchiness gone.

He avoided Hellfire’s members in the hallway, Stewart reporting he had been uncharacteristically silent during their one shared class.

Most damning?

He’d flinched when Eddie had done their dumb little “shoulder bumping” routine.

Which officially meant that ghost Steve was back.

(“I didn’t realize how Steve was our little ray of sunshine and positivity until he stopped being it.” Tiff complained, idly spinning a pencil in the library. “Worse, I didn’t think I’d miss it.”

Gareth, who definitely wasn’t skipping again, agreed wholeheartedly.)

Not even Eddie's antics got a smile out of Steve. He really tried too, to the point where Gareth was starting to worry his best friend was going to do something dramatic just to get a little chuckle.

Steve at least, picked up on the fact he was freaking out all of Hellfire when Grant started to get blunt with his questions.

A part of Gareth (the part that appreciated Grant’s bluntness, instead of the rest of him, that wanted to duck and cover in case it made things worse) was curious if this would finally get Steve to open up; but instead it just made things worse.

Within two direct “No really dude, what's wrong?” ’s, Steve retired the haunted act and instead brought the downright freaky return of one Hawkins' jock's doing a real good job at pretending he was okay.

Pity for him this wasn't Tommy H or the rest of the public Steve was trying to fool.

This was a group of people who tended to be hyper aware of things, ranging from their surroundings to their people. (And then went on to play, as Steve regularly teased them, “one giant math game about it.”)

Not a single one of them was fooled by the act, or the evasive answers Steve pulled out of his ass when the rest of them all, individually, in their own way, tried to figure out if their newest member was okay or just having a few bad days.

"He told me he wasn't feeling good." Jeff said, worrying his lip with his teeth when they all finally convened together after school to discuss it.

"Are we choosing to buy that?" Tiffany asked, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. "He's been off since Tuesday. It's Thursday."

Grant huffed an agreement, arms crossed over his chest.

"Devils advocate, people are typically sick for more than one day." Stewart pointed out. "Dudes probably got allergies or something, it is the end of May."

"It's not allergies." Gareth said flatly.

Allergies usually came with symptoms like coughing and sneezing.

They did not come with vacant stares and falling over one's feet when their friends said hello in the hallway.

"Well clearly he doesn't want to talk about it so maybe he'll just…work himself out of whatever it is." Jeff reasoned. "I don't know if we should really push him about it."

"And miss out on another week's worth of baking?" Stewart bemoaned, as if Steve's lack of treats was the sole reason they were concerned.

Tiff swiped at him with her paperback.

Interestingly, Eddie had yet to say much on the matter. Everyone knew he was just as worried. The guy was a secret teddy bear, and they all still knew to warn him if a dog so much as got hurt in a movie. Worse, Steve was one of his "sheepies" as he so lovingly called them all, and was notoriously defensive of Hellfire as a whole.

Gareth had been eyeing him throughout their little gathering, watching as his best friend tapped his foot anxiously.

The guy seemed lost in his own head and while it wasn't completely unusual, it too, was odd behavior.

Gareth squinted at him, making eye contact and asking if he was alright with the kind of subtle facial expressions only best friends could pull.

Eddie didn't respond, but instead, looked away.

'That's a no.' Gareth thought, as the conversation around them wound down, without anyone coming up with any solid plans on what they were going to do about the Steve situation.

This is exactly how he ended up following Eddie home.

"Inviting ourselves over I see." The elder teen muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Gareth chased him to his van, hopping into the passenger seat instead of heading for his bicycle.

"It's a good night for a smoke sess." Gareth responded casually.

"You hate smoking weed." Eddie returned with a snort. "You prefer edibles."

"Just think of what we could do with Harrington's baking skills." Gareth replied wistfully--but made sure to watch his friend.

There it was. The slightest of weird expressions, flitting over Eddie's face like a shadow before he hid it back into whatever cage it escaped from.

"You're worried." Gareth guessed. Not like that was a hard one.

"Aren't we all, Gare-Bear?" Eddie returned, eyes never leaving the road.

He pretended like he couldn't feel Gareth scanning him, taking in the too tense shoulders and the shuttered, guarded look on his face.

"You know something." Gareth guessed after a moment.

The declaration made his best friend flinch, hands squeezing tight on the wheel.

'Got you.'

"Are you going to spill or do I have to blackmail it out of you?"

"Please Gary you have nothing you could blackmail me with." Eddie challenged with a snort. "I am shameless."

A challenge that could not be ignored, if only because Gareth wanted to remind him who had had the upper hand since Steve had crashed into Hellfire.

"Really? So you wouldn't mind if I show Steve those photos of the time we dressed up as a Barbie “ken doll” band for Jeff’s sister’s birthday? You know, the one were you were wearing that pink boa and the star glasses--”

A hand shot out, clapping Gareth over the mouth.

"Thank you, I got it!" Eddie said, voice an octave higher than normal. "Why do you still even have that!?"

"My mom." Gareth managed to get out, even if it was horribly muffled between Eddie's bony fingers.

"Curse that woman's thirst for nostalgia and scrapbooks." Eddie hissed, as if his mom was some grand villain.

"You love her crafts, you ass." Gareth rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth when Eddie finally removed his hand. "Now spill."

"I'm not sure this is what's causing it." The elder cautioned after a pause just long enough to be dramatic. "But rumor has it his parents are home."

"You think they're why he's acting all…" Gareth trailed off, unsure of what to compare Steve to and not wanting to say a kicked dog.

Eddie hummed in agreement. "Every time I walk into Steve's house, the place starts off feeling like a living tomb. There’s got to be a reason for that, and the only one I can think of is that his parents want that. The tomby-ness."

Gareth leaned back in his seat, contemplating. Turned the idea of Steve's mysterious parents over in his head, comparing it to how the guy's house did have a sort of museum quietness to it.

It wasn't that the place was huge, or even that Steve was typically its solo occupant beyond the occasional weekends one or both of his parents "popped in."

It was the perfectness of it.

How on any given day a photographer could show up to take pictures and the place would be camera ready.

A sort of--trophy house.

He went on to tell his best friend this.

"It’s like a shrine to their success." Eddie added an hour later, when they'd resettled onto his couch, trying to break down just what exactly about Steve's house made it so weird.

They'd shared a beer each--some gross kind that a cat couldn't have gotten buzzed off of, and Gareth had just finished helping Eddie select their chosen flower to roll when an awkward sound erupted throughout the trailer.

If Gareth knew any better, he'd say it almost sounded like someone was knocking on the shitty aluminum door.

Couldn't be though, because he'd never in his life heard someone knock--Eddie's uncle Wayne had a key, and every member of Hellfire was aware that the window in Eddie's room had a broken lock.

To get it open you just had to push at it from a specific angle, and with a few tugs it'd come right up for you.

The noise came again, this time a little louder.

Gareth looked to Eddie, and found his friend holding all the weed.

Understanding flashed between them, and Gareth stood up to answer the door as Eddie magically made the drugs disappear.

Thankfully, it wasn't the cops.

"Hey." Steve said, standing awkwardly on Eddie's porch, looking like he desperately wanted inside but wasn't sure he'd be allowed in. "Eddie said I could just come over if I needed to…?"

He trailed off, awkwardly miming smoking with his fingers.

Gareth couldn't hold in the snort.

"You're in luck man, because I just finished rolling a few." He said, stepping back to let their wayward jock in.

"Hey Stevie." Eddie drawled, now in the process of making the weed reappear. "Come in, have a seat, take a puff."

Rather than sit on the admittedly small couch, Steve chose instead to drop his ass to the floor, leaving the open spot above him to Gareth. He waited until the younger was seated before he leaned back, broad shoulders brushing both his friends legs as he relaxed.

Eddie’s hand twitched, as though he wanted to run it through Steve’s hair and thought better of it.

(Knowing him as Gareth did, that was very likely exactly what the weird little movement of his was.)

“You wanna tell us what’s goin’ on?” Eddie said softly, long after all three of them had an inhale of the joint Eddie had lit, sitting in relaxed silence. "Cause you've been pretty down, Stevie."

"Yeah." Steve agreed hollowly. "Sorry."

Eddie nudged his leg with a foot, then offered him the blunt again. "Don't apologize man, we can't all be sunshine and rainbows."

“You’d be surprised at how many people expect an apology for just that.” Steve muttered.

Gareth traded careful looks over Steve’s head, Eddie turning back and resolutely plowing on.

“You don’t have to, but talking tends to make people feel better.”

“Does it?” Steve asked, before taking a slow, measured inhale of the joint.

Idly he added; "Gareth you can't roll for shit."

"Fuck you dude!" The younger teen exclaimed, instantly offended, but knew a redirect when he saw one. "You try rolling them then!" He snatched the joint out of Steve's hands, huffing audibly.

It was an offer. If Steve didn't want to take the opening Eddie had given him, he could instead take the out Gareth had given.

The option reminded him of Alice in Wonderland (Gareth’s actual favorite movie, even if he tells everyone else it's The Empire Strikes Back)

Specifically when Alice was lost, standing before a split path and asking advice from the Cheshire Cat.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" Alice asks.

The Cheshire Cat spins its head, smiling its smile as it answers;“ That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."

Steve proved himself to be a stronger man that Gareth had given him credit for, and took the harder path.

"My parents are home." He said, eyes glued to the TV in front of him, as if that would make the conversation easier.

Perhaps it did.

Eddie to his credit, didn't treat the declaration as anything important. "Yeah? They bring you something nice back from New York?"

"Florida this time and no."

Steve fussed with a thread on his sweater for a moment, a single yellow thread unspooling from the end. It looked like he’d been tugging at it a lot, a small imperfection on an otherwise expensive looking piece of clothing.

"Apparently I've been such a disappointment they're demanding I get a job." He began again. "They want me to learn the realities of hard work."

Gareth traded puzzled glances with Eddie.

Steve had never shied from hard work.

Everyone had heard the story of how he’d won over every coach in Hawkins' High’s favor. It was practically school legend, since he was the first freshmen to take up and finish some bullshit exercise challenge they hosted every year.

The guy even had a herd of some of the most obnoxious children he looked after, without pay.

There was no way the source of whatever was eating at him was a summer job.

Or perhaps, not just a summer job.

"Summer jobs fucking suck, but I hear that new mall’s finally finished.” Gareth said hesitantly. “You could probably get in somewhere there before you head off to college.”

"I'm not going to college. Didn't get into any." Steve said flatly.

Ah-ha.

"I only applied to the one Nancy made me." He added, still refusing to look at either of them. "Couldn't bring myself to apply to any of the others."

Which--odd, but it wasn't the oddest thing ever. Some people just didn't like school, or traditional learning methods.

No matter how much Gareth's counselor insisted otherwise.

"My dad found that out too." Steve said after a moment.

"College isn't the fucking answer to life." Gareth continued. "There's plenty of other things you can do."

Eddie’s head cocked, like a dog who’d been presented with a puzzle.

Steve shrugged. "That's not my issue with it, but the old man thinks it is. He keeps insisting that the free rides are over now." His voice kicked into a deep mockery of his fathers at the end, the condescending tone coming through loud and clear. “Thinks I'm here to screw my girlfriend and party my life away. Wouldn't hear me about not wanting to go to college, at all. Definitely didn't care that I broke up with Nancy." The last part was muttered, almost said more to himself and for himself than it was for them.

Eddie’s head tilted the other way.

"Did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?" Gareth asked. He figured it they knew, they might be at least able to help.

He got a shrug in response.

Gareth was about to open his mouth--probably to put his foot in it, but hell if Steve wanted help brainstorming what he did want to do with his life, or at least get positive support from someone who wasn't a rich asshole, it might as well start here.

Eddie beat him to the punch though, because as usual, Eddie was able to track the weird unspoken thing that no one else could pick up on.

"It's the kids, isn't it?" Eddie asked softly. Reverently. "You don't want to leave Hawkins, because of the kids."

Steve took another sip of beer, waving off the joint Gareth offered him. For someone who'd come to smoke he'd barely touched it or the beer, but then no one here would push.

It was pretty obvious, (to Gareth anyway) that the weed had been a flimsy excuse to begin with.

"When those damn kids started trying to trap the--dogs." Steve started, correcting his slip so smoothly Gareth almost didn't pick up that he'd intended to say something else. “I was the only damn adult they could find.”

Steve gave up fiddling with his sweater to tug angrily at his beer tab, twisting and pulling at it.

"They had figured out where the dogs would be. Had an entire meat bucket they wanted to use as bait and but I was the only damn person to try and at least wrangle the little shits. You wanna know how they found me?" He picked up steam now, and Eddie couldn't even be satisfied that he'd managed to hit the nail on the head because clearly whatever was happening here was the actual thing Steve needed to get off his chest.

"Football practice?" Gareth asked mostly to fill in the tension-filled pause, and then ducked from the swat Eddie aimed his way.

Steve blew out a harsh, mocking breath.

"Dustin found me on the way to Nancy's house, where I was planning on apologizing. Had flowers and everything."

Oh.

Steve's tone said a hell of a lot more than that, the raw emotion making Gareth's own stomach roll.

A careful glance showed an equally punched-out expression on Eddie's face, the metalhead having physically reared back like Steve's words had struck him.

"What were you apologizing for?" He asked, recovering faster than Gareth could.

"Honestly man? I don't know." Steve laughed then, a harsh little disbelieving noise. "I just knew Nancy had said--well she said some shit while drunk, and wasn't able to say some shit sober, and I realized after that maybe I--I rushed her or something you know?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a self soothing behavior. "Or that I did, fuck I don't know. She's Nancy Wheeler, she's smarter than me by a longshot, so if she was mad, than I figured I must be at fault." Steve shrugged, like that was a fact of life.

Eddie interrupted immediately. "She's not smarter than you."

"I--what?"

"Nancy isn't smarter than you.' Eddie repeated firmly. "She's booksmart, Stevie. School smart. Nancy Wheeler absolutely owns tests and papers and things you need to study for, and she’s a hell of a researcher--but she's not people smart."

"What?" Steve repeated incredulously and there Gareth caught a flash of bitchy Steve.

The real one, who'd been shoved aside by the apathetic version.

"Have you ever seen that girl get fixated on something? She's tenacious, gets her teeth in and won't let go.” Eddie snapped his teeth, shaking his head while growling like a dog.

Gareth rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile graced Steve’s face.

“But she hasn't figured out how that hurts people yet. She's caught up in getting the results. She's not intentionally unkind, she's just--a little out of touch." Eddie flopped back against the couch, making a grabby gesture for the joint Gareth now held. “People like you--”

Here, he poked Steve in the chest, before reaching past him to wave his hand obnoxiously in Gareth’s face for the joint (and get smacked at for the effort) “are people smart.”

"That's not--no." Steve protested head jerking from Eddie's fingers to Eddie's face, but it was weak, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes.” Eddie mocked, but it was in jest, proven by the easy, soft smile he gave Steve. “You said it yourself. The kids go to you, man. They go to you even now, when Nancy or Jonathan could be driving them all over town. You get people; how they work, how they tick, what makes them happy or sad, and people are drawn to you because of that.”

“Jonathan drives.” Steve muttered in disagreement.

“And yet we all witnessed the clown car act when all those kids came out of your backseat two weekends ago.” Eddie refuted. “You’re just as smart as Nancy is, Steve. Just in a different way.”

Steve frowned.

“My parents don’t see it like that.”

“Your parents can get fucked, Sweetheart.”

That was pushing it, but Steve didn't comment on the nickname. Never commented on any nicknames Eddie came up with, beyond the occasional eye roll.

Which is right about when the phone rang.

They all glanced towards it, then down at their respective watches.

It was well past midnight.

"Think that's Wayne?" Gareth asked, eyebrows raising as Eddie stood to answer the phone.

His friend just shrugged, before picking up.

"Munson Mortuary, you stab em we slab em." He chirped as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Tiffy-Taffy isn't it kinda late for--whoa." Eddies easy smile flipped, back going ramrod straight. "Slow down, what happened?" And oh, shit, that was Eddie's "somethings wrong and I'm going to fix it" voice.

Gareth sat up, making sure the joint Eddie had put down was out as he stared worriedly at Eddie.

"Okay. Gareth and Steve are with me, we're all coming." Eddie finished, prompting Steve to also sit up. "Stay there and for the love of God, tell Stewart not to touch anything else."

"What happened." Steve and Gareth demanded as one.

It'd be funny if the look on Eddie's face wasn't so serious.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to break my promise about not going to the lab, Steve." He said, a hand going to tug anxiously at his hair.

"What?" Steve said, immediately on the defensive.

Then; "Why?"

"Because all our darling friends went to the Hawkin's lab without us. Apparently they ran into some kids on the way and now Stewart's stuck in a hole."

“All of them?” Gareth questioned, because sure, yeah he could see Stewart doing it. Could see Grant and even Jeff really, but Tiffany? Out exploring an abandoned lab that had killed people?

On a school night?

"She's gonna give us the full story when we get there, she called from the nearest payphone. Had some kid who kept interrupting her so she just gave me the basics, but apparently Stewart is really stuck, and for some reason the damn kids won't let anyone try to get him from some other door. They keep saying it's not safe or some shit." Eddie's anxious tugging grew as he moved to snatch up his wallet and keys, walking and talking as it were.

Gareth had expected a reaction out of Steve then, but what he hadn't expected was Steve to surge to his feet in a near panic.

"Kids!?" He shouted, eyes wide and frantic.

Eddie flinched, but Gareth knew immediately what the jock was thinking.

"You don't think they're your feral pack of kids--do you?" He asked.

"It's always them so yes, yes I do." Steve snarled and for the first time that week, the guy looked alive.

Gareth just wished it was under better circumstances.

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jikimo-world · 2 months

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Part 1/Part 2/Part 3 ⬆️/Part 4

From beginning

Prev/Next

"Please save him from what I could do to him"

#tw blood #tw child murder mention #hetalia #aph france #hws france #hws prussia #aph prussia #hws austria #hws switzerland #aph austria #hws hre #hws holy roman empire #aph hre #aph holy roman empire #aph switzerland #All these characters (Not France) belong to the Germanic stock but for me they aren't biologically related!#Germania isn't the biological father of any of them but chose to adopt them so they lived all together (there were also other kids)#Headcanon: After the fall of the latin empire Germania felt sorry for the terrible condition of the Rome's descendants but #was able to rescue only France #“May I save at least one of them”#Fun fact: The green sharpie oxidized in blue so the drawings have different linearts #You can distinctly see which are older or younger #When I wrote the Wolf line I didn't think about this simbolism but a friend interpreted in this way:#Wolf is a simbol of the Roman empire so France is talking about himself and how dangerous he could be for the baby #“Prussia looks like he saw the face of death”#“Oh but he just did it”

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uncanny-tranny · 4 months

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The biggest saving grace I feel I've done is to get into death positivity, to learn to appreciate death. It's definitely not going to help for many, but I have found that not stigmatizing my own interest and desire for death has greatly helped. Being able to interact with death not as a punishment, but as a way to express humanity has been truly what has made me feel more human. I no longer want to feel ashamed of this aspect of myself, and it's made me want to live. Death has done unto me life.

#death positive #death tw #death mention tw #suicide mention tw #ask to tag (genuine)#i have been trying to interact with more death positivity. it's helped not only my own thoughts but also grief...#...and grief is something i know intimately that i do not process and deal with 'normally'#i am CERTAINLY not saying that you should adopt these ideas for yourself but rather i am sharing what has worked for me...#...my hope is that i can help motivate others to find what works for THEM...#...to not feel SHAME over it. the shame is the enemy. the fear and self-loathing and self-hatred are the enemies...#...i used to feel so ashamed and humiliated about this aspect of me because of how... out there it was...#...but i genuinely cannot live the way the world does and i have TRIED #i don't want ANYbody EVER feeling that way. not if i can even try to help y'know?#i am really grateful to the people who have posted about death and the process because it has really been an important topic #death is nuanced and complicated and it isn't fair a lot of times - it's absolutely fair to not *like* death

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void-of-unparalled-chaos · 6 months

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Me: "Okay so let's do some family fluff this chapter!"

Jason "this character can fit so much angst and bad coping mechanisms in him" Todd: "Or what if I immediately have an obsession-induced panic attack and unintentionally self-harm?"

Me: "...Okay yeah I guess we can do that..."

#ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic #yeah i'm still trying to think of a title for it #dpxdc #jason todd #tw self harm #tw self harm mention #my writing #writing wip

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octopus-in-disguise · 4 months

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American Arcadia spoilers underneath the cut!

So what exactly are the implications of the baby farm Angela discovers in the Hexagon? Like, are *all* the Arcadia born citizens raised this way? Surely some must be the natural product of relationships between citizens, right? Or are they all just raised by Walton Media until a certain point and then injected into Arcadian society? Like maybe I’m overthinking it but I really can’t wrap my head around this. Is there something obvious I’m overlooking?

#american arcadia #all this because of a throwaway line I wrote about Trevor’s parents #like did he know his birth parents?#was he adopted?#did he have any parents at all?#like he must have #right??#I mean he mentions the ‘Hills genes’ but like #idk I could just take the line out of the fic #but now I really wanna figure this out #american arcadia spoilers #possible tw for mistreatment of infants?

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thefastestelementalmasteralive · 14 days

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procrastinating school work so let me talk about my starwars (Anakin) aus

There's that lion!Vader Au, if I named it I don't remember the name but basically, either Anakin doesn't tell Padme where he's going or she doesn't go to Mustafar. might actually have R2D2 with Padme as her bodyguard or Anakin just didn't want r2 to know what he did to the separatist leaders. anakin doesn't come back from Mustafar because when he leaves the planet, the force decides 'okay, enough atrocities for the next... two decades.' and transforms him into a lion and sends him to a green planet. Sidious finds him a year later and decides to just build a gladiator ring and throw him in there to execute the people he wants dead on television.

19 years later Luke, Leia, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Padme, Cody, and Rex all get captured and are sentenced to be executed as a group with some other non-important people. Anakin eats the non-important people and vaguely recognizes some but tries to kill Luke and Leia because he doesn't recognize them.

SITS au - sith in the senate au - me trying to explore my favorite arc (mortis) and what would have happened if Anakin left with the son (and the daughter) and the father let Ahsoka and Obi-wan go thirty minutes later but Anakin is nowhere in sight when they go back to the real world. this is also the au where the Tusken massacre is really addressed in this au, in others it didn't happen, obviously in lion!vader it did since it only changes in rots. i don't know if it's really a character study that I'm doing for this au but I'm actually writing an essay on Anakin for my writing class and I'm so using elements from this for that and from that for this.

(please- someone stop me from making Barriss run away from the Jedi and Anakin adopting Barriss after she ends up on Tatooine and Anakin gets over his initial feeling of 'YOU D:<')

14!au. i have no other name for it as of right now.

anakin gets found by Palpatine and Shmi dies (i think) but surely its not you Pal Friendpatine's fault :0

Anyway, Palpatine finds Anakin at like... 5 and adopts him and brings him on his path to becoming chancellor and then the clone wars start at the Naboo blockade, Palpatine started cloning **early**. no, I have no idea how old Jango Fett is, why do you ask? anakin befriends some of the clones and takes an interest in politics because he thinks he can convince then senate to stop creating clones and just recruit normal civilians to the army.

this au is inspired by Hazbin Hotel song 'you didn't know' and some brave group of clones tries to plead their case to the senate, ankin watches in on it, nala se mentions the chips in the kaminoan rebuttal of clone rights and Anakin FREAKS. palpatine tries to calm him saying 'they are to control them, they're dangerous otherwise' and basically dooms himself. also, Anakin specifically has wings. see, I subscribe to the thinking of 'Anakin can shapeshift due to his unstable DNA' Edit: I Found it! @thewildballyntynesgrow or mballyntyne on Ao3 with their series 'A Wild Thing to Tame'. Anakin leaves taking a majority of the coruscant guard with him and goes back to Tatooine and starts freeing a whole bunch of planets over the years. the meeting in the senate takes place when he is fourteen, the empire starts when he is seventeen. Anakin adopts Boba and Galen Marek. anakin and the freed outer rim either hide rebel bases or use their revolutions as distractions for the empire.

Retconned rebel Anakin Au. aka, Barriss is the same age as Anakin and befriends him and Ferus eventually befriends him, and Anakin is closer to those two and some others than Obi-wan and Ahsoka (who is Obi-wan's padawan) Barriss never bombs the temple, the empire rises but the original empire dies like a year into the reign and another emperor rises.... Emperor Obi-wan Kenobi and his daughter Ahsoka how are both overly attached to rebel leader Anakin Skywalker and are both trying to adopt him and turn him to their side... by kidnapping Anakin's family. (rexanidala). anakin adopts so many kids, most of them are force-sensitive and want to fight so he lets them reluctantly but those not young enough to choose or fight are sent to live with Rex, Padme, Luke, Leia, and their grandparents; Dooku and Plo.

Ventress and Anakin Swap au, sort of. anakin got nabbed from his mom by Dooku. Dooku never found Ventress, Obi-wan does instead. Obi does not train Ventress but they are friends forever after. ventress tries forcefully redeeming the seventeen-eighteen year old Sith lord and it only sort of works. he defects but really only after he finds out about the slavery in creating battle droids. Anakin isn't really a separatist general, he just has a specialized group of droids that he rebuilds after fights with Jedi. he never fights clones with droids.

after defecting Anakin plans with Ventress and decides to free the outer rim then take the former slaves that will join him and start up a third party to the war. inspired by 'blood oath' by the art of pleasing princes.

okay so for this next au, named Anakin Umakkar, The rain storm. sources are ADragonsFriend and @fialleril or fialleril on a03, and @clawedandcute or ClawedandCute (Adi_Fire) on a03. and songs this au is inspired by for this au is (and in order) Puppeteer, Done For, Hell is Forever, There are Other Ways, What Did I Miss? and Respectless.

Umakkar was a name I first read about in a book called 'Elder sisters' by ADragonsFriend. I first heard about Ekkreth in Fialleril's books. the concept of Anakin staying on Tatooine was inspired by ClawedandCute's book and au 'The Accidental Sith'

Anyway, Qui-gon and the queen's ship never stops on Tatooine, but the clone wars do not start early. a solid two months into the Clone Wars, it is revealed that Jabba the Hutt has been dead for a year, and Tatooine has freed itself from the huts. Senator Padme Amidala and Jedi Obi-wan Kenobi (and Padawan Ahsoka Tano) are sent to Tatooine to try to get Tatooine to align with the republic. now please listen to Puppeteer and Done For (no, Anakin does not turn any clones into pigs, just like any non-clone serving in the army ). once Obi-wan draws his lightsaber on Anakin, Anakin just swipes it away, unhurt, and has him and other... three (Cody, Padme, and Ahsoka)locked up until he decided to hear them out. (cue hell is forever, the last lines being, "the freed outer rim has found both the separatists and the republic to be the enemy" ya know due to their armies) then when it looks like Anakin is gonna do something to them to send a message to the republic, Obi-wan pleads with him and mentions the Sith Dooku mentioned and any evil smile on Anakin's face slips away into annoyance "Sidious, huh?" and in 'There are other ways' fashion tells obi-wan about Mortis and other wells in the force that might be better for the Jedi to focus at. when asked why he had that reaction to the 'Sidious' character, he implies that Sidious has reached out to him to join either side of the war, like once per side.

he sends Obi-Wan and the Clones that want to return on their way and a year later decides that enough is enough and heads to Coruscant under the pretense of negotiating. palpatine sets up a committee to welcome Tatooine to the republic only for 'respectless' to happen and Anakin starts arguing with Orn Free Taa, then Palpatine himself and once Palpatine leaves, turns to the Jedi in the room and says "yeah, you might want to look into that..." and leaves.

Detached Mortis god au: inspired by the ocean saga

switching up the timeline here, Rako Hardeen happens, the Wrong Jedi arc happens, *Then* mortis happens. Anakin is alone on Mortis, he decides to stay, Padme is pregnant, the empire rises, Padme survives and joins the rebellion, Ahsoka becomes Fulcrum. Obi-wan joins the rebellion to help train Luke and Leia. Luke, Leia, Han, Ezra and some others start on a mission, but it starts off rough. Ezra decides to pray to a Force Diety he or Ahsoka met once and the diety appears and decides to grant them safe passage to the actual start of the mission as long as they keep Ahsoka, who they meet up with later on the mission, safe. if they accept and fail, another god is going to have a really big problem with them. they accept and all goes well until the last day of the mission, everything falls apart and Ahsoka is separated from the group and captured. the gang decides they need to go back to base to think and plan. on their way back their ship is seemingly attacked but they cant tell by what, they crash land at base and get out of the ship, not the falcon, only to meet two dragon-like-creatures, and a portal opens and a very pissed Anakin steps out. he kidnaps a bunch of rebels and puts them in the world between worlds and tells them they only get their people back when Ahsoka is safe. Obi-Wan and Padme only make it to the hangar this goes down once Anakin has stepped back through the portal.

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sparkiekong · 3 months

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Monitoring Kasha 4/4

All of these things set upon Kasha an increasing urge to flee with Lycara. This urge was nearing a point of no return when she caught a strange scent in the wind and had seen someone meeting in secret with Meena. Kasha sat on the balcony with Lycara cooing and smiling at her.

“I don’t think you’re going to do well with Meena… but I don’t think you’ll do any better with me. I don’t know what to do little one. You’re so small and innocent. Your brothers are already trying to spar with each other while you can barely keep your head up. Maybe you’re just a normal human child?”

Lycara just cooed and smiled at her while tugging on her braids. Kasha shook her head, “I am lost, little one. I need to do something… We could go back to her; she may forgive me now that I can access my form again. She’d be a good mom, I think. Yeah, I think we’re going to go see her. I can’t let you go with Meena… I just can’t. Cat will take good care of you, she did me.” She held onto Lycara tightly while she planned their escape.

#sims 4 #ksu #sims 4 story #ts4 story #ts4 #the axiom conclusion #tac #Kasha #Lycara #adoption plans #child abandonment tw #child abandonment mention

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fiendishartist2 · 1 year

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guilty of your innocence– mp100

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Ms. Serizawa!”

The man on her doorstep was holding out a very sweaty hand. When she took it, she was treated to the clammiest handshake she had ever experienced.

Her boy– lovely, sweet, naive Katsuya– was smiling at her, eyes wide and imploring. Despite the grin pulling at his lips, his hands were shaking where they were clasped in front of his chest. Poor Katsuya looked like he was on the brink of collapse. The nervous tilt of his eyebrows were screaming at her to accept the man.

She didn’t know whether to spare his feelings or tell the truth.

Katsuya had called her earlier in the day, asking if she was free for a visit after work. For her son, she would always be free, she told him– but she accepted anyway. Despite their previously strained relationship, Katsuya was one of her favourite people. She loved when he swung by her residential area, coming for lunch or dinner whenever he made time in his busy schedule.

He told her he had a surprise for her– someone he wanted her to meet. She was ecstatic, of course; still overwhelmingly proud of her son for getting out into the world. And now, he was meeting people and making friends! She baked snacks with vigour, fueled by the need to impress whoever their guest would be.

Now she wished she hadn’t broken her back over those little cakes.

The man Katsuya presented her with was incredibly underwhelming– if not downright concerning. He spoke with a certain degree of smarminess, like he was trying to sell her something. His smile glinted– sharp and intelligent, but much too disarming. The man’s arms pinwheeled around as he spoke at a mile a minute; the lack of self-awareness was another red-flag raised with the others. Adding to his persona, the man’s hair was an unnatural shade of blond, the colour of box bleach done in the middle of the night in a cramped bathroom. On his strung-out frame, he wore an oversized– yet puzzlingly too-small– suit. It crinkled, thin fabric bunching up around his waist and shoulders. The pant legs didn’t quite reach his ankles, revealing unprofessional magenta socks. He was trying to distract her with his big, showy smiles and empty niceties– and she was already suspicious.

With narrowed eyes, she sized him up. She instilled as much distrust into her glare as her 5’3” stature could manage. Judging by the beads of sweat gathering under his bangs, the man was rightfully intimidated.

Katsuya led them into the house, passing by his mother to plant the man in her living room. He left him alone with a squeeze of his shoulder. The man looked like he was trying desperately to not throw up on her carpet. He smiled around his clear nausea– she wanted to laugh at the way his face was nearly green, like a cartoon character, but alarms were going off in her ears. She didn't like this disingenuous man who had swept up her Katsuya at all.

As Katsuya puttered around the kitchen, collecting mugs and tea bags as he set water boiling in the kettle with his powers, she sat on the armchair opposite the man, cornering him.

She levelled him with another icy look, crossing her arms. The man straightened, steeling himself like he was getting ready for an argument.

"Who are you?" She asked bluntly. He barely faltered, crossing his legs and leaning in. He still had that sickly-sweet customer service smile plastered on his face.

"Reigen Arataka," he stopped, like he was about to continue that sentence, but decided against it at the last minute. Pink dusted his cheeks and he cleared his throat, "I'm Katsuya's… business partner. It's nice to meet you Ms…?" He reiterated. She didn't return the sentiment.

She hummed, brushing him off, "And how do you know my son?"

Clanging sounded from the kitchen, causing her to startle– Katsuya must have dropped something. Concern flashed across Reigen's face as he peered into the kitchen, eyebrows drawn in a look that conveyed worry where she expected fear. It had been a long time since the sound of something hitting the floor in her home was cause for light concern instead of anxiety. Reigen relaxed when a bright "I'm okay!" floated in from the kitchen.

"Well, that's actually a funny story," he started, uncrossing and crossing his legs again the opposite way. It was like he couldn't stop moving, "Katsuya and I actually met at his old uh– 'job'."

Her heart stopped beating.

The last time a man in a suit with a fake smile and hollow words took her Katsuya, she lost him for three years. To hear that they met through the abusive man her son had just barely escaped from was a punch to the gut.

Already, Reigen was trying to explain himself. His hands flailed around like restless hummingbirds and if she hadn't been lost in her own fear and anger, she would want to bat them away.

"Not- I mean, it was after his old boss was arrested and- and I am not part of Claw or anything like that-!" He swiped a sweaty hand across his sweaty face, laughing shrilly, "You see, my kids– well, they're not really my kids but- but anyways!"

Was Katsuya in a bad place again?

It seemed like he was getting better– he had his own apartment that he paid for with his own money. She thought he had a real job, since he earned a consistent wage and spoke highly of his new boss– even quite affectionately at times. Katsuya went to school, he had friends; he was finally experiencing the world in a way she never thought possible. Nothing like the closed off, frightened boy she had known his whole life.

But, had he just been passed from one controlling force to another? Did she fail to see her son was struggling again?

Katsuya returned from the kitchen. His bubbly presence cut off Reigen's flustered ramblings, attention drawn solely to him. In his hands, Katsuya carried two steaming mugs of tea; behind him, a third cup bobbed lazily in the air, suspended in a shimmering cloud of magenta and black. She tried not to stare at the obvious and carefree display of psychic powers– but after so many years of it being just a depressing background hum in her home, it was still surprising to see it expressed so openly.

He handed them each a mug, sitting next to Reigen and letting his own settle gracefully into his cupped hands.

"Watch out, it's still hot," he murmured, earning an unimpressed pout from Reigen. Katsuya giggled into his tea and she nearly choked on her own– it had to have been years since she heard him sound so happy.

"So, what were you guys talking about?" Katsuya asked innocently. Reigen winced, turning away and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Just- ah… how we met." He confessed sullenly. In the tense silence, Reigen sipped his tea at an obnoxious volume. He set it down seconds later with a yelp.

Katsuya pursed his lips, carefully avoiding eye contact with his mother.

"Oh."

She cut in with a stern tone, "Katsuya," worry settled just under her words, "I thought you were done with that whole organisation. Are you…" She cleared her throat, but her voice still came out as nothing more than a whisper, "Do you need help, sweetheart?"

Her son looked absolutely stricken.

"Wh- Mama, what do you mean? Of course I'm not part of Claw anymore. I told you, they disbanded," his hands hugged his cup tighter as they started trembling, "A-and… um, I like where I am now."

His free hand wrapped around Reigen's arm, wrinkling the cheap fabric. A blotchy red blush spread across Reigen's entire face– just the sight of it gave her second hand embarrassment. Then her son's words caught up with her.

This is the man her son chose? This annoying, two-faced, car-salesman-esque man? A man who had power over him as his boss– and wasn't that just like his old 'employer'? Wasn't Suzuki just another person with too much control over her Katsuya– her poor son who would flock to anyone who could point him in the direction of normalcy–

Beeping filled the air; her cakes were done in the oven.

She set her mug down harshly. Tea splashed over the edges, staining her nearly spotless coffee table.

Ms. Serizawa stomped into her kitchen, breathing angrily through the tightness in her chest. Her heart spasmed with each intake, sending her head spinning. She propped herself up against the counter.

She balled her fists at her sides; her shoulders hunched as she squeezed her eyes shut. The tightness in her chest spread to her throat.

She failed again. Katsuya was going to be taken away from her again and it would be her fault for not noticing again. What was wrong with her? How could she be such a horrible mother? Was she just that negligent that he felt like he couldn't come to her for help? Was she not reaching out enough? It had to be her– there had to be a reason that her Katsuya kept falling into the hands of so many controlling men– it was a clear pattern and all signs pointed to her failure as a parent.

Soft footsteps shuffled up to her. He held his breath in anticipation, but didn't try to start the conversation.

"Why?" She mumbled, voice strangled. Katsuya sighed, shuffling closer to her side. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted him lift his arm– as if he was going to snake it around her shoulders– and then let it drop as he averted his eyes.

"Is it me?" She asked, again with no explanation, "Am I a bad mother, Katsuya?"

He startled, looking up from his feet to stare at her in disbelief.

"What? Why would you say that, of course you're- what makes you think that?" He stumbled over his words but she could see the genuine worry on his face. She could have laughed at how relieved that made her. Katsuya believed in everyone in his life, despite the ways he had been burned by that same trust. Whether anyone actually deserved that earnest support, though, was something she often doubted.

The green number on the digital display of her oven flashed '0:00' over and over. Every few seconds, it let out a piercing shriek, reminding her that her cakes would be ruined soon if she didn't do something about it. She didn't move turn the oven off.

"I let all of this happen to you and now look!" He tensed, "You're being taken advantage of again-"

"I am not being taken advantage of." The low rumble of his voice made her finally look up at him. Her son's face was set into a disillusioned scowl; eyebrows set low and mouth puckered into a frown.

Some part of her– buried deep down since her son left for Claw– wanted to hide from that angry face. Anger meant powers and powers always meant bad things in her home.

She could never be afraid of her lovely Katsuya, but psychic powers? Her stomach roiled for the first time in a while.

Slowly, his face smoothed back into worry. A wry smile pulled at his lips.

"I'm not as naive as you think I am," he chuckled without any humour, gaze fixed on his hands as he picked at his thumbnail, "Is that what you're worried about?"

She couldn't bring herself answer him. Shame flooded her stomach.

"Reigen is nothing like Suzuki," he continued resolutely. Fondness creased his eyes, "He's helped me become someone I can be proud of. I'm grateful for all of the opportunities he's given me, but…"

Katsuya looked up at her, face sharp with determination.

"But, I'm also helping myself. Reigen is different because– well, because he makes me feel different," she wanted to argue with him, but he steamrolled over her in a way she never would have expected, "I have my own life– I set boundaries and have friends outside of the office. Suzuki…" Katsuya blinked rapidly, face darkening again, "He didn't want me going to school or-or seeing you like I do now. He didn't want me to know anything except what he told me."

"I like when Reigen's proud of me," he admitted, hand finding a perch on his neck as he smiled abashedly, "But I don't need his approval like I needed Suzuki's. I don't need him to make me feel… uhm– feel like I'm worth something."

He stared down at her, eyes glittering with untapped emotion. Hope danced between the gentle tilt of his eyebrows and pooled in the upturned corners of his mouth. All she could do was nod her head in acknowledgement.

He spoke softer now, pressing a light hand on her back, "I can take care of myself now. You don't have to worry so much about me, Mama."

"Yes I do!" She choked out, tears springing to her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back consolingly.

"Trust me? Please?" He asked, meeker than his grandiose speech, but just as earnest. She shook her head.

"I don't know how to do that…" She admitted into his shoulder, speaking so softly she couldn't be sure he heard her. She didn't know if she wanted him to.

He pulled away and her heart twisted.

"Why not start now?" Another voice joined from the doorway. Reigen waved at her ruefully. Quickly, she dried her damp cheeks on a tea towel.

Katsuya huffed out a content laugh, shaking his head at Reigen's incredibly well-timed (and definitely calculated) entrance. She joined in, a little hysterically, after a while. She shook with the weight of her tumultuous emotions, anchoring herself with a hand on Katsuya's shoulder.

The oven timer beeped again and she jumped out of her skin.

"My cakes!" She shouted, horror wiping away all traces of the sorrow that had made its home in the creases of her face.

Armed with a pair of oven mitts and two men trying to mask their mirth with sympathy, she fished out the mini cakes she spent all afternoon baking.

They were blackened with char.

She ran a hand through her hair, tossing them out swiftly before her guest could get a good look at them. Katsuya rubbed her shoulder, still chucking a little under his breath.

"It's okay, Mama, don't worry about it." He smiled reassuringly.

"Thank you, honey, it's just… I don't have anything else to give you two other than tea."

"Oh!" Reigen dashed out of the room, rustling around the front hall. He came back with a sheepish smile on his face, brandishing a plate of cookies to her.

"They're not perfect, but I wanted to make something for you– and y'know, Teru really needed help with this baking assignment so I thought, why not, right? You don't have to take them, obviously, I made them at like midnight yesterday– and they probably have all kinds of grubby kid germs since Teru couldn't stop tasting the frosting no matter how many times I–"

"God, does this one ever shut up? Give those here." She swiped at her eyes subtly, taking the plate from a dumbstruck Reigen.

Katsuya laughed the hardest she had ever heard him.

#not 100% sure with this one but i think its heartfelt and yknow thats all that matter to me #also not sure if serizawa's mother is consistent but i think she is?? i tried idk #but i do really like the discussion of reigen vs toichiro bc i think the way they seem similar from an outsider's perspective-#-is so interesting #also obligatory serirei lol they're in love always in everything i make <333 #bit of dadgen sprinkled in there too bc i think its both v funny and v sweet how hes adopted these kids who have families already lol #except for teru </3 rip #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #my fic #idk how to tag serizawa's mom but shes there too #toichiro suzuki #mentioned ig #im not feeling too well tonight but i liked making this and i think i feel a little better now :)#tw abuse #they talk about toichiro a lot so watch out for that #this is NOT shipping toichiro and serizawa tho i want to make that clear. they were not in a relationship in this fic #gn yall <3

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ask-the-blueverse · 3 months

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Recovering Solar, how's the recovery going?

(The time that the adopted characters are in is a month after the Afton Crisis, that's what they're referring to)

#fnaf security breach #daycare attendant #adopted characters #recovering solar #anon #tsams au #sams au #tsams oc #sams oc #tw suicide mention

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3-2-whump · 1 month

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About the Author, or Adoption Trauma and Whump

Hi dear readers, this is 32W. Author, casual artist, and transnational adoptee, and as we reach the 28th anniversary of my adoption, I’m here to talk about adoption trauma and how it relates to whump.

TW/CW: adoption trauma, geopolitics, religious trauma (briefly mentioned/implied), gaslighting (briefly mentioned), objectification (briefly mentioned, sexual acts against a minor (briefly mentioned), metaphorical light gore

NOTE: The experiences of 32W with adoption are their experiences alone and cannot nor should be representative of every adoptees’ experiences. I love the people I call my parents, and I will always see them as such, but that does not change the basic facts that I will lay out below. This author also does not claim to be a geopolitical expert, nor a communist party expert, nor a Chinese spy -my god, I can’t believe I think I need to write that! Reader Discretion is advised.

I have been writing whump stories since my high school days back in 2010, and I have been writing pretty much the same story on and off for the past fourteen years. The names have changed, the faces have sort of changed, and the contexts have varied widely depending on what genre I had a phase in at that time, but a few core elements stayed the same:

Loss of culture

Loss of family

Loss of country

Loss of mother tongue

Forcibly living with someone who, though they could be worse, is still being forced to live with someone

Forced assimilation

Objectification

Losing trust in someone you trusted, respected, and loved

And while I have been writing whump with these themes for the past fourteen years, it only just occurred to me a couple months ago that all of those elements are also present in my personal experience with adoption. Basically, I process my adoption trauma through whump.

My parents wanted a baby. They wanted a baby after they had finally gotten my brothers out from underfoot, those problematic and troubled young men who are now strangers to me. My parents wanted a baby, preferably from another country, because of a recent court case in which the birth mother won back custody of her blood child and broke the adoptive parents’ hearts, so they wanted a baby from a place far away, where the chances of that happening were basically zero.

My parents wanted a baby.

And they got one.

From 1980 to 2016, the Chinese Communist Party implemented the One Child Policy in order to curb their country’s ever-climbing population. Consequentially, for many rural, agricultural, and often traditionalist families, this meant prioritizing sons over daughters, and thus hundreds of thousands of children –mostly girls- were scattered like stars, eventually landing in the arms of the richer, affluent Western countries. Though our circumstances of “abandonment” varied, we were all dispersed across the globe, unwilling, unaware, and now with different names and with parents that looked nothing like us.

Some of us ended up in good homes. I know I certainly did. My parents adored me, and I loved (still love?) them. They were a little weird sometimes, borderline objectifying me since I was a toddler and using religion to gaslight me into believing everything about our family situation was fine, but they also taught me about my culture, made me go to Chinese language school as a kid, and overall did their best. I’d like to think every kid, adopted or not, can say that about their parents. They did their best.

That said, this does not change the fact that they essentially bought me. This does not change the fact that I was forcibly separated from my home, my family, my culture. This does not change the fact that I have no official records and all but cease to exist until they got me. This does not change the fact that my birthday is a guess. This does not change the fact that they severed my tongue and stitched it back on, training it to speak their words, so that even after six years of Chinese school, I still cannot carry a conversation in what should be my natal tongue. That does not change the fact that I deliberately tried to lighten my skin with heavy makeup during the more cringe years of high school. That does not change the fact that my grandpa tried to molest me when I was eleven, and to this day, I am absolutely sure he never would’ve tried that shit with his blood grandchildren.

Their love and good intentions do change any of it.

So, I write whump to cope!

Please don’t feel sorry for me. I am not writing this for random internet strangers’ pity, I am just explaining rather graphically why I write the kind of whump that I write. Writing whump is cheaper than therapy. Exploring dark themes through fiction is a safe avenue for me to discover truths about myself that I did not even know before. And hopefully, my perspective may shed light on issues other adoptees may be facing that they did not have the words to express. And to those adoptees, I hear you, your feelings are valid, and my inbox is open if you want to talk. So, with that, I will conclude this essay, and promise you more good 32Whump content! Stay safe, yall!

#whump community #whump author #about the author #adoption trauma #whump #tw sa mention #tw minor #tw light gore #even metaphorically speaking #gaslighting #tw religious trauma #tw objectification #writing is cheaper than therapy #and once again i do not speak for the experiences of every adoptee #please keep that in mind as yo read this

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sp0o0kylights · 5 months

Text

Part Seven/ Part Eight (YOU ARE HERE)/ Part Nine

Ao3

Monsters aren't real.

The thing that's flying towards him is--a hallucination. A figment of Gareth's imagination.

The same way the feeling of time slowing to a crawl is just a trick of the light playing with his anxiety.

He'd be fine.

(It won't hurt.)

Gareth's limbs froze, locking him in place even as the manticore bore down on him.

Thankfully, Steve did not have that problem.

Gareth's shirt was snatched from the back, choking him as Steve yanked him out of the way.

It was just in time--the Manticore blew past seconds later, too-large body so close Gareth could feel the air move past him.

The stench was unimaginable.

A fuckload of noise exploded in Gareth's ears as time kicked back in. He fell hard, behind Steve as the older teen swung his nail bat with his left hand.

Huh. Gareth thought distantly as wood, nail and flesh connected. Steve's ambidextrous.

He never would have guessed.

Doesn't think anyone would.

(Should Gareth survive this, he will immediately tease Steve about it. Right after profusely thanking him for saving his life and having a meltdown about honest to God monsters existing in Hawkins.)

The fucker barked a noise, and the only comparable thing Gareth could relate it to was a seal--if a seal had played with some of the sound effect pedals the music store.

Maybe got run over by a car right after for good measure.

In one breath, the monsters' weird, elongated hand-paws raked lines through the floor.

In the next, a wing smashed high over Eddie's head. The finger-like claws at the crux of it pierced through Stewart's still-stuck door, balancing itself as it turned.

This brought the manticore's gore-filled hole of a mouth so close to Eddie's head Gareth thought it forfeit, and it was only Steve's interference that kept Eddie the Banished from being Eddie the Buried.

"Come on!" Steve bellowed.

He smacked the bat into the floor, as much a challenge as it was a distraction.

Thick saliva dripped to the floor in clumps as the manticore's head, a bulbous thing composed of five petal-like slices of flesh and too many teeth rattled in response.

A car horn trumpeted again--and if it was a warning it was one coming far too late.

The Manticore dropped its chest to the ground as it took the bait. A dark, black tipped scorpion tail rose over the back of the beast, stinger longer than Gareth's arm and wider than a sword.

Faster than Gareth could track, almost faster than Steve could parry, the tail lashed forward, stinger out like a lance.

(But Steve, wonderful, amazing, athletic Steve, caught and parried it with his bat.

Then and there, Gareth swore to never mock a jock, ever again.)

The bat met armored exoskeleton with a sickening crack!, the force of the hit shaking Steve's arms. His right foot slid back, biceps flexing as the stinger pushed against him, straining hard against nail and wood.

Steve grunted, shoes squeaking as he was forced to give ground, the Manticore overpowering him by the sheer strength of its tail.

The entire encounter had barely lasted a few seconds but without interference?

Steve would be thrown aside--and impaled.

Before Gareth could think about how stupid it was, he was on his feet and rushing to help.

He grabbed the fire poker off the ground and thrust it forward, towards the manticore's not-a-face.

Screamed “Go back to hell you piece of shit!” So loud his voice cracked.

It worked.

The beast flinched, tail rocketing back as it rose back up on all four paws, hissing in outrage.

Steve staggered with how fast the tail had moved, but caught himself, bat wavering in the air, and--

There was no reprieve.

No moment to breathe, because as soon as the stinger's gone there's a grotesque, hand-like paw swiping at them both.

Gareth fell back, only to realize he wasn't the target.

Steve was.

The claws flash in the flickering overhead lights and there wasn’t any time.

He's as good as dead and Gareth can't do anything to save him--

But Eddie can.

Sometime during the last few seconds, the older teen had pulled his knife. Jammed it deep into the back of the manticore's front leg, and twisted after the blade had sunk down to the hilt.

This, and the resulting aborted attack, saved Steve's life.

The thing wailed as the struck leg crumpled, sending the fucker’s head on a collision course with the floor.

Stewart's door jumped in its frame as the wing-claws, dug in deep into the wood, caught the manticore. Two flesh-petals scraped the floor, but the move kept it from falling-- at the cost of putting its full weight on the door.

A door already bowed. Hinges pre-fucked with, thanks to Eddie’s early meddling.

It didn't hold.

Hinges screamed as the wood bent, before gravity asserted itself and shattered it. Massive wood splinters shoot out in an explosion of wood, more than one piece embedding itself into the manticore.

Eddie scrambled backwards half turned to protect his head, saved from two large chunks of wood only by the grace of his thick leather jacket.

Several things happened at once.

The car outside honked a third time.

The manticore lunged.

And Eddie tripped.

One petal of teeth tore into him--a graze that left his leg a bloody mess and ripped a scream from his mouth.

Gareth and Steve both shot instinctively: Steve to attack the side of the manticore's head, Gareth to slam the fire poker into a wing.

(One second turned into three.)

The manticore in turn, leapt backwards, head shaking with the hit of Steve's bat--and Gareth had exactly one half-second to realize all they had done up until this moment was piss it off before the wing he'd struck swept out.

It struck him in the gut and Steve in the chest, sending both of them flying.

Gareth's back met the floor a second time expelling all the air from his lungs, vision going dark at the edges as his head hit the floor.

(Three seconds turned to seven.)

This time he physically couldn't move, too stunned as Eddie screamed Steve's name.

Stewart, Gareth realized, was screaming too.

(Seven seconds became eighteen, until Gareth's chest could take in air again, the loud ringing in his ears easing somewhat.)

He kept blinking, thinking the weird streaks of orange light was his vision blurring, until his brain kicked in and informed him that no, those were flames he was seeing.

Gareth pushed himself up on his elbows to find that reinforcements had arrived.

Flames flew in an arc as another on-fire tennis ball struck the Manticores side. The ball bounced, flames trickling down to the floor as the monster beast shrieked.

A third ball had it slamming itself into the wall as Gareth whipped his head to the opposite end of the hallway.

Tiff and Dustin were spraying a can of something onto a number of tennis balls--the ones Gareth knew Tiff kept in her car for tennis.

Lucas loaded one into his slingshot, drawing the rubber bands back and holding so that Jeff’s lighter could turn it into a proper weapon.

He launched it once flames encompassed it fully, and Gareth watched as it flew true.

Landed to the right of the muscular, lion--like chest, flames catching every piece of skin that was touched.

A part of Gareth expected this to only distract the fucker, the same way the pieces of wood sticking out of it’s sides had barely slowed it down--but fire, apparently was its weakness.

The manticore reacted like it was being burned with acid more so than fire, dropping and rolling and ping-pinging between walls as more and more of its wing was overtaken.

Its screams turned into rapid, wracked yelps, until finally it threw itself so hard into a wall that it fell through it.

For a moment a dark hole remained open.

Gray pieces of ash lazily floated out, giving them all a glimpse into a terrifying, dark blue forest, red lightning slashing the sky above before the hole re-sealed itself.

(It closed the way a wound did. All sides creeping in at a speed far too fast for human skin, but was just slow enough to make the wall appear like a living membrane instead of wood and plaster.)

For a long moment, the only thing Gareth could hear was all his friends' harsh panting.

"Did you kill it?" Stewart asked, head peeking around the corner.

Eddie looked to Steve to answer.

Which he did.

"Rule number two, man.” Steve raked a hand through his hair, trying to comb out the sweat that had collected at his temples after he climbed to his feet. “If you can’t see the body, it’s not dead.”

Stewart crept cautiously into the hall, looking as shell shocked as Gareth felt. "Why the hell isn't that rule one?”

"I don't know, the kids made the rules. You can ask them.”

Gareth’s head pulsed unhappily, but Gareth had other concerns as he made his way to his feet.

“How bad is it?” He asked as he made his way over, Eddie still on the ground.

“I’m alright.” Eddie lied, as if they all couldn’t see the sticky patch of blood on his torn jeans.

"Stop talking, start walking!" Dustin yelled at them.

“Eddie’s injured, give us a minute!” Steve yelled back. “God. Go make yourself useful and get my medkit!”

“I’m fine, it’s fine! ” Eddie yelled out right after, voice waspish in his pain.

It convinced absolutely no one, and in fact, caused several people to come down the hallway towards him.

Lucky for him, Steve made it there first.

Dropping to his knees in front of Eddie, he gently moved a ringed hand away from the wound, giving it a critical once over as Gareth and Stewart hovered.

“It’s not bad.” Eddie tried to argue, wincing as he poked around his leg, Steve continually having to bat his hands away. “If we can wrap it I’ll be able to walk out of here.”

“I won’t know until I see more of it.” Tiff said, Jeff and Grant right on her heels to circle Eddie and Steve. “But he might be right for once--there’s not much blood. You’re gonna lose the pants though.”

“Noooo.” Eddie said, in a poor mimic of one of his D&D voices.

“Not to rush you, but we need to get out of here.” Jeff cast an anxious look over at the wall, and Gareth nodded his agreement.

This wasn’t a safe place right now.

(Had likely never been a safe place, if it was birthing out monsters like the manticore.)

Steve looked up at Eddie, holding his gaze.

“Think you can hobble over to the cars if two of us help?”

He got a sharp nod back.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now hop to it.” Tiff said with a clap. Her voice was dry, tone almost sarcastic, but Gareth heard the unease in it

Not that anyone needed any convincing to get the hell out of dodge.

("I'm going to take up running." Eddie told him later, hands shaking from pain as Gareth drove Van Helsing after FrankenCar, Grant's Ford Escort

They had managed to wrap Eddie’s leg up in a quick bandage with the medkit. Gareth hadn’t truly been able to bring himself to look at the wound, but he’d caught a glimpse.

The fang marks stood out on Eddie’s pale skin, and ran in so many rows it looked like he’d shoved half his leg into a shark's mouth.

Tiffany insisted it was more horrific looking than it was actually horrific, and given Eddie had made at least three “am I gonna lose the leg, Doc?” jokes, Gareth believed her.

Still--it was weird, to drive Eddie’s van.

Weirder still to see Steve's Beemer (unnamed on grounds that Hellfire couldn't decide between the Batmobile and the BeemHolder) lead their little procession--though it had been a fight to get Steve to drive the car instead of ride along with Eddie.

"We both know you’re not seriously considering going running.” Gareth told him, voice shaking. “Which is unfortunate, because I'm going to make you anyway."

His fingers tightened hard on the steering wheel.

“I’m going to make everyone go running.”

It was a testament to how scared both of them were that they ended the conversation there.

No joke, no walking back what they'd said.

Running apparently, was back to being a core survival skill and Gareth very much enjoyed staying alive.)

xXx

Gareth hadn’t asked why the Byers house was the chosen place to regroup.

Had kind of assumed that it had been picked because Will’s mother wasn’t home.

Definitely was not expecting an adult to come flying out of the door with the air of a frazzled border collie, herding kids inside before freezing when she caught sight of Eddie.

Or rather: Eddie being carefully pulled out of Van Helsing by Steve and Jeff, cursing and whining the whole way.

“You big baby, you’re not that hurt.” Jeff huffed as Eddie’s squirming almost forced him to let go, resulting in Eddie gripping at Steve’s sweater like a liferaft.

“You can talk when you’re the one that got bit by a monster, Jeffrey.” Eddie snapped back, hopping on his good leg. “I almost died!”

“Steve said it just barely grazed you--”

“Steve was busy trying to keep it off of me to really notice what was happening! Unlike you. What were you doing, Jeff? Honking the fucking car horn?”

“I wasn’t the one honking--”

They continued to bicker as Miss Byers marched forward.

Gareth expected her to yell--and given the way Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sight of her, possibly even deny them entrance.

Shoo them away or send them home.

It wouldn’t be the first time a member of Hellfire had been beaten, only for the adults around them to act like they were the ones causing trouble.

Instead, she earned Gareth’s respect immediately by moving alongside Steve and asking; “Is anyone else injured?”

Barely waited for the shake of Steve’s head before spinning on her heel and heading back inside, yelling all the way.

“Will, fetch me towels. Jonathan--get the medkit! ”

“No worries, Miss Byers. Stevie here already has one.” Eddie said, before his attempts to charm her fell utterly flat when he accidentally jostled his leg and hissed out a curse.

“Steve’s not as good as mine, hun.” Her eyes swept over his leg, calculating. “Is that bite what I think it is?”

“Related.” Steve answered, starting the lengthy process of getting Eddie inside.

“Shit.” She sighed, and for the first time that night Gareth realized she too, wore the same haunted look Steve did.

Which meant she'd believe them.

A part of him, the part who was still a teenager, a kid in his own right, relaxed that an adult knew.

As with most of Hellfire, Gareth didn’t typically trust adults, but his relationship with his own parents was slightly better than most of the others. It led him to such beliefs like that maybe, just maybe, this would be the end of the monsters.

That he’d never face a thing like that outside of D&D, ever again. That whatever events haunted Steve would be handled by the proper authorities.

(That they’d be okay. Everyone would be okay.)

Sirens sounded in the distance, and even as Gareth walked inside the house he knew it wasn’t true.

Whatever all this was?

It wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Munson?” A rumpled Jonathan Byers said, blinking like an owl hit with sunlight as the Steve-Eddie-Jeff procession went past.

He got a half-assed roguish grin and a waggle of fingers while Steve rolled his eyes over Eddie’s head.

“What happened!?” Jonathan asked, as Joyce bustled past him, relieving Jonathan of the medkit.

“It’s a long story, but we have a code red at the lab.”

Gareth knew he was frazzled, purely by the fact his hands once again went to mess with his hair, right after helping Eddie down into a chair.

“Which they knew apparently.”

‘They’ was accompanied by Steve jerking his thumb towards the living room--where the kids were talking to themselves in a huddle.

Outside, the sirens grew louder.

Jonathan looked to the living room and back, before heaving a sigh so world weary it was almost impressive. “Of course they did.”

“Demodog?” Miss Byers asked as she laid out various medical supplies on her kitchen table, pausing every so often to stare at Eddie’s leg.

“It was a manticore!” One of the kids yelled.

Gareth wasn't surprised to learn some of the brats were listening in.

There was a pause, as Miss Byers stared quizzically at Steve.

“It's like a demodog but much larger?” He told her, making an awkward shape with his hands that explained absolutely nothing. “With wings? Oh--and a scorpion tail.”

“It was terrifying.” Stewart added in a mutter, all of Hellfire awkwardly camped themselves around Eddie.

Which wasn’t good, given the frown on Miss Byers face as she carefully cut away even more of his jeans and their shitty attempt at band-aiding his wound.

It was the face of someone who was about to cause pain in an attempt to heal, and knew it.

For all that he was their front-man and self-proclaimed shepherd of Hellfire, Eddie's pain tolerance was absolute shit.

The guy could take a punch well enough, and the rings on his hands meant business when he hit back--but when adrenaline wasn't flowing?

Eddie broke down faster than his van did.

This whole thing was a bit of a sore spot. Something Eddie had admitted once under extreme duress had come from his father repeatedly telling him a man needed to be tough, and a Munson man even tougher.

(The duress in question was during one particularly animated D&D fight.

Eddie had gotten too excited and slapped an open palm down on top of a pointy figure, embedded it well into his skin.

The incident had derailed the campaign entirely and caused Hellfire as a whole to learn that their fearless leader really hated people watching him cry.)

Needless to say, a room full of children, his friends, his crush, and one of said kids' mothers wasn't exactly an ideal set up for Eddie to lose it.

So Gareth set himself up as a sort of barrier, blocking Eddie's view from the living room (and hopefully, vice versa, before making eyes at his friends to do the same.

Thankfully Jeff at least, caught on.

Communication was given through pointed looks and nudging elbows, but quickly enough, Hellfire managed to make a decently solid barrier between the kids (and Jonathan, who was doing an amazing job of chewing out said children) leaving Steve and Gareth as the sole onlookers.

“Alright, someone start talking.” Miss Byers loudly commanded, as she finally unearthed Eddie’s wounds.

To Eddie, she offered a well-used bottle of Tylenol, muttering quiet apologies before she began cleaning his very gross looking wound.

“Hey--” Gareth himself muttered, half praying he’d magically think of an excuse for Steve to fuck off, only to realize Hellfire’s jock had actually moved into the kitchen.

A line of mismatched mugs and cups was taking form on the counter, and it took a minute of carefully looking anywhere but at Eddie as Miss Byers worked to figure out Steve was making hot chocolate.

Figured that was probably smart, given Grant looked so tense Gareth expected his head to explode at any second.

(The loud arguing from the kids as they tried to explain didn't help any.)

A thought that Jonathan also seemed to have, given he put on a voice that sounded far to fatherly for Gareth's comfort and bellowed;

“Alright, enough!”

--which at least got him the silence he wanted.

“One at a time!” Jonathan parented from the living room. “Will, you start. Dustin you’re up next, then Mike, then El.”

He put his hands on his hips and Gareth nearly laughed aloud, because apparently the children weren't the only ones picking up Steve's mannerisms.

“Start from when you decided to sneak out without telling anybody but Steve.”

“If it makes you feel better we didn't actually tell Steve.” Dustin chirped.

Jonathan stared at him, and judging from his face alone Gareth expected utter hell to erupt from his mouth.

Instead they got a sort of quiet: “That does actually make me feel a bit better, thanks.”

Steve scoffed from the kitchen in response, which thankfully covered Eddie’s pained hiss from where Miss Byers was patting hydrogen peroxide into his bite mark.

Unfortunately for Jonathan, the kids came up with their own order and as always, let Dustin and Mike be their talking pieces.

“Like we told everyone else, it started because Will and El sensed something--” One began, right as red and blue lights splashed across the walls.

The source of the siren--a police truck that, judging bu the loud crunch of tires sliding on gravel and a shriek of breaks--had arrived.

Several of the children (plus Grant) cursed.

“Who called Hopper?!”

“He’s El’s dad idiot, of course someone called him.”

“Come on Max didn’t we talk about calling people names--”

Eddie tensed, as did the majority of the room, as loud, pounding footsteps tore up the front porch.

“I called him.” Miss Byers said as she rose from her crouch, apparently done re-bandaging Eddie.

She weaved her way through the room and was nearly taken out by her own front door when it was flung open to reveal the man himself, who looked like he’d spent the night fist-fighting his way through a bar, in the dark.

“El?!” He bellowed, eyes frantically scanning the room before landing on her.

The relief was so immediate it seemed to make him slump for a second.

Or rather, long enough for him to draw in enough air to get out a proper yell. “Someone better start explaining, right now. Starting with you Michael Wheeler!”

It was only then, as the man himself stepped into the light, that Gareth finally figured out why he looked sort of--off.

Unreal even, like a figure stepping out of a dream and into reality.

Jim Hopper, Chief of Hawkins Police Department, was wearing Scooby Doo pajamas.

The top was a faded orange color, boasting an image of a footstep in the center of a magnifying glass.

The bottoms were green, the head of the famed Great Dane patterned all over.

Combined?

It was Gareth's last straw.

‘You cannot be having a panic attack over the Chief’s pajamas.’ A far away part of Gareth thought hysterically, as his vision kaleidoscoped.

God, was he so fucking lame.

#adopt a jock #pre steddie #steddie #gareth emerson #steven harrington #eddie munson #the hellfire club #the party #and #a manticore #0o0 fanfics #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #hellfire adopts steve #RIP to hellfire you had a good run not knowing about any of this lol #tw small injury mention #tw panic attack mention there at the end #cause Gareth just kinda paused his while fighting for his life lol

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sotogalmo · 4 months

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8:05

Just thinking of CC and how FNAF4 is.

It's all psychological. Dreams, nightmares, Fredbear Plush talking.

Everything, almost everything about CC and FNAF4 is just how psychological kinda is with a child who has been psychological/emotionally abused by his brother, neglected by family, and hated/teased by everyone.

His, basically, only friend was his plushy: Fredbear. The one his father gave to him. His Father is his only friend.

But not at the same time. Father has caused his same damage as well. It's the same as Michael's, but not too much. So CC holds Father to a much better light then he does with Michael. Because at the very least Father apologizes to him, and gives him gifts. He did give him Fredbear, his most prized plushy.

God, if he were to ever be alive after the Bite of '83, he would most definitely have PTSD. No doubt about it. Even if the Bite of '83 never happened too. He would most definitely have to be in therapy for soso long. Until he gets at the very least normal

And honestly just to make it worse honestly. It's the 90s-80s. No one would ever want to see a grown man cry. It just doesn't suit them. 90s-80s and even now, is still very used to the fact that men don't cry. And when they suddenly do, they are treated like women in some cases.

I just know that CC was compared to a girl so much, that he started to believe he was a girl and all. And if he were to say that, people would call him weird. Worse then crybaby, or weird.

God, CC is not a mentally stable child. Not at all. I don't think it's so far-fetched to even say he's suicidal. Because if I were to ever be in his place, best believe that I definitely would be suicidal. He was psychological/emotionally abused by his brother, neglected by family, and hated/teased by everyone. Why wouldn't anyone be suicidal, from that? Hell, would anyone even be stable? I sure as well don't think anyone would be stable

CC is such a tragic character, and I think we need to explore that so much more

#time diary(?)#audrey/kellie's time diary #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #tw abuse mention #tw abuse #i am not demonizing micheal. afton family is a fucked up one. every implication can be true. almost every theory can be true #every hint to what happens to the afton family can be true #and to me. fnaf is silly but it works so well with tormenting people. its more psychological horror then anything. but also fridge horror #but yes. fnaf is a psychological horror story to me #and honestly. i kinda like how some of the characters are written. in some ways. they are all so human. so human its disgusting #fnaf 4 #crying child fnaf #fnaf crying child #crying child afton #evan afton #chris afton #i have adopted some stuff from lets-ignore-that's FNAF AU. i just like how their au is .... its soso cool #and then just thought so much how 90s-80s were with standards. and boom. you have some suicidal child who is #scared to die yes. but wants to die and it would make the world a better place. yet he wants to live his life. etc etc yk??#tw suicidality #cc my son ..... be deserves soso much #resson why I'm talking bout him now is cuz im making a fic for him. and god he makes me crazy

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uncanny-tranny · 11 months

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Regardless of your thoughts on trans people's right to reproduction, it is a human rights violation to force sterilize trans people. It is vital that we maintain trans people's inalienable right to their bodies in every conceivable way.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #mtf #nonbinary #transphobia #transphobia tw #force sterilization tw #saw yet another meltdown of people complaining that trans people should be force sterilized if they were to be regarded as their gender #though not to MENTION how many countries still force sterilize trans people before that trans person can transition or complete transition #like this is very much regarded as an act of genocide because of the historical precedent #and advocating for aspects of genocide for trans people is..... what's the word.... BAD. immoral even. heinous actually!#this isn't about 'oh i think every trans person should reproduce' but that we shouldn't be FORCED not to #so don't twist my words about this please because it takes away from the conversation. hell i don't even WANT to reproduce i want to adopt #(and that's even if i GET to be a father! i have plenty of time but i am still uncertain. beside the point though)

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baileys-writing-desk · 5 months

Text

The Morning Sun (“I’m here, and so is Four”)

After using all his healing magic, Rulie wakes up to see someone very familiar.

AO3

(check tags before reading)

A soft, distant melody drifts into Hyrule’s ears, slowly bringing him to awareness. His body feels blissfully warm, like something soft is covering him…and a slight breeze ruffles his hair. That deep voice…the beautiful song…why is that so familiar?

He takes in a breath and groans, far too weak to move, or to open his eyes.

“Look…ru…’t worked…”

Another voice, a much smaller one this time. The singing voice slowly comes to a stop. Wait—no… He liked the singing. It was so soothing…

“…rule.” The deeper voice returns. “Hyrule…you with us?”

…Who is that?

The traveler shifts under the soft material, a blanket perhaps, but this doesn’t feel like his bedroll. Far from it, in fact…the surface he’s lying on is smooth but wrinkly, almost a bit…scaly? What the hell…?

“Hey, can you hear me?”

…Oh, right. He is supposed to respond to that…but when he opens his mouth in an attempt to speak, only a croak comes out. His heavy eyelids still won’t open, and he can just barely move one hand up from under the blanket. But it is seemingly enough for the voice to know he is listening.

“Shh…it’s okay, boy. No need to force it, just take it easy. You were asleep for…quite a while.”

…How long?, he wants to ask, and who the hell are you? Letting his hand fall limply back down, he lets out another long groan. Soft murmurs can be heard from farther away…perhaps his brothers are here. And this voice…he should know who it belongs to…The curiosity overtakes him and at last, he weakly peels his heavy eyelids open.

Squinting at the harsh sunlight, he gazes up blearily to see a massive blur of colors: yellow, brown, white…a glowing blue? Something is glowing…or rather, more than one thing is glowing. Small blobs of yellow fade in and out, like little sparks of light.

Wait a second…is that…

“Ah, there you are!” The deep voice is slightly louder this time, chuckling slightly. “Good morning, Rulie.”

The mix of bright lights hurts the traveler’s eyes, and so he gently lets them slip back closed.

…Lanayru?

“Oh, the light bothering you? My apologies, boy.”

Hyrule slowly clears his throat, attempting to speak again. “Mmmm…” His voice comes out dry and raspy. “…’s okay.”

It all begins to click now. The wrinkly texture of the surface beneath him…it is that of Lanayru’s hands.

“Wh-why are you…” he continues, voice cracking before he can finish. Why are you holding me…

“Hm?” Lanayru doesn’t seem to follow. “…Why am I here? Ah, right. You can’t possibly remember that.”

Hyrule slowly puts a hand to his forehead, rubbing it to ease the slight aching. That was not the question he wanted… After a second of silence a smaller voice pipes in.

“Hey Rulie, it’s me, Sky. Don’t worry, you’re safe now. We went through a portal to my era while you were out, that’s why Lanayru’s here. And Four is doing much better, so you can relax, ok?”

Four?

“Wh…what happened to Four?” he mumbles. Lanayru says nothing.

“You don’t remember?”

Hyrule’s mind draws a blank. “…No.”

A long, drawn-out sigh, then Sky’s voice again. “It’s okay, Rulie, you’re still out of it. Can you look at me?”

He moans quietly. Just thinking about that scorching sun makes the aching in his head return. But perhaps he could try again…

Four…Four…

Why can’t I remember??

Slowly he turns his head to the left, to the sound of Sky’s voice, and blinks his eyes open, relieved to find he is no longer looking straight into the sun. Large brown shapes focus in front of him, with lighter, pointed tips. Lanayru’s fingers. He is lying in both of the dragon’s hands, cupped together to give him more room, like how anyone his size would hold a baby bunny.

And beyond that…Through the spaces between the fingers he can make out the blurry figure of Sky through the still-harsh sunlight. The ground isn’t too far beneath them…Lanayru must be sitting down, he figures. Bleary hazel eyes finally meet concerned blue ones, and Sky seems to be grinning, most likely with relief.

“Wh…what happened, Sky?” Hyrule croaks out. “…Where’s Four…?”

“I told you, Four’s fine. Because of you, Rulie, you used everything you had to heal him, I mean-“ Sky takes in a shaky breath. “…You could have died, Hyrule. I almost thought we were gonna lose you.”

Hyrule’s heart drops. “Oh…”

The pieces begin to emerge in his mind now, nearly all at once. The battle in Time’s Hyrule. The monster’s weapon bringing Four down. Four lying in the grass, bloody sword sticking out of him…

…oh.

No. No no no…

The traveler’s eyes widen and he lets out a strained gasp.

“Four, stay with me! Oh fuck, shit, I can’t stop the bleeding- HYRULE! Please-“

The magic is already pulsing off Hyrule’s hands as he thrusts them on the smithy’s chest. He doesn’t know how much he has left…but Four’s life is now in his hands. He can’t lose his brother, his friend…he can’t-

“Rulie? You still there?”

Lanayru’s voice brings him back. He shudders.

“I…I think I remember now…”

“Yes, very good,” the dragon replies. “What you did was quite heroic, boy. Nearly sacrificing yourself to save another’s life…Among the most courageous things a mortal can do, I believe.”

“Lanayru, I-“ He coughs from drawing in a sharp breath of air. “I had no choice.”

“I know, boy. I understand.” The Thunder Dragon’s low voice is soft and gentle. “Link—or, uh—Sky…please don’t be upset, he’s alright now, ok?”

Sky nods his head, eyebrows raised and gaze pointed down, toward the grass and the swirling white clouds of Lanayru’s tail.

“I grabbed you off Four,” the Skyloftian explains. “His wounds were no longer fatal, and I didn’t want you using all your magic, but you passed out in my arms. Do you remember that, Rulie?”

The traveler grunts, closing his eyes briefly…his vision has been clearing, but the sun is still a bit too bright for the state he’s in.

It comes to him like a dream.

“Rulie. I think he’s okay now—“

“Rulie, stop! HYRULE STOP. You’ve done enough-“

He can’t stop. Not until every inch of magic has been drained from his frail body. His eyelids begin to grow heavy…his vision swims, he’s barely conscious.

“RULIE!!” Someone is pulling him away from Four, but it’s too late, the last bit of magic fizzles out and the world is now a spinning blur of colors. His eyes roll back in his head and he falls limp in their grasp.

Hyrule slowly opens his eyes, gazing at Sky through the dragon’s claws. “…I do…” He swallows hard. “…How long was I gone?”

“Almost two days. We spent the night in Time’s era, but our location just wasn’t safe for you or Four. And bless Hylia, we woke up the next morning to a portal, was it a gift from the goddesses or a sweet coincidence I don’t know…but it sent us here. We weren’t sure how safe it would be with two of you unconscious, but we had to do it.” Sky sighs. “Thank Hylia we made the right call.”

“I saw the portal open,” Lanayru adds. “Right in front of me! I was flyin’ through the air, of course…I knew you were probably in the middle of something so I waited, until my Link came to me.”

“Yeah, Lanayru was a big help.” Sky grins at Hyrule, and then up at the dragon. “He took you, Rulie, almost right away. You two spent the day and night together, and the rest of us tended to Four.”

“Wait…you were with me the whole time?” Hyrule groans and puts his elbows beneath him, attempting to sit up. “…Lanayru, did you—“

“Woah-ho, easy now,” the dragon interrupts, gently pressing his thumb to the traveler’s back as the latter finally reaches a sitting position. “Don’t push yourself too hard, you’re still very weak.”

A red checkered blanket is draped over Lanayru’s other hand, where Hyrule’s legs and feet are placed. Carefully he pulls the blanket back, turning himself to face the open clearing where Sky stands.

“Did you…stay up all night?” he mutters, finishing his thought.

“Oh, heavens no.” Lanayru’s hearty laugh rings from above, and Hyrule guesses the dragon is smiling. “Old dragons need their sleep too. Don’t worry, I kept you safe in my robe. Nobody hurts you on my watch, boy.”

“That’s…really kind of you.” Hyrule smiles. “Thank you.”

“Ah, no problem, Rulie. Now you were asking where Four is?”

Before the traveler can respond, someone else steps into the clearing, rushing up to meet Sky. The pink hair and red tunic makes him unmistakably Legend.

“Hey Sky, I just wanted to see how he’s—“ The veteran gasps as his eyes meet Hyrule’s. “Oh Rulie, you’re awake! Three-damn it, you fucking idiot!”

Legend’s tone comes out as much more of relief than anger, but surely he’s at least a little angry at Hyrule.

“Language, boy,” Lanayru scolds. But Legend doesn’t seem to care.

“Why did you do that?! When I saw you I—I almost thought you fucking died!”

Hyrule gulps, breaking eye contact with his predecessor to gaze at Lanayru’s fingers.

“But I didn’t,” he says eventually. “I’m here, and so is Four. I did what was needed…”

“Well…maybe next time, don’t do that, okay? Rulie, you scared the living shit out of us! I was so fucking worried—“ Legend pauses, gazing at both the traveler and the Thunder Dragon. “…Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

Hyrule groans at his predecessor’s question. “Could be better, Ledge. I’m still really tired…”

“Hmph, well you look like shit.” Legend smiles teasingly. “No offense.”

Lanayru chuckles again, making the veteran raise his eyebrow in confusion.

“Allll right, Link. Perhaps that’s enough of the sailor’s mouth for now, hm?” Although Hyrule cannot see Lanayru’s face, he figures the dragon is doing his ‘disappointed dad’ stare. “Now tell me, any updates on Four?”

Yes, please tell me where the hell he is… Hyrule thinks to himself, gently rubbing his temples.

“I just got back from the lake, Mr. Thunder Dragon. He’s been in and out recently, but he woke up for a bit to talk to me. I think the water is really helping…we had Her Excellence replenish his bath this morning.”

Hyrule’s brow furrows. “…Her Excellence?”

“Ah, what is that dragon’s name? That blue one with all the water.”

Sky grimaces a bit, seemingly waiting for Hyrule’s reaction.

Oh.

“…Faron?” he squeaks out.

“Yes, Faron! That’s right!” Legend laughs. “Ah, she’s been so kind to me…I never asked for her name. Pity.”

“But Sky, you said…you didn’t want us going to see her.”

“I know, Rulie, this was an exception,” says the Skyloftian. “Faron has sacred water, and when she sustained critical injuries a while back…that water helped her recover. I’m not sure what effect it has on a Hylian, but I think it’s at least soothing Four’s mind. He took a nasty blow to the head too, you know. And you can’t fully heal concussions, right?”

Hyrule slowly shakes his head. “No…I wish I could.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. The water will hopefully do the rest. Besides…I never imagined something like this. Two heroes and two dragons, it’s wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Legend adds. “Naydra, thanks for taking care of my Rulie. You’re amazing.”

…Naydra?

The Thunder Dragon seems confused. “No problem…wait, what did you call me?”

“Legend!!” Sky bursts into laughter, nearly throwing his head back. “You got mine and Wild’s dragons mixed up again, didn’t you?”

“…Fuck. I’m sorry, um…”

“Lanayru.”

“Ah, Lanayru! Rats.” Legend snaps his fingers. “I mean…I was pretty close.”

“Don’t worry, it happens. And you’re very much welcome. When you fellas are here I’ll guard Rulie with my life! Right, Rulie?”

Hyrule nods, too lazy to turn his head back and look at the dragon’s face. He must be wondering who this Naydra is… Ever since meeting Lanayru, Hyrule hasn’t been too fond of Wild’s dragons. Not that he’d ever tell Wild, but the sight of them last time had him really missing Lanayru. So much so that it hurt to look.

“Well, you’re looking a bit better already,” Sky exclaims, smiling. “Do you think you’ll be able to stand? Because soooomebody here wants a hug.”

The Skyloftian gestures to Legend, who pouts in an attempt to hide it, but Hyrule can tell through the veteran’s puppy-dog eyes. After two days without Hyrule, he surely wants to hold his successor tight and never let go.

The traveler sighs. “…I think so.”

“Alright, I’m gonna let you down now, ok?” Lanayru leans forward, placing his hands on the grass, and slowly Hyrule scoots off, moaning slightly in the process. A wave of light-headedness washes through him after his feet touch the ground, and he grabs on to the dragon’s finger to steady himself.

“Woah there- be careful, Rulie.” Sky warns, rushing over to him. “I got you.”

Hyrule wraps his arm around Sky’s shoulders, and Lanayru sets the blanket down with his now empty hands. As the two heroes approach Legend, the Thunder Dragon rises back up to sitting with a deep exhale. His arms must be a bit tired…

“Rulie. Don’t ever do that again,” Legend scolds, but the pure relief is clear in his expression.

The weak traveler lets go of Sky and buries himself into his predecessor’s embrace, allowing Legend to wrap sturdy arms around his frail body and gently stroke his messy hair.

“I can’t guarantee it,” Hyrule mutters, voice slightly muffled.

“Yeah…I know. But maybe go for, like 80 percent odds?”

He chuckles at Legend’s joke. A little too promising… “Okay. I’ll try.”

Finally the veteran seems content enough to let go of the traveler, and as Hyrule steps away, he grins. The weakness in his legs has lessened a little, but he still longs to be back in Lanayru’s hands again. It was much more comfortable.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go back to camp to let them know you’re awake,” Sky explains. “So you might have more visitors. Just stay here…don’t leave Lanayru’s sight.”

“I won’t, I promise.” He knows he wouldn’t have the strength to leave, even if he wanted to.

“Good. The others will be so relieved to see you.”

The Skyloftian heads off into the dense trees of the forest, where Hyrule assumes the rest of the group has set up camp. They must be so worried about me… A pang of guilt aches in his chest at what he must have put them through. At least now they’ll know he’s okay…

He slowly turns around, relying slightly on Legend’s shoulder to stay upright, and at last he sees the Thunder Dragon’s full body. Lanayru is beaming, fluffy beard a swirly mess and eyes containing their usual sparkle. His hands are rested on his crossed back claws and his tail drapes around him, white clouds shining in the sunlight.

“Well…it’s good to have you back, boy!” he exclaims. “Now come here. I think you need some more rest.”

Hyrule smiles softly in agreement. With Legend’s help, the traveler takes baby steps back toward Lanayru’s waiting arms.

#bailey writes #lu hyrule #lanayru the thunder dragon #lu sky #lu four #(mentioned)#also faron is mentioned #lanayrulie #tw a little blood mention (only in Rulie’s memory bits)#tw swearing #almost all of that is Legend O-O #he’s got a potty mouth #baby bnuuy cuddles #local dragon grandpa snatches adopted child #Lanayru calls Legend ‘Link’ because he can’t remember his title lol

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