#barney fucked up hours
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the barney meta or whatever i hate this post now cuz organizing these images is impossible under cut off cuz theres like 20 or of these, me n nat were Conversing
#ponderingradioactivedecay#anyways fuck whatever#barney fucked up hours#r there refs to the fic me n nat are going to write in ti? absolutely#u gotta figure it out#or whateer im tired rn#and finally got aroudn to posting this after ages cuz i need to be able to ref this for an ask i got after putting it off cuz organizing it#is such a bitch#fuck man#hope these are in order#if theyre not im gonna cry and ur gonna have to suffer to figure out theorder#have fun <3
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MAY 16, 200-
#Cool fun facts about this one I drew it back in fucking March.#then I realized i got the date wrong and sat on it for 2 months and then decided to go back and touch it up for another. 2 HOURS .#This is the LONGEST I’ve ever spent on art. 13 and a half hours. Christ alive I’m never drawing again#Anyway . check this shit out.#ID in alt text#scenario that never happened but I like to think about. What if they all ganged up#it was supposed to be a head crab zombie in the hallway but I don’t want to touch this anymore so it’s Gman. ☝️ IDC#half life#half life 1#gordon freeman#barney calhoun#adrian shephard#half life blue shift#half life opposing force#hlop4#my art#guns#blood#bright colors#injury#ask to tag#hl#blue shift#opposing force#spore launcher#HAPPY RESCAS DAY . WOOOOOO#my fave detail on this that idk if anyone will notice. that’s not Barney’s helmet. it’s got a bullet hole in the side :)
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Post Prom - “The Morning After”
Summary: A deleted scene from the epilogue of Dancing with Myself. This is unpolished and unedited. I just wanted to share it because I love Wayne. 🥺
Warnings: language
Word count: 1,573
Morning arrived a lot faster than you expected, the events of last night fading away like a pleasant dream. You woke up with a slight headache and smelled bacon sizzling on the stove.
Oh no, you thought, and felt your stomach churn with dread. You sat up on your elbow, expecting to find yourself trapped inside the painted walls of your own bedroom. Instead, you found yourself staring right into the piercing eyes of a frightening, fleshless monster, grinning at you with a mouth full of teeth. A quiet laugh escaped you and you smiled back. It wasn’t a dream. You were in Eddie’s house, in his room, in his bed, wearing his Megadeth shirt. You looked down at it and blushed. Then you felt a warm weight next to you and your blush deepened.
Shyly, you peeked over your shoulder and saw Eddie lying on his side, snoring softly with his face half hidden behind his forearm. He was still wearing the chain on his wrist, but his rings were resting on the nightstand beside him, all but one. He must have forgotten to take that one off.
A look of wonder consumed your face as you stared at him, your cheeks still burning with excitement. Admittedly, you felt a little silly getting all flustered over something as simple as this. Hours ago, you had this guy’s tongue in your mouth, but this—this totally innocent moment—had you blushing like a schoolgirl flipping through her anatomy book.
Silly as it was, somehow waking up next to him felt more intimate than anything you did last night. Honestly, you weren’t sure you would ever get used to it.
Outside, the clatter of dishes brought you crashing back to reality. You were in Eddie’s house, in his room, in his bed, wearing his Megadeth shirt… and his uncle was cooking breakfast for himself in the kitchen!
You slapped your hand over your mouth, smothering a yelp of panic. What were you supposed to do? How were you supposed to face him like this? Good morning, sir, I’m the floozy that went home with your nephew last night. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I drank your beer and made a mess of your kitchen. Also, I might’ve ruined your jacket.
Oh shit. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t an option.
So now the only way out of this mess was through that porch door. It was well within reach, less than ten feet away. If you were really stealthy and really lucky, you could sneak out the door without him noticing you.
Quiet as a thief, as Elaria Quint, your old D&D character (who ironically enough was terrible at sneaking—yeah, her stats were absolute shit), you crept out of bed and searched for your clothes. You found your prom dress draped on the back of Eddie’s desk chair, but your shoes were nowhere to be found. Where had you taken off your shoes? You had them on when you left The Hideout. You had contemplated taking them off when you entered the house, but then you saw that Eddie had kept his on, so you left yours on too because you didn’t want to seem weird. Then they stayed on for most of the night even though they made your feet hurt, until…
until things got a little heated and you two decided to move to the bedroom. Yeah, that’s when you had taken them off. You had tripped on your heels because you were a little tipsy from the beer (Wow, one can of beer made me tipsy. Damn, I’m such a lightweight), so you slipped them off and tossed them to the side, where they were now:
on top of the washing machine,
in the kitchen,
where Wayne Munson was currently making himself breakfast.
Fuck it, you thought. I’ll just go barefoot. Yeah, I’ll run out of here like Barney Rubble, I don’t give a shit. Yabba-dabba-no, fuck that, I’m not doing this right now. I’m not taking that walk of shame. No way!
You tip-toed to the door, took a deep breath, and poked your head out into the hallway. The coast was clear. The door was right there. A couple quick steps, a twist and a push, and you were out of there.
You inched forward, stuck your hand out and… paused.
What would Eddie think when he woke up and saw his bed empty? Would he think you left because you regretted staying? Would he think you were having second thoughts about him, about your relationship? Would he think you were being flighty and running away again?
He would. You knew he would. And it would absolutely break his heart.
Oh shit, you thought. You couldn’t do that to him. Well, okay… This is how much I love you, Eddie. I’m taking the hit for you, just like in D&D. And you better save me when you wake up because I am not facing your uncle alone.
You drew your hand back and—
“You don’t have to sneak around,” Wayne said from the kitchen. “I already know you’re there.”
You sucked in a startled breath and felt your back straighten in surprise.
“Oh,” you said. Well, great, I just had a moral debate for nothing.
You shuffled down the hallway timidly while combing out your bedhair with your fingers. Eddie’s shirt went a little past your hips and his boxers stopped at the middle of your thighs. In hindsight, you should have changed back into your prom dress before leaving his room, but at this point, the jig was already up, wasn’t it? You could’ve been wearing a nun’s habit and he still would’ve made the same assumption about you.
“Hi,” you said with a nervous tremble in your voice, “I’m Y/N…”
“Hello,” Wayne replied with a deep drawl. He was standing in front of the counter in his work clothes, his eyes dull and tired. As soon as they met yours, you blurted out, “Nothing happened!” and he just nodded his head and grunted, “Mhm,” completely unfazed.
“I noticed you’ve got a lot of mugs,” you said, gesturing toward them with your hand. “You must drink a lotta coffee.”
“Mhm,” Wayne said, and raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Bit of a smartass, aren’t you?”
“Only sometimes,” you said under your breath.
Wayne’s eyes narrowed as you stepped closer. “I know you.”
“I don’t think so,” you said. “Pretty sure I just have one of those faces.”
“No, I do. You were yelling outside my house—pretty loud, too.”
“Oh,” you said. “Yeah, that was me.”
“You woke me up.”
You cringed. “Yeah, sorry about that… Your nephew was being very stubborn.”
“He does that,” Wayne said. Then he dropped his head and scratched the back of his neck for a few seconds. “Well, are ya hungry? I’ve got some bacon left, and I can cook you up some eggs, if you’d like.”
Your face broke into a smile. “Sure.”
“Have a seat,” Wayne said as he went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. You sat down at the table and made yourself comfortable.
No words were exchanged as Eddie’s uncle fried up some eggs on the hot plate. You sat in your chair and nibbled on crispy slices of bacon. Wayne had his back to you the whole time, letting the pan do the talking for him. The kitchen was silent apart from the quiet sizzle and crackling of hot butter, but not awkwardly so. In fact, it felt rather pleasant… homey, almost. You settled into it and let out a tiny, happy sigh. Then Wayne set down your plate, poured you a hot cup of coffee, and sat down across from you.
“Thank you,” you said, and broke the sunny yolk with your fork.
You were halfway through your breakfast when Eddie finally emerged from his bedroom, rubbing his face tiredly, his hair half as messy as yours.
“G’morning,” he said to his uncle; then he looked at you and said it again, his tone warm and soft. He grabbed a slice of bacon off the table, swiped it through your egg yolk, and ate it while leaning against the counter.
“I tried to call you last night,” Wayne said to him. “I wanted to see how your night went.”
Eddie’s eyes widened. “Oh…”
“You told me to fuck off,” Wayne said, and you blew a huge bubble into your coffee and almost started choking. Wayne looked at you briefly, then went on talking: “Then I tried to call again and you unplugged the damn phone.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I"m very sorry.”
“Mhm,” Wayne said. “Don’t ever do that again, m'kay? What if there was an emergency?”
You brought the coffee mug back to your lips, simpering. “So irresponsible, Eddie…” and he shot you a playful glare.
“I take it you had a good night,” Wayne went on, looking at the both of you.
“Yeah,” Eddie said with a small smile. “Yeah, it wasn’t half bad…”
“Well, I’m glad,” Wayne said. Then he leaned back and folded his arms over his chest, took a single deep breath. “Now, would you care to explain how my jacket got so damn dirty?”
You winced and shot Eddie a secret, pleading look.
“Yes,” Eddie said. “Yes, I can explain everything…”
As he turned to you, his lips curled into a loving yet vengeful smile.
“She did it.”
DWM MASTERPOST
FANFICTION MASTERLIST
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x dwm!reader#wayne munson#dancing with myself#dwm#dwm short#deleted scene#ambrossart
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The Ghost of New Year's Past
Or Polly decided to pop in and now its about Tommy & Diane(oc child) & ghost!Polly who has unfinished business.
Cw: Tommy’s canon depression and guilt over Polly’s death and baby's first contact with the dead(applies to both Tom and Diane)
Could be read as witch!Reader being Tommy’s wife or Eva since no name is mentioned.
He can’t bring himself to drink anymore.
He died that night on the field because in his heart he knew Polly had died because of him.
He sees her and hears her amongst his family as they celebrate the new year and Tommy leaves before it becomes too much.
Tommy has no idea where he is going when he passes by the children’s rooms and hears his eldest daughter, Diane, whispering to someone.
The children had been allowed to stay as late as they wanted but most had already been put to bed by now. In fact he’d personally tucked his little witch into her pink bed and kissed her goodnight hours ago.
“Can I tell daddy you’re here?” the little girl asks as her excitement has her talking just loud enough for him to hear her as he stops at her door.
Tommy cannot guess who would be here with Di, but none of them would be a good idea even if they were harmless little girls. Allie Solomons, Bianca Sabini, Janey Dogs, the little Gold girl who hates him for Aberama’s death, that friend of hers from school, the list goes on as Diane is ---unfortunately--- everyone’s friend.
“Di, sweetheart, I thought you said you were tired.” He comes in to find her sitting on her little table alone with biscuits and cake that she’d somehow gotten downstairs. He knew it was a bad idea to let her learn ballet, now the little witch moved as silently as she got up to mischief.
A trait she inherited from both him and his wife.
There is flash of light ivory satin on the bed in the corner of his eye, perhaps a dress or shawl Diane had taken out to play, but the room is otherwise empty.
“I was, but Aunt Polly came in and I asked her to stay.” The little girl with blue and brown eyes smiles widely and looks at the bed and he follows her line of sight. “She says she can’t have cake and biscuits because ghosts don’t need food like we do.”
“Hello, Thomas, did you miss me?” the ghost of his aunt sits there on the pink bed in the French dress his grandma stole, smoking a cigarette as if nothing had changed.
As if he hadn’t killed her and Barney and Aberama a year ago today.
“How?” he asks doing his best not to panic but feeling every hair on the back of neck rise in fear.
“Hmm, even with a witch for a wife you still do not believe we have magic in our blood.” Polly smiles and gestures him to sit on the bed.
“See I told you he wouldn’t believe it even if he saw me.” She turned to his daughter who tries to calm him with her small doll like hand in his.
“It’s okay, daddy, it’s just Aunt Polly.”
He can’t speak, his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his head spins. Tommy has never fainted in his life and now he tries to hold into something as he feels light-headed.
“And your dear old mummy thought none of you inherited her gifts.” The ghost woman chuckled but refused to touch him.
“How?” he asks again as he shut his eyes and hears Diane leave him alone here with whatever Polly is now.
“Our magical blood allows me to visit those with our gifts and sweet little Di is the most magical of all.” His aunt, his second closest confidant explained. “and I cannot ascend as I have unfinished business, dear nephew of mine.”
“What do you need to pass on?” he asks thinking perhaps if he helps her pass over to the other side he will have peace.
“I need you to swear you won’t kill my son. Even if my Michael believes you killed me, I need you to show him mercy and kill the fucking people who did.”
But that includes me, Pol, he wants to say.
“That is the guilt speaking, Tom. You didn’t kill us, or me least of all. Swing just knows how to get under your skin.” She reads minds now, but Polly always knew him better than he knew himself. “So, Thomas Shelby, do I have your word?”
“Will you never come back if he says yes?” Diane asked with a quivering lip from the door, she’d not left as he thought she did.
“No, sweetheart, I can’t leave until the bad people are gone. And when I go to heaven I will come every All Soul's Day.” The ghost answered softly and the girl calmed down long enough to rejoin them on her bed.
“So, Thomas Shelby, do you promise to do as I asked?” she turned to him again, a bit sterner somewhat impatient as they hear Arthur and John coming up with John’s children.
“Yes, Pol, you have my word.”
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SELFISH
Ch 3: You’re all fucking pathetic
Taglist : @crystal-yukio , @ruler-of-hades , @onigirinchanowo , @ellie3467 , @k1ngan0n , @demon-tears , @heizis , @soggywafle , @nukilol
(I’m so sorry if I couldn’t tag some of you <33)
Note: this idea is given by @obeyme-stuff so thank you for the wonderful idea<33
TW: Public humiliation, violence, minor cusses, mentions of disappearing forever [do let me know if I missed something angels <33]
These past few days had been nothing but hell for the brothers, the royals, the angels, and the two humans. You continued releasing embarrassing material of everyone acting out of character. It was mostly harmless, you wanted to save the best for the last. You were ruthless when it came to them. Everytime they tried to bring you down you always shut them up with little to no remorse. It always brought a smile to your face as you watched their faces, along with Cecilia’s twist into a frown. You closed your eyes and remembered an interaction you had a few hours ago.
“Mc?”
“What the fuck do you want”
“Has anyone told you how pathetic you actually are? Seriously, can you just disappear please?”
“Oh wow.”
“What? Don’t tell me it hurt you you pathetic bitch.”
“Nah, I sure do hope that you and your opinion means shit to me, Belphegor. Infact, why don’t you disappear? I’m sure no one needs a pathetic demon like you anyways.”
“How dare you, you-“
“Enough. You bore me. You always did.”
“What?”
“Yea! You never knew? You were such a fucking loser you know, ever since I met you in that attic. Maybe, I should’ve let you rot in there for as long as time. Now get lost, you pathetic murderer. Disappear, just like how your dearest family member once did.”
“I-“
“Now leave me alone, I could’ve finished a task without your interruption but no! Your lazy ass had to come in, get the fuck out and hopefully you’ll leave me alone. Get out you pathetic excuse of a demon.”
You watched his eyes, as a familiar sadness spread all over his face as he left with his fists balled. You smirked as you whispered loud enough for him to hear “what a loser, hope you get nightmares in your sleep you fucking baby.” His shoulders started shaking as you only giggled at his retreating form.
That interaction always put a smile on your face. Oh how you enjoyed tormenting them all. Especially Cecilia. You spread rumours about how she must’ve slept with all the brothers and the royals and the angels. Everywhere she went, all she was called now was a slut or a whore. And you? You ruthlessly manipulated her. You always pointed out how no one would love her or even look at her of it wasn’t for the brothers. You would also manipulate her into believing that if she didn’t try had enough, even the only source of live she had, would leave her too. It was fun, watching the initial pride she had in her, slowly fade as all she had was an empty look on her face. Like she wasn’t human. To rub even more salt in her wounds, you also instigated fights between you two just so her real nature would show, and it was more than successful considering how the demons would stick to you. As much as you did have fun with her, you couldn’t help but finally expose her once and for all, as you began the preparations for her unforgettable birthday party.
You skipped happily through the halls of RAD, to the newspaper club who were coincidentally incharge of today’s special day which was Cecilia’s birthday . “Mc!” Called Lamia as you happily walked towards her. “Hello human” greeted Mephistopheles as you nodded towards him. “That material you gave us was just pure gold, I got to tell you.” You merely nodded and smiled as Lamia clung to you. “Anyways, why was I called here?” “Lamia thought you would be perfect for today’s party . Plus, why would you turn away the opportunity to shame them all in front of RAD hmm?” Teased Mephistopheles. “Okay Barney.” You stated and walked off preparing for the assembly. He only chased after you while you laughed. Of course the angels noticed you laughing with the demons. “Didn’t know Mc was like that…” said luke. “Let them be luke. It seems like all they do is spend their time with demons, they have forgotten us. Let them be. Maybe they were always like that.” Said an irritated Simeon. “It’s time for the our Cecilia’s birthday, let’s go now.” He said as he gently dragged the little angel along. Of course as the assembly started, you came on the stage. “Hello RAD, how are you all doing on this fine day?” You were met with many cheers from the audience’s side. Cecilia was mad, of course. Even the prince’s smile vanished from his face as he saw you. His initial happiness and excitement was now replaced with Sadness and fear. “What are you planning Mc…”
“Now, as you all know, today is our THIRD EXCHANGE STUDENTS BIRTHDAY!! Let’s give her some cheers shall we?” You stated as you pointed at her. Cecilia, on the other hand, was feeling anxious. She shifted uncomfortably on her throne. “Stand up Cecilia! What’s wrong? We’ve prepared a surprise for you you know! Now stand up sweets~” you cooed as Mammon interrupted. “Hey human, you better stop this now. I’ll kill you I swear-“ “silence. Only speak when prompted, Mammon. I swear you are so crass.” You stated as you rolled your eyes and motioned him to sit down. “Now where were we? As yes! As you all can see, I’ve prepared a special video for not only Cecilia, but for the whole group there!” You stated as the lights shined on them. “Especially our beloved PRINCE DIAVOLO!” You stated as you immediately issued a command and a spell to keep the boys in place. “Now, start it please!” you stated as the lights went low and the video started playing. At first, it was all silly stuff Asmo wailed on about since it “ruined his flawless image.” It soon transitioned into highly controversial videos about everyone bashing or trash talking the entirety of RAD.
“Mc? Remember that one royal? They were horrendous. Who even runs their kingdom like that huh? Truly deplorable indeed. And not to mention how Diavolo always calls me into his shenanigans. Can’t he act like a proper prince for Devildom’s sake? I feel embarrassed whenever I’m with him.”
“Honestly, RAD sucks ya know? It’s nothing but a boring and a dingy place with Lucifer and Diavolo around. Like, how’s one supposed to even steal?! I’m glad I got away with stealing from the palace. Didn’t even know that Lord D could be that dumb.
“Ugh, I’d rather stay here than go physically to RAD. It’s lost it’s charm. That meeting the other day? What a bore really, I literally missed my ruri chan body pillow that day.”
And so on…
The brothers only became more infuriated. However, the next clip of the prince and his butler, was their final straw.
“RAD has been getting more and more disappointing lately Barbatos. I wonder why..”
“Maybe it’s because of the new exchange students young master. Everyone has been of no use to your plans.”
“That’s true. Not even Lucifer is of any help, since he’s nothing but a grumpy demon. Infact, the nobility is of no importance either. They’re just there doing nothing and sitting silly.”
“True. Maybe we should remove them?”
“I suppose you’re right. I’ll be taking the power into my hands then. Anyways let’s focus on our Cecilia’s party and then enact this. I’m sure she will love the new changes we’ve made. It’s her precious idea after all.”
“I suppose so too young master”
“Wow, hear that nobility? You all were just useless for them! And to think you would’ve lost everything if not for me! I wonder, just how much does he actually like you all RAD.” You stated nonchalantly as the video continued. Of course , the nobility of RAD immediately turned their sharp glares at Diavolo. You only giggled as you turned their attention towards you. “No bloodshed here demons~ you do understand it’s our queen’s birthday right~” “to hell with Cecilia” one member whispered. “Now. Finally, onto our Queen’s surprise!” You cheered as you ushered her to stand up. “Play the clip for me darlings~” you stated as everyone looked at the screen as Cecilia’s clip was playing.
“Honestly? Im surprised they chose me over Mc! I mean, who wouldn’t honestly, I’m much better looking than that pathetic sheep. Too bad though, imagine thinking I love them like come on! You think I’ll love a bunch of weirdos? Everyone here is ugly and it seems like I’m the only decent looking of the bunch! I even told Diavolo that he should fire the nobility of RAD! For what you ask? It’s because they bore me. So why not? The prince is so fucking dumb he believes everything I say! He’s so fucking dumb, they all are!”
“End clip please” and it immediately stopped.
The faces on everyone was hilarious, you only smiled as the video went on and as the atmosphere grew angry every second. Not at you, but at Cecilia and her “lovers” as she called them. Once the video ended, you immediately turned towards the audience as you asked with a bright smile on your face. “Well! Did everyone like it?”
Cecilia immediately shot up “How dare you! Were you invading my fucking privacy? You useless piece of trash! You bitch! You’ll pay for this!” only for you to glare at her. Mammon then shot up immediately defending her “Mc you pathetic bitch, how could you do this to us!” “Yes Mc, this is a matter of our privacy. You really enjoy riling us up don’t you? How low could you get really get” “Sit down.” “I’m still not done you know, can’t you keep your anger to yourself? Cecilia? You’re all fucking pathetic. There’s still so much to be said to you, you know.”
“The nights only started sweets~”
<- ->
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kinda late but, do you have any headcanons of eli?
Eli hc!
bisexual king! only really realized it when his relationship with izzy deepened during the 7-hour war
gardens for sure
grampa energy, likes silly little trinkets, has little ceramic birds and doodads and silly tea sets he saved through the years
really fucking good at boardgames
him and alyx are best friends man they care about each other sooo much, he's her dad and her best friend
lost leg during the 7hour war, in an explosion from a strider
he likes animals, he actually enjoys lamarr and for sure like to bird watch
he for sure has a pigeon loft
Eli uses a cane let him use a cane (alyx used to put stickers on it when she was little)
eli is for sure protective over alyx, not because he doesn't think shes is capable but because he wants the absolute best for her
he isnt too fond of barney. i feel him and barney would have of a back and forth when barney first joined the resistance. barney who i personally hc with a bit of anger problems and who gets anxious in tough situations, asks eli for more of a leadership position in the resistance and eli just denies him over and over. i feel eli would see barney as a bit immature, and it would a while for eli to even consider giving barney any sort of position of authority.
eli and mangnusson play chest together
eli would break up fights between izzy and Magnusson
eli is sorta a peace keeper to me
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We're Best Friends as Friends should be
Cult of Chucky oneshot
Characters: Andy Barclay, Chucky
Warnings: Constant exposing to silly children shows used as some sort of phiscological torture method.
Summary: Andy accidentally discovers an alternative method to avenge his destroyed childhood. For most of the time he had been playing with Chucky in the bloody way he was taught by him, but he had still left to try making him suffer in the way of a child.
Note: Inspired by this post i saw and couldn't let go lol
Tags: @losersclubisms @series-thoughts I apologise to both of you in advance for this nonsense lol
Chucky loved to talk and his captor needed someone to talk to. Not all their conversations had to end in torture sessions, despite many eventually would, but Andy was learning a lot about him whenever he would let him talk. For instance, his complete ignorance of the lore of the Good Guy show lead him to an enlightening realization.
He had no idea about the very same thing he used to destroy his life and that had been never used against him. Chucky endured the physical damage knowing he had the upper hand in the mental, breaking the already broken child living in the memories of the sick man he had become.
Not for long, little Andy was going to have his turn to break him when his adult version would try his tools on him. The doll was forced to endure hours of watching episodes of the show he ruined for him along with his childhood over and over. Andy would set things very carefully so he would have no choice but to stare at the screen, often leaving him for hours. The goal was making that the song would become a trigger, just like it happened to him after Chucky came to his life.
The results were surprising and he continued experimenting, soon starting to switch shows. Most didn't even come from his childhood memories, but were considerably more annoying to the adult eye than the Good Guy show ever was. Andy wanted to make sure Chucky wouldn't get a single instant to be comfortable, even if he wouldn't be actively harming him at the time.
It didn't take him long to discover the one Chucky ended up hating the most.
" Ehh - Hoo!" He macabrely saluted the doll head. " Want some more? "
The screen was still displaying an endless cycle of Telletubies when he removed the gag.
" FUCK YOU, ANDY!!" Was the enraged answer his tease obtained. " IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL TORTURE? BE A MAN AND GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE SHIT!"
Andy chuckled to himself, aware that he was just trying to provoke him into turning it off.
" ... But that would give you a distraction and that is exactly what you want. " He recalled, merciless. " Admit it, Chucky. You can't stand it anymore. You would prefer I would be burning you alive to keep watching."
" I'm getting used to it. Tinky Winky is a dumbass and Dipsy wakes up every morning choosing chaos. " The doll attempted to deny the obvious out of pride. " Laa-Laa is a bossy bitch and that whinny little shit of Po should be thrown off the cliff."
Andy gave him a skeptical smirk and pretended to carry on with his day careless for him, what made Chucky more impatient.
" I get it, when you were a kid I made you believe life with me was gonna be like Barney and I gave you Annabelle. Is that what this is about? Push down my throat all the lies i told you? "
The unexpected comment made the man stop in his tracks.
" Don't worry, Chuck! You are still on time to make it up. We are going to be the best of friends, just like you promised. "
It was a strongly ironical tease and it was about to get even more ironical.
" I love you, you love me. We are a happy family. " Andy began to sing." With a great big hug, and a kiss from me to you. Won't you say you love me too? "
On top of the uncomfortable time he was making him go through, Andy also wanted to ironically humilliate him and he was not going to allow it.
" Don't you fucking dare." Chucky warned, cutting him off. " Bring the flamethrower, I'm not gonna do that shit."
" I could bring noise cancelling headphones. " His captor warned. " Telletubies is all you are going to hear for the rest of the day ..."
If he could be honest, Chucky would rather be killed. Since that was not an option, he just kept an initial silence intending to conserve his pride.
" C'mon Chucky! " Andy insisted, in a tone that resembled a little bit to the children he once meet. " It's your line."
He didn't have much of a choice, not at that point, and the disgust in his face perfectly matched his dark singing.
" I love you, you love me. We're best friends like friends should be ..."
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I write HL fics sometimes so go check 'em out. links and excerpts under the read more. yeet
In the Eye of the Beholder - benignmilitancy - Half-Life [Archive of Our Own]
It wasn't a conscious decision.
It seldom is.
Risk factors. As if one's life can be reduced to a chemical deficit.
---
He can't say where it started, only where it's led him.
He saw the dwindling rations, the tight pinched miens of the men around him. The incessant chatter of a television broadcasting some new infathomable horror.
He ate less, started giving Kleiner his share. You need it more than I do.
Maybe the transference is why Kleiner started fighting battles on his behalf. Merely breathing is an incredible act of courage. I'll not have you speak ill to him when he's ailing.
"What about the rest of us, Kleiner? Do you really think this has just been peaches for us? Damned facility took everything! May God have mercy on our souls, because this coalition certainly won't spare us!"
In the days following the Seven Hours, he experienced no passions, no ambitions, no plans or desires. Consciousness a blank expanse. He became an unthinking creature, a vegetable at the ripe old age of twenty-three, confined to lying on a dirty couch, waiting for it to become a coffin.
A hand rustling the pillow beneath him, propping him up. A spoonful of flavorless chicken broth poised to his chapped lips, which parted out of reflex and allowed the liquid to slip inside.
Occasionally he felt fingers, dry and cold, knead his throat.
You must live. Kleiner, a tremulous wisp. Our hubris stole your future. Barney, I promise with whatever breath is granted me, I'll correct this grievous wrong.
---
I believe the Combine intend to show us every horror possible. They'll try to strip us of our rationality, our humanity, our sanity and our very souls. They'll parade us as animals to be gawked at and specimens to be dissected. You cannot do their work for them, Barney.
Life has no intrinsic meaning, it's true. We can neither rationalize nor justify our existence. We may not have a reason to continue. But there is such cohesion, such structure, to the universe that I find it impossible to believe we don't have a place in it at all. Let us be damned before we let our aggressors define it for us.
For a single sublime moment, Kleiner's hope made him beautiful.
Bless the wretched, who cling to scraps as they drift through this dark sea.
---
Mycotoxin - benignmilitancy - Half-Life (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]
Hammer Two forges ahead and freezes at the threshold.
"Oh, sh... " And then it remembers. "Untagged biotics in Sector Nineteen."
Ghost Five staggers back in, twists and convulses beneath a pulsating mask of black mold. Spores spray on each exhale of the ventilator, latching onto the dust motes and burning. Asthmatic smoke.
Christ. Fall back. Bear back.
Daggers discharge. Raindrops in a puddle. The sterilizers have nowhere to go. They're simply eaten.
Hammer Two activates its wall and pulls up its hammer, sloughing sparks. There is something gladiatorial in the way it creeps toward Ghost Five. Near valiant. But the moment dies brutishly: the wall sputters and half of Hammer Two disintegrates. The other half slumps to the carpet. Carrion. Feasted upon. What it is now, the others don't know.
What's the designation? someone asks. Questions ripple through them.
What's the designation.
Spores.
The designation.
Mold?
Designation.
"You fucking morons, who cares what it is?"
They call for their mother, who responds with cold silence.
OVERWATCH WE ARE REQUESTING DESIGNATION
WE HAVE UNTAGGED
---
Derailed - benignmilitancy - Half-Life [Archive of Our Own]
Rain bombs the rooftops, a thousand simultaneous explosions silvering the streets. Water rattles the drainpipes loose from their bolts. Skies weep, unable to inhale. Endless baptisms rinse the city clean. He hasn't seen anything like it since the Seven Hours.
The man who stepped in front of the razor train, the whole and complete Kevlar-clad body he used to belong to, asked him in a thin whisper: You think it'll work?
Will what work?
Your Resistance. Go poking at the beast and it'll tear your head right off the stump.
---
Mask - benignmilitancy - Half-Life [Archive of Our Own]
After a moment of silence, you roll up the hem of your armor.
They can't help but stare at the purple welt puckered over your right kidney. The flesh folded inward, the serrated ghosts of stitches puncturing brown skin.
Torso pads caught most of it. You appraise it with a nonchalant sniff. He cut it from a tin can, y'know, didn't know how to hold it the right way, and, uh. You trace the scar, almost fondling it under the pad of your index finger, before lowering your hem. He ran when he saw it broke off. They sent a couple shredders after him. Didn't make it past the front gate.
You sigh then and throw a stick into the oil drum. Golden cinders flare.
You know the real fucked part? As you were bleeding on the floor like a stuck pig? You got pissed at him. You. The mask. They were chasing him out the door and all you could think was, Just you wait, you raggedy little shit.
---
Path of the Borealis - benignmilitancy - Half-Life [Archive of Our Own]
Alone, he contemplated his failure.
One thread remained.
He crushed it.
Windows shattered outward, crashing tidal waves of glass into the darkness. Incandescent tubes scorched around him, belching sparks that caught on the upholstery. The tram's chassis screeched as the car folded in on itself, metal joints and steel bones scrunching with papery ease.
The last vortal cord sizzled protest in his fist.
Doctor Freeman. The darkness harbored lungs, and it prepared to scream. It… appears we've been quite… obdurate.
---
"You call me less than human. You, who are no more than an animal yourself, terrified of any glimmer of truth illuminating the shadows playing upon the cavern walls of your dim consciousness. What possible use could we have for you, an evolutionary dead end clinging wretchedly to its last vestiges? Only a fool would believe her short-lived passions serve us in the palace of the enlightened."
Breen dropped her. Let her crawl.
Long, jointed fingers grasped her ankles and dragged back its prey, letting the steel grate abrade her Hunter wounds. The floor's ridges scraped her flesh until her scabs cracked. A cold, seeping trickle smeared across her stomach, joining the sweat dampening her undershirt.
"I am the gentlest propagator of this process, believe you me. The native-born aren't quite as considerate for the concerns of the flesh, but I still remember what it means to be saddled down by human foible."
Clutching her throbbing shoulder, Alyx scrabbled in vain at the floor. Toward the launcher, toward anything that could offer salvation. Her heart slammed inside her ribcage, full to burst.
"I can improve you, perfect you in ways your simian cerebrum can hardly grasp. Have you seen the thorough work I've done with Dr. Mossman? How easily I've washed away her pesky flaws? One can't help but appreciate her now that she lacks her stubborn streak, her subtle arrogance driven by fears of inadequacy. Far better than the existing stock, wouldn't you agree?"
This couldn't be it. She couldn't die here, not to him, not with Mossman watching—
" …Now, there, you won't feel a thing, I promise. This baptism is the most invigorating thing you will ever do. Doesn't that sound far kinder a fate than any afterlife could purport to be? And who better to convert you than me?
"Not to worry: you're in much more capable hands than the ones that clutched your father. His death was an unrefined mess I wish not to repeat. No; for my next piece, I intend to chip away at you until what remains cannot even be called broken."
In the midst of horror, a place of calm. A clear voice.
Look, her father said. Look closer.
No; closer. Past the shock and pain and helplessness; past the blood pooling through limestone; peel back the layers, quiet the scrape of the scream writhing from your throat; stop feeling, stop grieving and see; what remains?
The Advisor in the barn. Bearing pockmarks from its damaged life support.
Alyx, her father said. Look in the inhuman eyes of the one who killed me.
---
Around her, darkness laughed. Stupid girl. Your father suffered many nightmares, but only one was born of choice.
[Lies.]
Whether hand or mind willed it, she didn't know. The former slipped into her boot and curled around a familiar curve.
[Vindicate me. Extinguish these lies.]
Alyx slaked off the HEV with a shove and brandished the pincer. Let the bastard's amused gaze absorb the glint of the weapon that had lured the terrified animal from Breen's host body, made the human inside taste hell.
"This is what you really want, right?" It turned, wry amusement etching Gordon's features. "What you arranged in Black Mesa." With a spirit as chillingly clear as ice, she poised the tip over her heart. "Let him go." Pushed in until the point sank through the parka's outermost skin, slitting tender down. "Or you lose everything."
Unperturbed in the slightest, it rose, and walked toward the fire. "Of the various species I have encountered, I have noted core characteristics." Emerald radiance blurred its edges. Gordon immolated. Gordon through a stained-glass window. Exalted. Untouchable. "They are born, cold, hungry, and screaming, into a world where their suffering engenders no meaning. Rather than endure such an existence, many seek relief. They embrace the end."
The pincer quaked.
"All except one. You do not know how to die."
The light was as holy as it was alien. Heatless like oblivion. Like transcendence.
"It is because you do not know how to die that your kind worships shadows. I knew your Resistance would never come to be without a sacrificial lamb or two. For that role, I could have chosen anyone. You, well. Provided the most convenient means, shall we say.
"To put it in the simplest terms I can: I don't like squandering my investments." Smooth metal nudged her breast. The heart, pumping worthless blood, accelerated at the intrusion. "At Black Mesa, I hoped to purge you of your afflictions. But I see my methods have failed. Instead, you passed your strain onto your neighbor."
Instinct checked her hand, prevented her from carrying out the threat.
The entity huffed a noiseless laugh as she relented her grip. "The flesh is a prison. It craves survival."
tery power is
four p
Reduced to a crawl, she knelt beside Barney's prone form while the entity raised its arms, spreading veined wings of cables and cords. If she couldn't commit the crucial deed, she could at least... At least...
"There is nowhere to run, Miss Vance. You both belong to me," it said, "the organs of my body."
---
Something Secret Steers Us - benignmilitancy - Half-Life [Archive of Our Own]
Maybe all their struggles amounted to futile effort, a fool's errand. An armored suit worn once and tucked away.
She wouldn't accept her death with any of the grace her mother and father had. She'd be dragged screaming into the dark, gnashing her teeth and biting the hand that supposedly fed.
Until now, she'd been measuring herself against this shadow in her head, this specter of Eli, weighing whether or not he'd have done the same in her circumstances. And she'd been so certain, so absolutely sure her father would have done the right thing, wouldn't have let anyone under his protection die.
"I can't take this," she whispered. "Between Dad and Barney and Gordon, it feels like I'm being crushed… And I know they need me to hold it together, I know… But making these decisions over who lives and who dies… How am I supposed to do that?"
But maybe he would have. The prospect that she didn't really know him at all, what he was capable of in a similar moment of blind, abject desperation, terrified her. That behind every self-effacing moment of his was calculation. That his insistence not to saint him but to look to Gordon instead—so certain this myth of a man held the answers they sought—had been in fact meticulously designed to get her to this point, with Gordon as the control. Solved like an equation, by proof and by axiom, whose life will pay the greater dividend? Whose life may we cast aside? Show your work, Dr. Vance.
#'tis the season for half-life. fa la la la la la la#half-life#half life#fanfic#half life fanfiction#I didn't list all of it but. w/e
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Finally another person that hates HIMYM as much as I do. There isn't a show that I hate more tbh, like there are shows I dislike, but that damn show is something else. Just like you I hate what they did to Robin(and she's the only character I kind of liked; I liked Ted when he wasn't trying to be like Barney and when he would actually call Barney out, which sadly wasn't too often)...and I hate how more often than not the show treated Barney's treatment of women as a joke, or rather the show rarely called him out, and i especially hate the way they ended his character arc, I was like "oh now he'll see women as humans" *eye roll*-- I hate that trope so damn much. The show had potential, and the premise was interesting, it's just that the show was filled with the worst tropes and some of the worst characters on today's tv(or ever, really). I just cannot for the life of me understand its popuplarity.
Also, oh my god yes, I totally agree with you on that final season. What the hell were the writers thinking?!
>"I liked Ted when he wasn't trying to be like Barney and when he would actually call Barney out, which sadly wasn't too often"
one of the most unaware things the show does is pretend Barney is a foil to Ted when Ted and Barney are extremely similar in their views of women. The difference is that Barney is always on, and it's always a goofy heightened reality, while Ted will be written fairly straight wrt wanting to sleep with women.
>"I hate that trope so damn much."
a baby daughter fixed me is definitely one of the worst tropes and also is sooooo fucking lazy. they didn't build a story around Barney in which him having a baby girl in the 11th hour would feel cathartic, that's why it feels so cheap. If he had conflicted feelings about his life and about fatherhood at all, it would still be a lazy and misogynistic choice, but it would at least follow some story logic. it's like a big ass trifecta of shit: Robin and Ted endgame, mother dead, Barney has a fucking baby.
Writing that reminds me that they have Robin "fail" both of her love interests by not being able to have children since children are obviously the one true ultimate goal in this story. A child fixes Barney, and Robin wouldn't have ever been able to do that for him. Truly ridiculous. But anyway I haven't gotten that far yet.
>"I just cannot for the life of me understand its popuplarity"
I have thoughts on this, looking back on old subreddits I think a lot of people hand waved unpleasant parts of HIMYM because they wanted to believe the set-up they were seeing was intentional. Most of it was not as intentional as believed and it ended up being poorly done for the actual planned ending. Case in point: the internal life of Robin is clearly not something the writers cared about. But because the story is focused on who she loves and wants to be in a relationship with, fans thought 'well the internal life of Robin is being treated seriously, so I will read into the subtext'. I think this also comes off because Cobie cares about Robin's internal life. I don't think the writers ultimately know why Robin loves Barney, but I think Cobie knows. I wonder if the writers ever really cared what the actors believed was true about their characters. There needs to be some give and take on this even if writers ultimately gets to decide how the story plays out.
Additionally, I think the five leads are very charming and elevate a lot of material, they all have exceptional physical comedy chops. People liked the characters when they were good, tried to close their eyes when they were bad, and hoped the good parts were leading somewhere satisfying.
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god maybe if i hadmt spent 7 hours of my life on martinson college i mkghtve gotten my lil freehoun fic in near publishable condition
#its so cute#a lil tenderness of the prerescas variety#but no#i spemt hours of my life looking for a fictional school that probably nevsr fucking existed becuz randy decided to jist make a mae up#for barneys school instead of looking uo an actusl college#just like he made up an entire military base#i unders tsmd making up a military base BUT A FUCKING COLLEGE OF WHICH BARNEY SPENT 2 FUCKING YEARS AT???#UR GONNA MAKE THST UP RANDY??? FOR WHAT REASON#And look at me im gonna pick the search up again tomorrow smh#iwillspeakincessantly
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Midnights: Chapter 8
MASTERLIST — MIDNIGHTS MASTERLIST
Summary: After the failure of his plan and later, his suicide attempt, Tommy thinks he reached the bottom. But fate still has a few cards to play.
A/N: we’re getting closer and closer to the end of the show and I decided to use this chapter as a bridge between s5 and s6 (as this particular event is mentioned in both). But this will be the last chapter set in s5 and then, the story will cover what happened in s6! I hope you enjoy this and see you next week! 💗
Warnings: mentions of death and tommy’s suicide attempt (+ the aftermath), dark thoughts and overall angst
Word count: 906 words (don’t worry, next one will be much longer)
Night had draped the land of its velvet quilt as Tommy stared blankly at his hands, sitting in the lone office. Lizzie and the children had gone to bed hours ago, leaving Tommy alone to face his thoughts.
Lizzie had tried to get him to speak, to react in some other way than the dull and monotone speech he gave the family as he announced Polly’s death. But Tommy had no strength left in him. No anger, no sadness. He was just tired.
But they wouldn’t let him pass.
He had found himself deep in the mud again, praying for the agony to end. But even the release of death was too sweet for him. Tommy wasn’t meant for peace, he was meant for destruction and despair.
Lizzie’s furious gaze, as she threw the unused bullets at him, was proof of that. You’re a coward, Tommy. The words were filled with venom, spiteful and true. He was a coward. But giving up was all he had left.
Now Barney was dead because of him. Aberama was dead because of him. And Polly…
Tommy bit the inside of his cheeks, tightly clasping his hands together. He couldn’t start crying. He had to think about his next step. How he would avenge her. And for that, he needed to be clear-headed.
All he wanted was the ache to stop but he didn’t have any way out. His last, desperate attempt miserably failed like the rest. Even killing himself wasn’t an option anymore. He was at the bottom of the abysmal pit of despair. Like in the tunnels when they would dig too deep, they wouldn’t see the light for weeks except for the petrol lamps they carried; the air was rare and their lungs filled with dirt and dust particles.
That’s how Tommy felt. Like he couldn’t breathe. Like he was suffocating, in a dark confined room.
He still felt the barrel of the gun against his temple—cold and lethal, he could still hear Grace calling out to him but where darkness should have reigned, he found himself face in the mud. It wasn’t until Lizzie arrived that he realized he was still alive and how fucking ridiculous he was. Because she knew he had pulled the trigger. She knew what his intention was. And it was a selfish, spineless move.
But a part of him felt the sting of her words—worth a million bullets to the head. Lizzie had a big heart, she was gentle and loving but there was no more love left for him. Only a pure, vindictive hatred. And Tommy’s failed attempt to take his life away only hurt more as he realized that now, he would have to face his wife, his children, knowing he wanted to disappear, to never see them again.
Tommy’s intention wasn’t to get away from them. He hadn’t even thought about not seeing them if he killed himself. It just felt like the last thing he could do, the thing he should have done a long time ago to stop the endless cycle of suffering. But he was still alive.
And the suffering was far from being over.
As he sat in his gloomy office, he wondered if the only reason he had failed to kill himself was to discover the bodies. To face the deadly consequences of his limitless actions— like some twisted joke from the universe.
The sight of Polly lying on the driveway was engraved on his eyelids, meant to haunt him for the rest of his miserable life. She was still wearing the blue dress he last saw her with, a maroon stain where the knife had struck her. Captain Swing had told him on the phone, explained her scheme in a vicious attempt to show her control— he had lost the game to her. Tommy didn’t want to believe it as he rushed outside, Lizzie’s confused eyes following him. But, Captain Swing had won. She had managed to easily dismantle his infallible plan. And he didn’t see anything coming.
Why? Why didn’t he, Thomas Shelby, see anything coming? He was by far the most clever one in his family, he had built his entire empire from scratch. Why didn’t he fucking see it coming?
His gaze fell on the bottle of whiskey and the half-empty glass. The golden hues seemed to answer his silent question. Whiskey and opium. The fuels meant to keep him functioning. The only things that could quiet down the voices in his head, make his mind clearer…Or so he thought.
They didn’t make his mind clearer. They numbed him. Turned him into a phantom, plagued with visions and angry wraiths.
He didn’t see the Captain’s attempts to steal his crown because he was far too deep into his own mind, between clouds of golden brown and rivers of moonshine.
Yes, that was the reason.
Tommy stared at the whiskey and the small vial of opium before hastily grabbing them and throwing everything in the hearth.
The flames, exposed to the poison, erupted and the air soon wafted pongs of ammonia. He would see clearly now. The haze blurring his mind would vanish and he would see everything. No one would ever be able to bring him down.
He would get revenge. Kill every single one of his enemies. No matter the time it would take him, no matter the blood he would have to spill.
Polly will be avenged.
Taglist: @aaskoct @cillmequick @dandelionprints @edmundo-diaz @forgottenpeakywriter @huntingingoodwill @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @jokim @julkaamazing @lili12356 @look-at-the-soul @lyarr24 @midnightmagpiemama @milkshakelol @notyour-valentine @rangerelik @salvatoremeanssavior @thesoldiersminute @emotionalcadaver @zablife @shelbydelrey @peakypolly
#midnights#anna's fics#ma ptite bombasse 🥰#tommy <3#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby fic#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby#peaky blinder fanfic
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first of all, i literally love ur acc. b99? ts? barney and robin? robin pt 2 but hot lesbian stranger things version w insanely cute x reader fics? YES PLS. secondly, i saw that u were taking reqs for robin (buckley) fics and i think a song fic / fic inspired by the song “lover” would make me pee my pants but really. i want it so bad. i would be 1000% honored if u decide to take this req <3
alright so i fucking loved this. first, you were SO sweet, i'm crying, i love you so much. second, taylor swift is probably 91% of my personality so it works perfectly. thank you @leadmetodgarden for such an amazing request!!!
(i hope you meant lover by taylor cause if not this is awkard...)
the thing is, i got a little too exited...
i've written, as of right now, more than 10k, which is way longer than i've ever written, (imma one shot type of gal) and i still have one chapter to go
also before i post this i wanna clarify two things:
english is absolutely not my first language, this was written with the help of google docs and google translator, every mistake is immediately and utterly their fault
i'm not that sure of how christmas actually works there in the united states. i dont think you guys have Christmas Eve dinners that last until midnight, cause you open your gifts the next day (lame!), but for the sake of the fic, let's pretend you do
quick summary:
five christmasses with robin <3 (alternative tittle: almost plotless fluff)
finally, here it is:
i want them all, robin x you (part 1!)
“And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear.
Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”
part 2 here
Christmas sucked. It always did. Too much sugar and alcohol close to families who were a little bit too close to collapse entirely. But this year, on the contrary, it was just too quiet. You and your family were completely new in town, having moved just a couple days ago. Maybe it was the absence of controversial family members, furniture or feeling of home and belonging, but not even your parents were in the mood this year.
You had dinner at eight, watched half of the worst christmas movie on the tiniest, shittiest tv and they were both already in bed, fast asleep.
There were still two hours till midnight and you were not going to spend them on your mattress on the floor. It was just too depressing. So you grabbed your bike, a book, a blanket and your walkman and biked until you found a Seven Eleven.
There isn't a single soul out, but you can feel the festive vibe on the hair. All the houses are carefully decorated and music is going through every single door. It seems like you are the only one who isn't celebrating.
Well, you, the cashier and the girl outside, who are having a heated argument through the glass door.
"Oh, cmon, Kyle! It's Christmas!" she yells. The dude is on the door, physically stopping the girl from coming in.
"Exactly! My shift ended seven minutes ago! No. More. Customers."
Seeing that you are already on the register waiting for him to charge you, Kyle closes the glass door on her face. She responds with her middle finger, but you didn't think he notices. You hand him your things and he begins to scan them.
"That'll be all?" he asks. You look to the side. The girl is still there, even with this cold.
"No, actually. Wait a second, please." You hear him complain when he sees what you’re going to do, but you don't care.
You approach the door and get the girl's attention.
"What do you want?" you ask. The girl, who’s sitting on the floor, right next to the door, looks up with confused eyes.
"No! Don't worry, he's just being a dick."
"No, c'mon. What do you want??"
"Are you sure it's okay?"
You nodd repeatedly, as you hear Kyle yell "Hurry up!" from behind.
"Just a coke and some chocolate?"
"Great!"
You get her stuff and pay for everything. You even give Kyle a five dollar tip, but he keeps the same pissed off expression. You get your bag and hurry out of there, wishing him a Merry Christmas on your way out.
Out you meet the girl. She’s taller than you, maybe for a couple of inches and has a blue dress that’s now stained with mud and blood? but she doesn't seem to be aware of it. She’s also shivering from the cold, her jacket not being able to put up a fight against the cold of December.
"Thank you!" she says as soon as you are out the door. "You didn't have to…"
"Well, it’s Christmas after all" you give her the stuff. She gives you five bucks and you don't have the heart to tell her it was more. She looks like she isn't having the best day ever.
"Yeah…" she looks down at the bag with a sigh.
"I hope that chocolate is okay?"
She looks up again, with a smile this time. She has a nice smile. "It's perfect. I'm Robin, by the way."
"I'm Y/N."
"Nice to meet you.” her rebel hairs dance around with the wind and she’s still shivering, but instead of going away she asks “I’ve never seen you around… Are you visiting for the holidays?”
“No.” you shake your head “I actually moved here a couple days ago.”
“Oh…” there’s a weird undertone there, but you can't quite place it “Welcome, then.”
You accept the gesture, giving her a smile. It almost seems like she hates this place as much as you do, which is weird and kinda scary, but also makes you feel a little less alone.
“I, um… I should get back?" You see her hesitate in the last part of the sentence. It’s pretty obvious she does not want to go back to wherever she came from.
You try to find an alternative, a way to make her stay even a second longer, but you couldn't figure out a single reasonable explanation for why you, two complete strangers, should spend the night together. So you agree with her. "Yeah me too."
"I don't really want to…" she confesses. You’re glad she did.
"Me too"
"Crappy Christmas at your house too? " she asks, you chuckle and she smiles harder.
"Yeah"
"I…" she doubts for a second, but your eyes meet hers with kindness and reassurance so she keeps going "I know it's kinda weird for me to suggest this, but I could, maybe, show you around?… I feel like I should pay you back in some way."
She looks embarrassed and absurdly cute, so there's no other chance but to say yes.
"Yeah, I picked up the serial killer vibe, but honestly it has been one of those days. So let's go."
You bike in silence, occasionally making a turn, with the wind hitting your faces like buckets of freezing water. And just as you're about to ask how long is this gonna take you find the building.
It is old, huge and it looks like nobody had painted it for at least sixty years. The fence was closed, obviously, but she didn't mind. You watched amused and impressed how easily she climbed up the fence and trespassed school property.
And if you weren't already sure you liked her this was probably a very clear indicator.
She guides you through what is going to be your high school the rest of the school year. You had to admit, it was way better inside than outside and had a pretty sweet auditorium. Still, it was smaller than the last one.
“And… here's my favorite place.” she says as she points at the old library door. You wait for her to open it, like she did with all the rooms before it. She notices. “Oh, they actually close this one during the nights. Someone, definitely not me, may have stolen a few, definitely not more than ten, books and manuals.”
You laugh. She was more of a nerd than you had thought. Interesting. She watches through the window on the door with sadness in her features, so pass your hand through your hair till you find the perfect tool. A hair pin. It's a little old and it might break, but it was your only option.
“More than ten?” you ask as you kneel in front of the lock.
“No way! Does that actually work? I always thought it was movie bullshit…” you hum yes, focused on your task. “It was thirteen books, by the way”
“Thirteen?” you laugh.
“I know! But I swear I was going to give them back…” you look at her with an eyebrow up and her innocent face falls apart “Eventually.”
“Aha…” you tease and she wants to protest but you finally get the door to open “There it is!” she squeals with excitement and that's the cutest sound you’ve heard in a while. “Just no more playing book thief”
She laughs and comes into the room, you follow right behind. You settle your things at the biggest table, Robin does the same, and even though there were still twenty minutes till midnight the two of you kinda set up a fake Christmas table.
When everything is in order you take the liberty to explore around for a while. They have good stuff, nothing too special. It needs an update, of course, as many things do these days. But, overall, you aren't so mad about the collection. Until, of course, you see the reading list for sophomore year.
“Robin!” you call out to her. She sticks her head out the language alley and looks over, curious. “Have you seen this shit?”
“Wha– oh, you’ve found the reading list. I know.”
“Not a single woman?” she nods in agreement, “What year are we? Fucking 1935?”
“Totally. And! The whole deal this year is, like, horror and science fiction. How do you teach horror and science fiction without Frankenstein?”
You agree with her, still offended. “It 's ridiculous.” You complain as you both go back to the table. You try sitting down, but it feels… odd. “This is weird, right?” She nods, so you settle for a space of floor between bookshelves. “Better”
“Much better.”
You talk and you share your food and complain a bit more about the educational system. After a while her eyes focus on one of the books behind you. You turn to look too. You’re in the poetry section and the book she’s staring at was a compilation, written by someone called Emily Dickinson. You haven’t heard about her, poetry wasn’t really your deal. But you did enjoy it.
Robin leaves her spot on the floor to grab it, and you’re confused when instead of keeping it for herself she tries to hand it to you.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“Well, it’s Christmas after all. And you’ve already given me all of these…” She points at the food spread on the floor “So this is your gift.”
You smile “I haven’t even started at this school and I already have stolen something…” You reflect. Robin starts to second guess her decision.
“If you don’t like it it’s totally fine, I–“
“No, I love it. Thank you so much, Robin.”
You fall into a comfortable silence that doesn't last much longer.
"Can I ask you a question?" she says.
"Yeah."
"If you could run away…" she starts, and you see how her eyes light up with possibilities from just thinking of making it out of here "No money needed, no strings attached. Where would you go?"
You think for a while. "Italy" She seems to like the answer.
"Can I ask why?"
"My grandma lived in Italy most of her life. I want to see every place she talked about. And you?"
"Everywhere except Hawkins" she sentences. You smile sadly, how terrible her life had to be for her to want to escape so badly from her hometown. "But Europe is the dream, for sure."
You don't want to be disrespectful, but the mystery was eating you up. What is she doing here? What, or who, is she running from?
“Can I ask what are you doing in the school library at eleven forthy two on christmas eve? Or is it too soon?”” you don't want to make her feel uncomfortable, so you ask carefully.
She lowers her gaze. Fuck, you blew it.
“Im sorry” you whisper. She shakes her head and looks up with an expression you can't quite read.
“No, it's fine.” she sighs, grabbing another chocolate before starting to talk “Extended family came over. Aunts and uncles and little cousins type of Christmas.”
“Uh, rough.”
“Yes” she chuckles. “And my parents are usually cool, but family approval has always been their achilles heel. So you know, clean house, no swearing and this stupid dress.”
“Honestly, the dress isn't that bad”
“Cmon…”
“I'm serious!” you say but it's obvious she doesn't believe you. “It’s like… you know when you eat those little candy balls? And how sometimes the colors get mixed up and you eat a red one but it tastes like a blue one. It looks like that. It's not bad, it's just not… sincere? I guess”
As soon as you finish your deep analysis you notice she was staring. Head slightly tilt to the side, confused expression, like she’s trying to figure out how the hell did you come to that conclusion.
“That's exactly how I feel. Constantly.”
“That makes two of us.” You cheer for your problems with the two cokes you’d bought, which, thanks to the weather of December, were still pretty cold. “So, apart from sexism and really bad taste in books, is there anything more about Hawkins that you need to warn me about?”
Her eyes light up and you don't know if it is from the implicit question of a future together, but you hope so. There’s something special about this girl.
“Oh, there's so many people I need to warn you about! So many assholes” you can't hold the laughter that escapes your lips. She said it with such an innocent smile.
“That's great! So excited to start, then” Your sarcasm makes her laugh too.
“At least we can shit talk together?”
“Robin Buckley, you're officially the first, and only, person I like in this entire town.”
“Honestly? You too.” You cheer again, just as the clock showes midnight. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
“Merry Christmas!”
#wlw#stranger things#robin buckley#robin buckley x you#dating robin buckley#robin buckley x female reader#lgbt
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SPRALBERT IS AMAZING TOO
anything including my child al
OKAY SICK
ALSO I HOPE YOU WERE ASKING ABOUT THE MODERN AU BC THAT'S WHAT I'M ABOUT TO RANT/INFODUMP WITH THIS
T/W IT'S VIOLENT BC @noxexistant GAVE ME PERMISSION TO USE THE FIGHT CLUB AU
And also t/w for cursing and mentioned homophobia as well
BELOW THE CUT
The Delanceys started the RFC (Refuge Fight Club, more commonly known as the Ring) when Oscar turned 14, Morris was 12. They had an itch that needed to be scratched, and they knew that the only way to do that was to fight. At least this way, they had consent to kick the others’ asses. No holds barred, bare knuckled fistfights. These are all out brawls that happen in the basement of the Refuge. The two of them hold top spot for years. There’s an age requirement (no one under 13-originally placed so Oscar could keep Morris safe just a little longer). There’s rules against girls fighting (Oscar underestimates everyone. He thinks that being born with a uterus means you’re weak). There’s special brutality toward out lgbt folk.
Albert is the first to break the age requirement. He’s only 10 when he fights for the first time. He’s allowed to fight because he essentially bullies Oscar (who’s six years older, and at least two feet taller) into letting him do it. And by bully, I mean this kid pranks him relentlessly. It starts with small things. Hand in warm water while he sleeps, whipped cream in the hand and tickle his nose, stealing his clothes while he’s in the shower. They’re simple, harmless pranks.
Until they’re not.
Soon, Albert is oiling the stairs-hurting Oscar, Morris, and several of his own friends (he feels so fucking bad about his friends getting hurt). He’s putting mousetraps on the floor below his and Morris’s bed.
Oscar asks him what it would take for him to fucking stop before someone actually gets hurt, and Albert tells him that he’s gotta let him fight, just once. If he holds his own, he keeps fighting, and if not he’ll know better.
Albert fights almost every day after that. Fights daily until he’s exhausted and heaving with it, but he grins the entire time. He loses about twice a week, when he’s too exhausted for the fight to go on too long, and he’s in and out of the ring. But he goes, patches himself up, and passes out on a bed for roughly 22 hours. He eats, and immediately goes down to the basement, looking for whoever had beaten him the night before.
His first break in that pattern comes when Antonio gets put in the Refuge (he’s 11). Toni is appalled by the Ring at first. He thinks it’s brutal and horrifying and all these other things. But, he starts thinking about the bets his papá made at the horse track in Brooklyn, and his brain starts working out how maybe they could do that with the fights and-wait his new red-headed friend is literally a dead man walking right now.
Toni (not Racetrack, yet) told him that he would probably stop losing if he’d just take a day or two break a week, and at first Albert says hell no
But then Toni talks him into taking a break for a day, and Albert goes back the day after absolutely ready to dominate the ring.
And he does
And that's the first fight Toni takes bets on. And everyone expects Albert to suck and be out of practice
So he rakes in the dough on that fight.
MORE FUN (LESS VIOLENT) THINGS THAT I HAVE WRITTEN DOWN:
Streams games, very popular. Isn’t verified because he doesn’t care enough to go through all the steps to do it.
Has a massive crush on Racetrack Higgins before he meets the stupid fuck, and then he 'meets' him, realizes that it's ANTONIO FUCKING HIGGINS THAT BITCH, and promptly kicks his ass.
Rents a massive house (Like this bitch is literally like 8-10 bedrooms. But they all split the rent, so it's kinda okay) with Finch, Race, Spot, Hotshot, Ike, Blink, Mush, Tommy, Barney, and Specs. There’s a very strict no siblings allowed rule bc sometimes Albert, Race, and Ike just need to get away. There are exceptions, but it’s only if they’re told beforehand, and given at least 3 days’ notice.
Front Page Story: Gaming streamer. King of FPS games (hence the acronym of his name). He’s been featured in several gaming magazines, and some out of the community. Is almost always invited to things like VidCon.
The guy is popular. He's small and cute, but quick to anger, and his fans eat that shit up. They don't ask why he's always ready for a fight. They don't ask where the scars on his body came from. They're honestly too scared to.
But, on the other hand, he's very personable when people actually meet him in person. He's not as angry and he doesn't yell as much (it's more unsettling than any of them expect)
Like his fans literally adore him, and they can and will fight for him
Albert is reintroduced to Racer after he and Spot are already together, and it kind of makes his stomach churn because he's had a crush on this boy since they were literally children. And here comes this guy, unliked by Race's oldest brother, somehow more violent than Albert himself, and he's got Racer.
And then, Albert meets him.
Fucker's charismatic, and he kinda has a nice smile, but he too is unattainable.
Until he's not.
Race and Spot come to him, explaining that they both may or may not kind of be head over heels for this dumbass. He's taken aback at first, can see the discomfort in Race's expression as he tries to explain it (though what he doesn't know is that discomfort comes from his younger years of being raised strictly Catholic).
When he agrees to a date, he thinks he might melt, because he's never seen either of them smile that wide. Those two are absolutely beaming at him.
And he thinks that, maybe this won't be so bad.
#this is all I have for now#am I setting an unattainable precedent putting a twitter post in here?#yes#will I be taking it out?#no#newsies#livesies#92sies#albert dasilva#newsies modern au#newsies incorrect quotes#raggedy albert
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brainthoughts about Barney calhoun
God. imagine. living through something only eleven people lived through. the fucking Resonance Cascade right? and now imagine living through the seven hour war. something everyone was fucked up with. double trauma! you were just a normal fucking guy and all of a sudden everything around you falls apart and you're suddenly thrust into protecting a handful of scientists and yourself. you're a protector, a security guard, that's what you do. protect people.
and the only way to protect people is to go undercover, to hurt the same exact people you try and protect for the greater good. and sometimes you wonder, sitting there. alone at night. "Why aren't I the one who's dead?" why didn't you die, why did God deem you worthy to live through horrors that people a million times more talented shouldve lived through. (Gordon, your depressed mind supplies. your friend, a colleague, a best friend maybe. even more depending on the interpretation) and yet you're alive, you. useless. barney Calhoun.
no matter how much you try. the people you hurt still echo in your brain, their screams and begs for mercy. and yet you grin and bare it because you're helping the resistance, helping fight against your fascist alien dictators by… helping them. you're undercover.
and finally. finally your friend, Gordon is back and yet— he's barely aged. he hasn't seen the horrors you have. you've just barely moved on from his death, and depending on the interpretation, barely moved on from the love you felt for the guy. maybe it was One-sided or it was a real, genuine, connection. either way, he's back, and your life has fallen apart again.
and yet you grin and bear it because you're Barney Calhoun and everyone relies on you.
can you even love Gordon after that? can you be a friend or a lover? could you be the person he expected you to be when you're no one but a monster, someone who's tortured and killed thousands of innocents and for what?! the "greater good", pathetic really.
you can't love. you can't form attachments. your job as civil protection says you can't, what if they get hurt?! having attachments are a liability to being undercover. (You start to care. care for alyx, care for Gordon, you care and you can't do that. you don't deserve their time or love, since you're a bad person and they're good).
yet again. they save the world. and you sit there, a side character, watching as everyone around you are paraded as good. maybe you are too. but the deep, ugly, gross part of you says you aren't good. aren't a hero. your good doesn't outweigh the bad.
and yet. you grin and bear it because you are Barney Calhoun, born and made to serve and protect — even if you're doing the opposite of that.
#barney calhoun#half life#freehoun#angst#cw:#survivors guilt#ptsd#depression#suicide ideation if you squint#better safe than sorry
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𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦❜𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕥 -- 𝕕𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝟚 𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟
!! TRIGGER WARNING !!
blood and gore
strong language
violence
suggestive themes
!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!
:: author's note :: god, i love this game so much. i've only just gotten to central, so sorry for having so few characters -- but if you want more of the guys from old villedor (vincenzo, klaus, hermann, carlos, etc) please let me know!
:: DYING LIGHT 2 GIRLS EDITION COMING SOON ::
If a Renegade hurt you – how would your boyfriend react?
𝒉𝒂𝒌𝒐𝒏
Hakon’s not really the kind to fight, but if he caught the Renegade in the act of hurting you, he’d see red.
He’ll take advantage of his innate stealthiness and sneak up behind him – you may not even notice him, being a bit distracted fighting for your life
He won’t even reach for his own weapon – he’ll grab the nearest thing in reach and bash the Renegade over the back of the head until he slumps over (unconscious? Dead? Who knows? Who cares?)
He’ll drag you to your feet, whispering “We gotta go, Y/N – who knows when the rest of them will show up.”
He won’t even try to carry you. It’s a waste of precious time, especially since he can’t really roof-run with you in his arms. Bit hard to grab gutters and pipes when his arms are full of you.
He will run slowly – carefully – picking the safest and easiest options. He won’t leave you behind like the others. You’re different. You’re special. You’re not like his four wives.
When he gets you home (to his place – yours isn’t safe), he’ll tuck you carefully into bed and fuck off for a while. You feel abandoned, alone, resigned to die in a bed that’s not even yours, and drift away into the blissful warmth of unconsciousness.
When you wake up again a few hours later, it’s night, and Hakon is treating your wounds with chamomile and honey, stitching any cuts with a trembling but oh-so-careful hand.
“Hold still,” he scolds, gently pushing you back down. “He’s not getting you.”
There’s a special kind of comfort in knowing that Hakon, sneaky slippery Hakon loyal only to himself, is putting his entire existence at risk to protect you.
You drift off again, feeling safe for the first time since your arrival in Villedor.
𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚
Barney. Snarky, aggressive, anger-issues Barney.
He tears the Renegade off of you and throws him to the ground.
You don’t recognize the corpse when he finally pulls back, splattered in so much blood that you barely recognize him either.
He doesn’t even wipe the blood off his hands before they’re cupping your face, turning your head this way and that.
Your ears are ringing, you hardly hear his questions, but you answer what you can.
“Should’ve fucking been here,” he snarls as he tears his radio from his belt. He calls for Hermann and a few others to give him backup. “Should’ve known this was fucking coming. Should’ve locked your ass up. Goddamn Pilgrim. You ain’t a one man fucking army, dumbass.”
He and Hermann fight over who gets to carry you – in the end, you choose Hermann. He’s larger, stronger, able to block more blows.
You have to calm Barney down with your logical explanation – “plus,” you add with a pained smirk, “leaves you open to beat the shit out of any Renegades that follow us. You really wanna leave that fun to Hermann?”
He grins back at you, relieved that you can still joke, the dead man’s blood smeared across his teeth. “Fuckin’ A, Y/N. You read me like a book. Let’s get my girl back to the Bazaar – then, we’re gonna wipe the Renegades off the fucking planet.”
𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓
The deaths of his wife and children weighed heavily on his mind for so long. The guilt tore him to pieces. His duty kept him from mourning them, from fucking burying them. He didn’t even know if there were corpses to bury, or if they were shambling about Central with the thousands of other nameless faceless ghouls.
He never expected that a Pilgrim, of all people, would help him find closure.
Being the commander of the PKs of Old Villedor, he isn’t there when you get the shit kicked out of you. You manage to escape on your own – you’re a Pilgrim, you’re thrifty.
You’re not upset that he couldn’t help you. You understand. He has more things to worry about than you.
He, however, is devastated. Furious. He stares at your resting body as you lay in the metro station infirmary, a medic checking your vitals every fifteen minutes.
Horror. Fury. Gut-wrenching guilt.
He’s finally found someone that makes him feel loved again, and he’s failed you. Just like he failed his wife and kids.
Is he going to lose you like he lost them?
But you pull through, of course. You’re a Pilgrim – you’re made of tougher stuff.
When the raw overwhelming power of relief releases him, he turns his fury to his soldiers.
With strict orders and threats of worse punishments than he’s ever doled out before, they wipe out entire Renegade camps and drag in any survivors to parade them in front of you.
It takes weeks, but you finally ID the one who fucked you up.
Aitor pulls you from the room so you don’t have to watch it – but you can still hear his gurgling screams as his soldiers take revenge for what happened to you.
While you wait for him to be brought in (and for quite some time after), he spoils you rotten. Jewelry, fresher food than you’ve eaten since you got here, first choice of any spoils that come in from their looting runs.
And of course you sleep in his bed. It’s the most comfortable bed in the metro station – and it’s the perfect place for him to keep you safe, even in his sleep.
𝒅𝒐𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒓
You and Dodger used to butt heads a lot – you didn’t approve of the way he scammed innocent people to make himself wealthy, and he thought you were a naive, innocent little bird that white-knighted for anyone that offered you a vaguely sad story.
Both of you are right, and neither of you are willing to admit it.
His men are the ones that find you and the Renegade in the fight for your life.
At first, they just watch, not realizing who the intruder is fighting. Some of them make bets on who will win and how the loser will die.
Then one of them catches a glimpse of your face, and their hearts drop into their frayed shoes.
After a brief argument about their odds and Dodger’s temper, they leap into action. Two of them pull you away from the Renegade, since Dodger will literally kill them if anything happens to you – but you take a large gash to the side as the Renegade desperately stabs at you.
He goes down quick. Dodger’s boys are, surprisingly, competent fighters when they’re not up against a Pilgrim.
The two that grabbed you are already carrying you back to the Bazaar, despite your protests that you’re fine and you can get yourself there. Even these dimwits can see that you’re not fine, actually, and you need to get taken home as fast as they can.
They can’t roofrun, unfortunately, so their way is long and winding through alleys and dark buildings too small to have more than a few infected in them. It takes a few hours to get you home – by then, you’re unconscious, definite proof that you’re not fine.
Dodger listens to their tale with only half an ear, only enough to pick up the details he needs. The Renegades have fucked with his property, his beloved.
They have no idea the hell they have invited upon themselves.
You have no idea what he’s doing – Dodger is a bit…dodgy after all*
But he seems a lot more attentive to you, and specifically you
His Bazaar obligations can wait. You need him here and now.
When he finds the man who fucked with you, he brings him into your shared room and sprawls out on the bed beside you, pulling you into his lap and arms.
“Shh,” he soothes, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead. “This the man who fucked with you?”
You nod, resting your head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. You already know what’s coming. You can’t prevent yourself from hearing what’s about to happen, but if you need to, you can hide your eyes.
You need to hide your eyes immediately. Dodger brings in his most ruthless assistant, his right hand man, Klaus.
After but a minute, you beg Dodger to stop. He orders the man removed and “dealt with.”
When you’ve healed enough that you can actually win the argument with Dodger about being allowed outside the safety of the Bazaar’s walls again, you see the body hanging from a makeshift noose outside the door.
The only recognizable part is his broken mask, the mask you broke in the fight, and the scar you left on his body.
𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒛
You still don’t know why Waltz picked you. Of all the people in the city, he picked you.
You don’t know if that arouses you or terrifies you.
It doesn’t take him long to find out what his man did to you. His crew is so afraid of him that they’re all spies amongst themselves, willing to rat each other out to buy even a moment of his favor.
Unfortunately, the traitor (for he is a traitor now, having willingly attacked his master’s favorite) isn’t done with you.
He tries to sneak into your quarters, maskless, bold as you please.
Renegades are great liars after all, even to each other.
He tries to smother your face with a pillow as you bask in the comforting warmth of the UV light above you, too drowsy to even realize he’s there until the room goes dark and the air you breathe becomes rather…feathery.
He almost succeeds. He would have, if a sudden attack didn’t launch him across the room and snap his spine over a metal bedframe.
You wink in and out of consciousness as the crazed attacker rips your would-be-murderer to shreds with his bare hands, screaming like a crazed volatile into the night.
Not for the first time do you find yourself afraid in your waking moments. You’ve never seen Waltz in his crazed form – will he recognize you? Is this how you’re meant to die, at the claws of your lover rather than the comforting pillow cutting off your air as you lay half-asleep?
But the monster creeps toward you, oh-so-gently caressing your face so he doesn’t cut you with his razor-sharp claws.
“Shh,” the silhouette rasps in the darkness. “I’ll protect you. I’ll kill any motherfucker who dares show his face in here again.”
You drift off again, this time to sleep, as he slips from the room and slaughters the men who were guarding your room, the ones that failed you.
The traitors.
*I’ll see myself out
#dying light 2#dying light 2 stay human#dying light 2 imagines#imagine your ship#x reader#gender neutral reader#reader insert#my imagines
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VIDEO VOLUME WARNING
...
I Honestly Don't Know How To Start This Off, But This Is Basically Elaborating How Arden And Barley Met.
Some Context Before We Begin.
Barley Is The Human Daughter Of Barney Calhoun. After The Events Of HL2 EP2, She's Forced To Become A "Gman." She's Currently Being Trained By The G-Man, But Her New "Job" Makes Her Immortal And She's Given The Power To Move Across Realities. Other Than That, She Can't Do Much Else.
Arden Is Alien And The Brother Of Benrey. It's Been Confirmed By @pistachi0art's That He's A Criminal And Has Been In Alien Confinement. Barley Meets Arden When He's In Confinement And This Is Before She Ends Up Meeting Gordos And Benrey.
Anyways, Onto How They Met.
When Barley Was Chosen To Become A "Gman", It Was Mandatory For Her To Have The Ability To Have The Power To Cross Realities. The G-Man Advised Her To Not Use Until She Was Confident In Her Ability. Obviously, She Didn't Listen. So Because She Had No Clue What She Was Doing, She Ends Up Somewhere Completely Random.
Once She's There, She Realises She Doesn't Know How To Do It Again. She Tries Not To Panic And Tries Thinking Of Ways To Get Herself Out Of This Predicament Before The G-Man Or Basically Anyone Finds Out That She's Gotten Herself Stuck. She Hears A Voice Behind Her, Turning Around She Sees That She's Not Alone Here. There In Front Of Her Was Arden.
While She Continues To Try And Get Out, He Begins To Talk To Her, But It Was A One Sided Conversation As She Felt Really Uncomfortable Around Him. Plus, Every Time She Asked For Help Or Tried Inquire About Where She Was, He Would Ignore Him And Keep On Going About Himself. Eventually She Asked What He Even Was, That Seemed To Be The Only Thing He Seemed To Interested In That Came From Her So He Introduces Himself. That's When Barley Gets His Name But After That He Kept Droning On About Himself More.
It Felt She Was Stuck Here For Hours, Possibly Longer. Eventually, Her Pure Frustration At The Situation Manage To Give Her Enough Power, Which Opened An Opportunity To Teleport Back To Her Original Reality. She Had Enough Of Being Around Arden, So She Instantly Gave Him A Goodbye Before Leaving, Never Expecting To See Him Again.
But It Turns Out She Slipped Up And After She Returned To Her Universe, She Had Left A Rip In The Alien Confinement Arden Was Being Kept It. He Manipulated It Enough To Use It As A Portal To Go Back To His Universe.
When She Finally Can Control Her Universe Hopping Ability, Meets Benrey And Gordos, And Finds Out Who Arden Really Was, The Interaction She Had With Him Made More Sense, Grateful That He Was In Confinement.
But It's Not Over Yet.
G-Man Eventually Talks To Her About Leaving Rips In Realities, Making Sure She Hasn't Left Any Behind. When Barley Asks How They Happen And G-Man Explains That Usually Happen When Someone Is Under Experienced And Don't Know How To Close The Rips. Barley Tells Him That It's All Fine And That She Make Sure She Leaves No Rips Since He Has Been Teaching And Advising Her, Until She Thinks Back To When She Met Arden.
She Tells G-Man That She Has To Check Something Quickly And Teleports Herself To The Where Arden Was In Confinement. Seeing He's Not There, Barley Realised She Has Fucked Up, Possibly Putting Her Friends And Family In Danger. From Then On Forward, She Feels As It's Her Responsibility To Stop Arden.
Wow, That's A LOT Of Words.
Anyways, I Hope This Is Good Explanation On How Barley And Arden Do End Up Meeting.
ARDEN IS @pistachi0art's ORIGINAL CHARACTER.
Barley Belongs To Me. :3
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