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wayfayrr · 2 months

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My love mine all mine

Continuation of I bet on losing dogs

It's my birthday so that means I get to treat myself by writing a continuation of my Roman Empire fic <3

It's a reverse Isekai but this time it's post the event that caused him to isekai, and he's got a bit more to deal with now - but he'll be fine because he's by your side, and he won't let anything change that there is so much lore going into this fic, so there might be more to come in this saga yet :3c

[masterlist]

I’m still here?

No - no I’m not in Hyrule now, something feels different enough that I know that. If I was still in Hyrule then that ‘sky’ would be here if I wasn’t hallucinating him. Besides that though, something feels different, I’m not in as much pain although everything feels heavier. Almost - no don’t get your hopes up yet link.

Moving still takes a painful amount of effort, like my wounds are still there but now everything suddenly weighs triple on top of those. It was the shift from feeling floaty and detached to suddenly being forced back into a body, one that doesn’t feel like my own, that makes everything feel so undeniably real. Now it’s just a matter of opening my eyes to see what’s actually happened to me.

The room I’m in looks so similar to [name’s] when we ended up here one time chasing the shadow, from what I can see lying down like this anyway. Don’t get your hopes up until you see them link. There’s a blanket over me too, the very same that they lent to me the first time I was here; the feeling of it over me makes it the fact that I can’t barely move somewhat more bearable as I let out a low groan. Which seemed to almost summon the person who’s probably responsible for taking me in.

“[Na]-”

“link what the FUCK did you do?”

Wait, what do they me-

“how the HELL do I have memories of you being my best friend growing up now - I know I met you for the first time in hyrule. you aren't supposed to exist as a person here and yet.”

“[name] I don't -”

“I have the most vivid memory of everything. including having to pick you and sky up passed out on the street because apparently the two of you decided to go out on a bender or something - I don't know but I can remember it somehow.”

That rant seems to have cooled them off for now, not that they're mad just concerned… not that I'm not also. Those memories they mentioned too, I know what they're talking about; it's trippy. I have two sets of my life, one that I know is true and this other one that feels like a learned lie. A cover up. It feels similar to a backstory I learned to lie during espionage, but it's information about [name’s] world. Memories of a whole life lived here, like it's preparing me… or trying to adjust something new being forced into it that shouldn't be here.

“I don't - I think it's cause… I. You said sky is here too?”

“Yeah, he's the reason I'm so certain these memories aren't real, he only got included when I found him when I went out to buy supplies for you. Something feels off about all of this, and I think you two have the answers I need.”

Did sky..? No he wouldn't have. Would he?

“I think so too.”

“Can you tell me what you think it was?”

My voice is dead in my throat, I can't tell them what I did. They'll lose any respect they had for me won't they? I don't even know for certain if sky did the same… but I could have sworn he was there when I - I…He wouldn't have done that to himself, surely not. Even though I could've said the same for myself before everything.

“I… would prefer not to, if that's alright.”

“Okay link, I won't push you. Either way, it's nice to be back at your side even if it's slightly different than what I'm used to.”

That's all it takes to finally break my guard and for the tears to start flowing. I can finally rest, there isn’t any expectation of me here, no pressure to be the picture-perfect hero, no nothing. I can just exist here with my lover for the rest of our lives.

“Can you tell me why everything feels so different now though?”

“Link, haven’t you been able to tell? You aren’t a Hylian anymore. Whatever you did, you’re a human now and you've got a whole recorded history here on earth. You and sky both. Speaking of him, he’s downstairs helping himself to stuff; been awake a lot longer than you have, should probably go check on him really. You feeling alright enough to come with me?”

Moving my limbs still feels different but now it isn’t impossible to move them and seeing the smile on [name’s] face from me just sitting up to move is more than worth the slight discomfort. Falling into their open arms is just another perk of it, being helped to my feet whilst being allowed to cling to them? It’s a dream come true. But despite this there’s something that doesn’t feel right, why is sky here… I’ll have to ask him myself.

“S- why are you drinking all of my milk straight from the bottle sky?”

“...Wanna get drunk.”

“It's milk. You’re never going to get drunk off of drinking milk.”

With the two of them distracted by each other, [name] still letting me cling to their arm thankfully, I get a proper look at him. It’s sky, it’s really sky, but he’s human. All of his scars are the same asides from a new one on his neck and a few burns on his hands ones that look like they come from holding a sword. Fi must have tried to stop him. The strangest thing is seeing him with short rounded ears though - I can’t imagine what I look like to him. This has to be the first time I’ve seen him trying so desperately to get drunk though, he saw you do it. He’s drinking to forget, like you have so many times in the past.

“What do you mean of course I will. Why do you think milk bars were so popular in hyrule?”

“But you aren’t hylian now sky. You’re a human now, and we don’t get drunk from milk.”

“You - we… don’t? Ah. Well. That explains a lot of things then.”

“Did everyone think that I was an addict? Oh my, that explains the ‘interventions’ each of you had with me. Even my boyfriends thought I was an alcoholic.”

The sigh they let out before resting their head against me could make me an addict, as ironic as that is. Although that does bring up the question of how everything is going to be so different now, we’re going to have to relearn a lot of what we’ve always known as fact. But it’ll be by [name’s] side. And I’ll do anything to keep it this way.

#I'm another year older now <3 #and holy shit I've been writing lu for nearly a year #WOW #anyway #yan wars my beloved #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere link #lu warriors x reader #lu sky x reader #moss✦writes

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makeste · 5 months

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BnHA Chapter 408: Orphaned Cryptid to Billionaire Supervillain

Previously on BnHA: HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi decides he’s going to cover the rest of the AFO/OFA saga in the span of just seven pages, the majority of which are mostly just filled with lovingly detailed closeups of AFO and Kudou’s eyes. Back in the present day, Kid For One takes a couple of seconds to trample the last of the “Kacchan is OFA II or is related to OFA II” theories into the dust, and is then all “fuck it, I’ll just take him out with one last spectacularly grotesque supermove.” Kacchan is all “lol you fucking dipshit”, and he says it with such confidence that it truly makes me believe he can defeat AFO’s “ALL THE QUIRKS EVER!!” attack with his piddly little exploding bloodsweat quirk. AND IT WILL BE A SIGHT TO SEE.

interesting!

Yoichi’s name btw is written with the kanji 与 which means “bestow” or “give”, and 一 which means “one.” so basically “one who gives”, which is fitting as the creator of OFA, but also fits in with this new context of being the first “possession” bestowed upon AFO

oh yes and also AFO I guess has just torn his brother to shreds or something too. idk. I’m going to be honest with you guys, this panel has such a surreal vibe that I just sat here blinking stupidly at it and wasn’t even shocked or anything. like what. is he dreaming this?? or did he really just make a “STOP! IN THE NAAAAME OF LOVE” gesture and in doing so remove half of his brother’s jaw

ewww

idk what’s wrong with me today guys. AFO just disintegrated Yoichi, and Kudou and and OFA Tres (who apparently still doesn’t have a name???? freaking Kudou got named before you??) are literally RIGHT THERE and presumably horrified, and all I can think about is how fucking gross it is that they’re all hanging out in a fucking sewer

oh shit y’all it’s about to go down

he can’t kill Kudou right off the bat can he? does Kudou even know he has OFA yet? are we going to see him transfer it to OFA III? I’m so fucking excited omg

LOL WHAT

“weirdly matte” omg. so apparently he’s like All Might, where the “he’s just drawn differently” thing is something people actually acknowledge in-story. “yeah he actually has no pupils. that’s a real thing. technically that should mean he can’t see since pupils are what let light into your eyes, but don’t worry about that part. just know that his eyes canonically look weird to the story people as well, and everyone is creeped out by it, not just you”

yeah he’s actually blind

so he literally can’t see outside himself. way to lay those metaphors on thick, Horikoshi

(ETA: this is my “just in case my impeccably dry wit doesn’t translate well across the internet” ETA to assure everyone I know he’s not actually blind lol.)

now we’re cutting to some random city where AFO is broodingly staring at Yoichi’s severed hand because he’s perfected the art of always doing incredibly unsettling things

I cannot believe the fucking hands thing has an actual origin story. of course it does. this man has never done a single hinged thing in his life. it’s all unhinged or bust. am I talking about AFO or Horikoshi? YOU DECIDE

he’s sitting at a table with a bottle of wine holding his dead brother’s embalmed severed limb and thinking about fucking quirk shit

so your transformation from Orphaned Cryptid to Billionaire Supervillain happened almost completely offscreen huh. I’m kinda disappointed, ngl. I could have read a few more chapters about that. maybe a spinoff miniseries

WAIT WHAT

are you serious. we finally get a panel that’s INCREDIBLY RELEVANT to pretty much ALL OF MY BNHA THEORIES, only for that same panel to contradict itself ONE SPEECH BUBBLE LATER?? so what is the truth???

omg omg omg

so many fucking questions, omg. what the hell does “through research” even mean. how did he confirm Yoichi’s quirklessness, and why did he later change his mind? how the fuck can Yoichi have a quirk factor and yet not have an actual quirk. “it was just so weak it didn’t count or something I guess” okay??? how much of this is unreliable narrator vs. the word of god? how is it we’re getting so many answers and yet all I have is more fucking questions you guys

BRUE?CE?CEE??!

bruce

Kudou is so goddamned hot. I hope you washed the hell out of that arm wound after getting it all covered in sewage you stupid sexy man

I can’t get over Three’s name. “idk if anyone noticed, but it’s kind of a subtle homage to another very famous superhero” Horikoshi your nap wasn’t long enough, please go home

also love how Bruce is talking shit about OFA being a puny loser quirk for wimps. how the fuck do they even know what’s going on, anyway? was there a tutorial???

oh you just had a feeling huh??? that it was “something like this”, huh??? how is it that I, who knows all about OFA because I’m from the future and have read 408 chapters of this nonsense, am somehow still less in the know than this handsome clown who doesn’t know shit but just “had a feeling”

(ETA: while editing this post I noted that Bruce is sitting in front of a computer in what seems to be some sort of medical lab, so maybe they ran some tests or something? except that only makes me more confused, because it implies they didn’t actually figure out OFA’s workings via convenient plot instincts. so then how the fuck did they figure out the transfer process?? questions)

meanwhile AFO is sitting in the panel next to him whining about how someone stole Yoichi’s quirk. excuse you. he did not steal it. it was in fact a gift

these flashbacks are all jumbled up and it’s unexpectedly fun to read, but also really chaotic

I guess he’s talking to Kudou on the right and AFO on the left

so many intense closeups of eyes in this chapter oh my goodness

Horikoshi even drew the individual goddamn eyelashes. this looks like the margins of someone’s notebook from when they were really bored in middle school

oh my god the information overload!!!

so much for AFO actually feeling emotions lol. or is he just lying to himself about why he cried. that delicious ambiguity

so we don’t even get a flashback explaining how the transfer actually happened?? to either Kudou OR my beloved Bruce?? goddamn you Horikoshi. omg I would seriously kill for more of this. make a movie about it. I want the OFA origin story prequel movie damn it

I like how AFO just sits there on a throne holding court with a single tiki torch beside him for aesthetic reasons

I can’t quite figure out how he killed Banjou and I’m not sure I really want to know. it looks very violent

friendly reminder that Shinomori is Sir Not Appearing In This Flashback because he’s the only OFA user who died of natural causes! good for you Shinomori. En probably wishes he was more like you

poor En

was Nana just taking a stroll or something one day and stumbled across this epic fight with the evilest man on the planet vs some kid in a trenchcoat, and then the poor kid got bisected and he looked at her and he was all “please eat my hair” and she was just like “ok”?

OH WOW

what a transition omg

LOLLLLLLLL

you know, part of me always wondered how All Might was so certain he’d killed AFO that he apparently never bothered to confirm it. but looking at this panel now, I can understand

fjjfdzjgf

he’s sweating so much. like “okay yeah he punched the top of his face off, this is pretty bad but I’LL DO MY BEST”

BACK TO THE PRESENT DAY AWW SHUCKS

so let’s recap. over on Kacchan’s side we have “GOTTA USE THE PAIN TO WIN!!!” haha ouch. and then over here on KFO’s side we have. whatever the fuck we just experienced over these past two chapters. so basically it’s a battle between the two most deranged characters in the entire series. glorious sweet chaos

DSFJKSLDKGJL he’s now trying to figure out how the fuck they look so much alike and whether they’re actually related

“no, that can’t be it. so then maybe... this kid grows up and then somehow travels back in time...?!” HE’S JUST LIKE US FR

so now he’s saying it’s because Kacchan didn’t have character development yet the last time, but now that he does his eyes are all Full Of Determination just like Kudou’s and so we’ve basically come full circle!

transcended WHAT? :O :D :D omg I’m kidding you guys please don’t hurt me

lol

actually the more we learn about Kudou the less I personally see the resemblance now lol. because Kudou seems so calm and collected, but Kacchan is just... [gestures to literally everything about Kacchan]

so AFO’s trying to strategize, but he can’t warp Kacchan away because the only available targets are too close and he’s still got that SUPERSPEED, BOYO so it wouldn’t make a difference. lol but if you kept doing it repeatedly it might be kind of funny though

and he can’t keep fighting him either because he’s getting his ass whooped and it’s speeding up his de-aging or whatever. well you could just give up then I guess. your call, AFO

oh was that your plan?

spoiler alert for me lol. but it’s not exactly shocking or anything since he’s dying, guess he wants to abandon ship

(ETA: just FYI for anyone reading this who’s not familiar with my dumbassery, I have currently only read chapters 1 through 374 at this point in time, before skipping ahead to 403 because Kacchan came back and I lost all willpower. I am working on catching up with the rest!)

oh so now you did come up with a strategy?

lmao what the FUCK

how much of this is going to be clearer to me once I finish the chapters that I missed, and how much of it is just plain old “nope this is all brand new zero-context BnHA bullshit” lol. this looks like every single quirk AFO ever absorbed combined into one gigantic horrifying blob that forced Horikoshi to take an extra week just to draw it

oh my god!?

Kacchan hovering there bravely facing all this is giving me Gandalf “you shall not pass” vibes and I’m LIVING FOR IT

so either AFO is going to kill Kacchan for the second time right here and now, or he’s going to fail and turn back into a squishy evil baby fdslfjkls

love how All Might is all “DODGE IT YOUNG BAKUGOU!” thanks for the warning, champ. doing his part

more exploding bloodsweat closeups. are these just going to be a mainstay of Kacchan fights from now on

“are you stupid?”, when faced with [gestures to the entirety of the previous page], is possibly the best line ever uttered by anyone in the series. even better than the polite “coming through” uttered only seconds before it

ah man. you love to see it. he literally doesn’t even care. HE ALREADY DIED ONCE TODAY, AND IT CLUED HIM IN TO THE FACT THAT HE’S A MAIN CHARACTER AND ACTUALLY IMMUNE TO DEATH. sorry AFO it’s curtains for you. CURTAINS

#bnha 408 #all for one #bakugou katsuki #ofa the second #kudou (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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yournowheregirl · 1 year

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welp, this one has gotten out of hand (over 3k... yikes) but here we are! part 3 of the secret-dolly-parton-fan eddie munson saga (only 2 more parts after this!)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6 + complete on ao3]

part 3: coat of many colors

Only a few weeks later, Eddie starts to slip up.

Any other day he’d wake up to the sweet, sweet sounds of his favorite Dio album, but one morning he grabs an old Johnny Cash album that Wayne sometimes listens to and puts that one on instead.

It’s nice, and even though it’s apparently recorded at an actual prison, it still feels like home (Eddie tries not to think about that too much).

On a late night when Wayne’s still at work, he fishes his old acoustic guitar from underneath his bed and starts strumming away random chords that sound like the country songs his momma played when he was little. Sometimes he still remembers the lyrics, softly mumbling them even though there’s no one around to hear them.

It’s nice, it doesn’t sound as sweet as when his momma played it for him, but it still feels like home (Eddie actually thinks about it a lot this time).

And it’s not like he’s abandoned his usual music or anything. He still has his Judas Priest tapes in the van because his driving would probably even more reckless if he drove without any music (and isn’t that saying something). And he still loves his sweetheart more than anything, she just has to deal with sharing him for a bit.

Not a lot of many people notice it, at first. Mostly because he still keeps that part of himself hidden, safely tucked away in the comfort of his own bedroom.

But Wayne notices, because of course does.

“Whatcha wearin’ there, son?” Wayne asks, never looking up from where his eyes are glued to the morning newspaper.

Eddie’s halfway out the door already, car keys jingling against his rings when his uncle speaks up, turns around in the doorway. “Uh…”

He looks down at his clothes - what is he wearing anyway? Ripped jeans - all fine, nothing new. White t-shirt - okay, not his usual color but not that strange. Forest green plaid button down and beat-up leather boots that both actually belonged to Wayne at one point - yeah, that must be it.

“Yeah, I mean I know they’re yours… You want them back or somethin’?”

Wayne chuckles and closes the newspaper, leaning back in his chair. “No, no. Not at all. Just surprised you’re wearing it. Ain’t you meetin’ the kids?”

“Uh, yeah?” Eddie frowns. “Should I… not be wearing this?”

“Wear whatever you want.” Wayne shrugs. “It’s just nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah, nice. Nice to see you bein’ comfortable wearing that sorta thing again.” Wayne says. “Lord knows you wouldn’t be caught dead in it years ago.”

Eddie thinks back to when he first came to Hawkins, with an almost empty suitcase and ratty old teddy-bear in his hand. He didn’t have any clothes that were fit for the cold Novembers in Hawkins, more used to the mild Tennessee winters, so Wayne did the best he could and dressed him up in the warmest thing he had on hand at the time. A warm, blue flannel that Eddie’s small frame almost drowned in.

Not that he cared about it at that point. He only cared about how warm and soft it felt.

Which was fine up until the point that the other kids at school started caring about their clothes and how they looked and they started laughing at Eddie’s clothes. Making fun of how poor he was that he couldn’t even afford a decent sized shirt. Teasing him in the locker room about the holes in his socks.

He decided then and there to swear off all the clothes Wayne picked out for him and changed his style up completely. His classmates were gonna bully him anyway, but he’d be damned if they insulted Wayne in the process.

“Well, yeah. Guess I’m goin’ back to my roots.” Eddie shrugs.

“Noticed that as well.” Wayne is smirking now, way too pleased about the whole situation and gestures to his mouth. “Your accent, Ed. Any minute now and you’ll be talkin’ like Miss Parton herself.”

Eddie’s face heats up - if only Wayne knew what he’s been up to in his spare time “Shut up, old man. You’re gonna make me late.”

He drives a little faster than normal to the Wheeler’s house, because Wayne really did keep him a few minutes too long, but he still ends up relatively on time for Mike’s birthday party. Everyone’s already in the decorated basement (balloons and garlands and all) and Mrs. Wheeler is snapping pictures left and right, much to Mike’s obvious dismay.

Mike’s face does light up when Eddie comes stumbling down the basement, present in hand.

“Happy Birthday, mini Wheeler.” Eddie says, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, not fair! We were friends way before you befriended my sister.” Mike sighs.

“Eddie’s just got good taste.” Nancy smirks before turning back to her conversation with Max and El.

“She said it, not me.” Eddie laughs. “Now open your present.”

He’d bought Mike this older copy of a D&D manual. It’s a first edition that Eddie randomly found one day in a thrift store and considering the grin on Mike’s face, Eddie knows he made the right decision.

Behind them on the table there’s a bunch of already-opened presents but one sticks out to Eddie - a beautifully depiction of the Party members, including El and Max, painted onto a notebook.

“Nice notebook.”

“Isn’t it the coolest? Will made it for me.” Mike gushes. “He always knows what kind of present to get me. He’s such a good friend.”

Eddie bites back a laugh. Poor Mike, so tragically oblivious to what’s staring right in front of him, bowl-cut and heart-eyes and all. But since he can’t actually laugh Mike in the face, he just smirks and pats Mike on the shoulder.

“Oh Michael… Bless your tiny lil’ heart.”

Mike just beams at him, once again blissfully unaware of the little back-handed compliment that just escaped Eddie’s Tennessee mouth and runs off again to join the party. Not noticing a thing.

But apparently someone does.

“What was that?” Steve asks from where he’s standing behind Eddie.

“What was what?” Eddie replies automatically. He doesn’t turn around just yet, slightly terrified to find out Steve’s reaction. Not there’s any malice to be heard in his voice, but Eddie’s learned to be careful even when everything seems to be safe.

“That… the whole bless your heart thing.”

“That’s a just saying.” Eddie shrugs.

“But the accent… where did that come from?” Steve stammers.

That comment finally makes Eddie turn around only to find Steve staring at him, jaw slacked and cheeks tickled pink. And well, isn’t that interesting.

Eddie grins as he takes a step closer to Steve, head cocked to the side. “Didn’t you know? I ain’t from around here.” He’s really laying the accent on thick this time, just to see how Steve will react.

It pays off beautifully because Steve just stares at him again, his face turning an even deeper shade of pink that contrast with the tight yellow t-shirt he’s wearing. Eddie’s stomach bubbles with giddiness at the sudden power he’s holding over Steve, making him all flustered like this.

God, he really shouldn’t be flirting with his very-much-straight crush but it just feels so good.

“Where- where are you from then?” Steve clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“Tennessee, baby. Born ’n raised.”

Steve opens his mouth and closes it again, does it a couple of times actually, like he’s a goddamn guppy. It’s, frankly, adorable and Eddie’s never wanted to kiss him more. He lowers his gaze, his hands moving through the air like he’s unsure what to do with that.

“I’m just… I’m just gonna talk to Robin for a sec. Be right back, okay?”

Eddie watches as Steve disappears in between the kids, sees how he frantically talks to Robin before dragging her upstairs, clearly in need some alone time.

Huh. Weird.

-xxx-

Eddie comes clean about his roots to the rest of his friends a couple days later and to his surprise, no one really seems to bat an eye. Sure, there are few laughs here and there but it’s never bad. A couple of questions (mostly from El) about where he grew up and that’s that.

Or so he thinks.

Because he also told Steve, Robin and Nancy about the fact that there’s a country bar just a couple miles from Hawkins and that he’s being going there almost every week just to feel a little at home again. And now, they obviously want to come with.

Eddie’s feeling slightly nervous about it - this is still on a whole other level than just wearing one of Wayne’s flannels and bringing out his drawl every once in a while. This is about who he is, how he was raised, and he’s not really sure how things’ll go down if his friends react weirdly about it.

Pat is surprised to say the least when Eddie strolls into the Off-Road next Wednesday with Robin, Nancy and Steve in tow. Robin swore up and down that they should dress the part even though Eddie told her it wasn’t necessary, but there they are anyway, plaid shirts and all.

It’s slightly embarrassing to be honest, but Robin seems to enjoy making him suffer (well, that was until Nancy took off her plaid shirt and tied it around her waist to show off her tight black dress underneath and Robin almost had an aneurysm. Ha, how’s that for payback?). And besides, Steve’s looking unfairly hot in that light blue flannel so who’s Eddie to complain?

“Well, well, well. Looks like you got some friends after all, Ed.” Pat grins. “Welcome y’all.”

After Eddie introduces everyone, Robin starts talking Pat’s ear off, overjoyed with the fact that she’s finally meeting another queer woman, asking her all kinds of questions about growing up queer and how she met Tish. Eddie smiles, feeling happy for his friend.

On the other side of the bar, Steve and Nancy are hunched over the jukebox, arguing about the next song to play.

“Is that him?” Tish asks as she puts down his beer - Eddie figures he might as well take advantage of the fact that Nancy’s driving tonight. She nods to where Steve is clearly losing the argument with Nancy. The way he’s bending over the jukebox in those tight Levi’s is making his ass look insane and Eddie lets out a strangled sound.

“Yeah, that’s him alright.”

Tish lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Eddie. You’re screwed.”

“Why, geez. Thanks for that boost of confidence, Tish.”

Tish just winks at him and disappears back into the kitchen. Eddie just sits and sulks for a bit, head rocking along to the song that Nancy picked out until Robin suddenly slides into view, eyes filled with mischief that Eddie doesn’t care for one bit.

“So… A little birdie told me you’ve been singing Dolly Parton songs here on the regular.” Robin says in a sing-song voice.

Damn Pat and her blabber mouth.

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “And what about it, Buckley?”

“Nothing! Just wondering if you might wanna play a song for us tonight?” Robin asks. She clasps her hands together and pouts when Eddie rolls his eyes at her. “Please? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“And how exactly do you propose to do that?”

“Well… I can’t really say. Not yet anyway.” Robin smiles awkwardly. “But I promise you’ll be happy about it once it works out. Please?”

Eddie sighs - he’s never really been able to resist someone begging and he’s not gonna start now. He finishes his beer in one swig and makes his way over to the stage, taking the now-familiar acoustic guitar from the wall.

His friends sit down at a table close to the stage, staring at him with eager excitement as Eddie tries to think of a song to play. He feels strangely nervous. They had seen him play before, been to a few of Corroded Coffin gigs and he even sang the Beatles’ Blackbird for Nancy’s birthday but this still feels scarier, more intimate.

And the thing is, he can’t really go with one of the songs he played her before because one wrong look in Steve’s direction and he’d be fucked for life. Or even worse, a love song - that’d make for a real awkward evening. So, he finally settles on a song that’s neither of those, but still a song that’s very close to his heart.

“Back through the years, I go wonderin’ once again. Back to the seasons of my youth…” Eddie sings softly, though his drawl rolls out of him with full force.

He can’t help it, it’s the only way he knows how to sing this song because it’s the way his momma sang it to him every night before going to bed. Tucking him in tightly underneath the duvet, covering his face with kisses until he couldn’t stop giggling. Her voice soft and warm as she sang him to sleep.

“There were rags of many colors, every piece was small. And I didn’t have a coat and it was way down in the fall. Mama sewed the rags together, sewin’ every piece with love. She made my coat of many colors, that I was so proud of.”

He thinks of Wayne. Thinks of the clothes Wayne gave him while growing up. How he wore them to school with pride, excited to have clothes to call his own. To have a home and someone taking care of him, not because Wayne had to but because he wanted to.

“So with patches on my britches and in holes in both my shoes, in my coat of many colors, I hurried off to school. Just to find the others laughing and are making of fun of me, in my coat of many colors my mama made for me.”

Thinks of his classmates laughing at his accent, at the way he dressed, at his amazement of seeing snow for the very first time. Remembers going home to Wayne with tears in his eyes, stuffing his plaid shirts into the deepest corner of his closet and trading it for plain black tees instead. Remembers staying up late when Wayne was at work to practice his speech pattern by watching old tv-shows and repeating the lines.

Looks up at his friends. Realizes how he’s showcasing all those parts he hid away for years and is for once, rewarded for it. They’re listening intently, proud smiles on their faces. Nancy and Robin are leaning against each other, their fingers finding their way to one another.

Glances over at Steve, whose hands are folded underneath his chin as he looks at Eddie with a gentle smile, his eyes soft and almost like honey underneath the warm ceiling lights of the bar. He barely blinks, eyes glued to Eddie and Eddie only. It’s a bit distracting, if Eddie’s being honest. He feels his cheeks heat up and he almost misses a chord at one point, realizing then and there why he didn’t pick a love song in the first place.

He needs to sing, not melt into a puddle of goo underneath Steve’s gaze, goddammit.

“Now I know we had no money, but I was rich as I could be. In my coat of many colors, my mama made for me. Made just for me…”

The song softly fades away and Eddie mumbles a quick thanks into the microphone as his friends and the rest of the the bar burst out into applause. He shuffles over to the table where he’s met with Robin and Nancy beaming at him and pulling him into a tight hug.

“That was so good.” Nancy gushes.

“Yeah, it was amazing! You should switch music genres, if I’m honest.” Robin nods. “Change Corroded Coffin’s name into Corroded Cowboy or something.”

Eddie chuckles. “Not sure if the guys are gonna like that. But thanks, girls. Means a lot.”

Steve stays strangely quiet in between Robin and Nancy’s stream of compliments, just fiddling with the coaster in between his fingers. It’s not until Nancy drags Robin to the dance floor when an upbeat song starts playing and Eddie slides into one of the empty seats they left behind, that Steve speaks up.

“You have a really nice voice, you know that?”

He says it so softly that Eddie can barely hear him over the bluegrass music on the speakers. Still, it’s enough for Eddie’s cheeks to flush pink.

“Thanks.” Eddie replies, ducking his head to prevent Steve from seeing his flushed face.

“Seriously, man.” Steve says. “Think about Robin said. I mean, I love hearing you sing and scream about the world’s injustices with Corroded Coffin as much as the next person but…”

Eddie’s heart starts beating out of his chest because holy fuck, Steve loves hearing him sing, Steve loves hearing him sing, Steve loves hearing him sing.

“But these songs seem to come so natural to you, y’know?” Steve glances up to meet Eddie’s eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “You make it seem so…”

“Easy?” Eddie supplies.

Steve smiles and there’s something in his eyes that Eddie can’t quite decipher. A secret that only Steve seems to know. “Yeah, exactly. Easy.”

Eddie feels the flush on his face deepen underneath Steve’s gaze and he needs a way out before he starts doing something incredibly stupid like drag him to the bathroom just to see what happens when he calls Steve darlin’.

“You want a refill?” Eddie says quickly, gesturing towards the empty beer bottle on the table. “My treat.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, Eddie.”

The sound of his own name rolling off Steve’s tongue almost makes Eddie stumbles as he stands up makes his way towards the bar. Smooth, Munson, real fuckin’ smooth.

“Two beers please.” Eddie tells Pat, drumming his ring-adorned hands on the faded wood of the bar.

“Here ya go.” Pat says, handing him the drinks. Eddie’s about to turn back, when she stops him. “Ed, I don’t mean to mess with your head or anythin’… But are ya sure that boy’s straight?”

Eddie snorts. “What’d you mean? ‘Course he is.”

“Well, I won’t be so sure about that, kiddo.” Pat says with a knowing smile. “I’ve been seein’ the way he looks at you tonight and well… let’s just say it’s the same way I look at Tish every morning I wake up next to her.”

Eddie looks up to where Steve’s chatting with Jack, one of the older regulars who’s an actually banjo player in his spare time. He just watches them for a minute, a soft smile playing around his lips, the one he always gets when he’s looking at Steve.

Steve looks up and their eyes meet, a bright smile appearing on his face as he wiggles his hands in the air to wave at Eddie. He seems so happy and he’s never looked more beautiful.

Christ, Eddie’s so in love with him.

“That. That look right there. No one looks at their platonic friend like that. Not when there are other feelings involved.” Pat says firmly. “You might wanna start re-thinkin’ this whole situation, Ed.” She adds cryptically and returns to where she’s drying off another glass.

A tingly feeling spreads all over Eddie’s body, a shiver running up his spine. It should feel nice, it does feel nice, but at the same time Eddie knows it’s actually the worst feeling in the world.

Hope.

tag list:

@solosnail @gothbat99 @unclewaynemunson @legitcookie @henderdads @goblin-eddie @trikigirl271 @alienace @stevethehairington @blank1eboi @fruitandbubbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @stereoteleversion @wrenisflying @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @punkharringtxn @remislupinisthevoiceofgod @panicatthediaz @thegingervulcan @sharkruption @goodolefashionedloverboi @thelastwalkingsoul @undreamingscatworld @magpiemuseum @mightbeasleep @maya-custodios-dionach @theokatz @this-earlobe-is-naked

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #this one got away from me #i got cursed by munson family feels as i often do #also sorry to everyone i tried to tag but somehow failed to do so??#really dunno what happened there #alice's writing adventures

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thearchercore · 3 months

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After reading your essays about Charles and PR, I have a bit of a rant when it comes to Charles’ image rn, and how (I believe) him and RBR are working together. I mean, it could be very likely considering his and RBR’s posts.

Let’s have a bit of a look at the 3 accounts that are posting Charles almost all the time rn. Ferrari, Charles himself and Red Bull. Ferrari’s posts are 1. Not much, considering he is their driver, and 3. Are either way too polished or just a thirst trap. Considering that Ferrari is his team, they aren’t posting Charles much, since the beginning of the year. And they haven’t changed their tactics, their posts are too polished, too stuffy if you could say, with the inly non-stuffy one being a pic of Charles falling while playing Football and Skiing, and even that doesn’t look authentic or like they’re really pleased about it.

Now, let’s see Charles. Since the beginning of 2024, there has been a shift in Charles’ social media, it isn’t all theist traps, or any of that shit. I mean, yeah he had a few posts that showed his adventurous fun side of his personality, but they were very limited compared to his curated posts, the posts that are what we could consider “safe” and “according to Ferrari’s agenda” kind of. But since ten beginning of the year, there is only one post which falling in this category, which is a post made by his sponsor, APM Monaco, for a shoot. The rest are, charles is drunk, relatable in LA, being goofy while skiing. Almost as if Charles is trying to detach himself from the Ferrari image if that PR robot who only has looks.

Now onto the last side of this, Red Bull. RBR have always been known as fun, spontaneous, almost chaotic. I mean, their slogan is and always have been and always will be Red Bull Gives You Wings. They have been the ones who never restricted their drivers, Max, Checo and Daniel can post whatever they want. But lets be real, I don’t think Max and Checo use their Socials much (with the chance of Max having a private account which we all knew from his twitch saga 😂, but its mire because Max is a private person).

Back to Charles, Red Bull is posting Charles in a way that shows that he’s a beast on track, only him can battle Max, but also in a way that shows the fun aide, the sticker war?? And I believe RBR and Charles are working together in that sense, RBR showing the dynamic between both, as well as highlight the fact that the ones with the most battles with Max that are the most entertaining is Charles, while Charles is detaching himself from that stuffy Ferrari thirst trap-y agenda into the more fun loving, spontaneous person.

And I think they’re doing that in order to prepare for something. Like Charles to RBR announcement when bestie??

yeah, something may be going on behind the scenes! i mentioned charles' rebrand from ferrari-focused posts to more individual approach here and the recent change of posting patterns (ft. posting charles) on the RBR socials here

i got a bit caught by surprise on thursday -- a day where ferrari is known to post contract announcements -- in the morning f1 posted joint post with ferrari about charles' monza win, then posted a pic with charles' monza helmet quote "one team one dream" (which was rumoured to be his OG renewal helmet, renewal got obviously postponed). all posts lead me and my friends to believe that an announcement is imminent and i patiently waited for the charles renewal announcement to drop.

nothing happened.

the same day, however, we got a new article that updated that carlos' negotiations for a new contract aren't working out the way they wanted. apparently ferrari only wants to give carlos a one year long contract, carlos wants a multi-year contract. that once again delayed the contract renewal announcement.

remember that fred mentioned he wanted to have the contracts locked by christmas so they're ready by january.

also seems like carlos' deadline for contract is the testing in bahrain. they want to announce before the testing starts.

there were also rumours that because of that, ferrari is eyeing alex albon as a possible second driver.

again, it's all quite messy and not fully confirmed but just the delayed timeline shows how many complications ferrari may be facing right now.

is red bull part of the game? maybe, maybe not. we can't tell, we can only follow their social pattern and see how they move in the future.

#lestappen gate 2023 #charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 #lestappen gate #2024

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sagasolejma · 9 days

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HOLY SHIT I ACTUALLY MALE-FAILED TODAY AND GOT GENDERED CORRECTLY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE, I WAS LITERALLY CRYING OUT OF HAPPINESS

I SOMEHOW MALE-FAILED WHILE WEARING CARGO PANTS, A JACKET, A TERRIBLE MASCULINE HAIRCUT AND MASCULINE GLASSES. I'M STILL NOT EVEN SURE I BELIEVE IT REALLY HAPPENED, IT HAPPENED SEVEN HOURS AGO AND I STILL HAVE BUTTERFLIES IN MY STOMACH, ITS THE FIRST TIME I'VE EVER BEEN GENDERED CORRECTLY IN MY LIFE.

So yeah I had to return some pants that didn't fit me to a clothing store, and the cashier apparently had some trouble with it so she had to call up two of her co-workers. Now the first cashier probably thought I was male since I spoke to her (I haven't voice trained a lot and even then I just use my natal male voice as I was sure I didn't pass) but when the two other workers came to help I didn't say anything. Suddenly they began to talk and started saying stuff like "does she still have the receipt?" and "did she want to buy these clothes? Ohhhh she wanted to return them"

(for context we don't use sir or ma'am in Denmark so the only way to tell what gender people think you are is if you overhear them talking about you, which basically never happens, so I always assume everyone genders me male, but I guess now I'm not so sure haha)

They said stuff along those lines multiple times always gendering me female, I was glancing back at my friend who was behind me like "HOLY SHIT DID YOU ALSO HEAR THAT??!!?!!" and like honestly I don't think I've ever been as happy in my life as a I was in that moment. I didn't have a lot of doubts about my gender, but the ones I have got obligated cause holy shit it just felt so *right.* It felt so natural. Like this is how I am meant to be referred to. It felt like, for the first time in my life, someone was actually seeing *me.*

It also couldn't have happened at a better time honestly... Just two days ago I was crying my eyes out because I thought I would never, ever be recognised as a woman. Recently my dysphoria and outlook on my future has been extremely bad. I got diagnosed with crippling body dysmorphic disorder a few days ago too. There's been moments where I even thought about giving up on being trans, because I felt like no matter what I did, I probably would never be able to lead the life I want to live. People, both on Reddit and irl, have been telling me for a while now that I look more feminine than I believe myself, but I've always excused it by telling myself they're just being nice to not hurt me, but I guess I can't really excuse or explain what happened today in any other way. Obviously my first thought was that it was just because of the hair, but I don't even have a feminine haircut at all. Silly brain.

Anyways, I'm genuinely sorry if this sounds like a bragpost, I guess I just really wanted to share this. It's such a stupid little thing, but it has just completely changed my outlook on my life and my possibilities. Up until now I haven't even *tried* presenting fem outside of some pics I've posted on Reddit, since I thought it would be foolish to even do so, and I thought I wouldn't be even close to passing anyways even if I did, but if someone can gender me female while I'm presenting completely masculine, then surely there's gotta be some hope for me in the future once I come out and start presenting fem, right? I want to hope so at least.

Thank you for reading this, I love you all <3

-Saga

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local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti · 10 days

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Deconstructing the "Peggy and Molly Friendship" Narrative

Molly the Australian Magpie had been “reunited” with Peggy and the family that stole him as a fledgling and raised him without any wildlife carer license or experience.

Thanks to the Queensland Premier wanting to score some extra points in an election year, he “made it happen.” And legitimised the collective delusion of the public that genuinely thinks that this was a completely okay and reasonable situation. And believed the notion that Molly, a territorial social species of bird that had compromised development and was taken out of his home range, could simply "fly away".

So I went through their Instagram to see how this madness unfolded. It clearly began as a “Peggy” instagram before the stolen fledgling joined in.

These people are so adamant that there were no parents around but I don’t believe it for a second. Molly was a juvenile when he was taken - you always see fledglings around his size and age on the ground foraging for food. Mum and dad are not always around but they are never far away and are critical to a young magpie's developmental period.

They claim that Molly was sick. Yet they never make any mention of taking him to the vet. Molly makes distinctive fledgling feeding calls, the sounds he would have used to beg for food from his parents. It's tragic to see this after seeing how magpies raise their fledglings in my own backyard.

One of their first posts is feeding him what looks to be mealworms next to their pet dog. Aussie Magpie Fledglings at this age are learning everything about how to survive from their parents. They fed Molly WITH their dog. What does that teach? That dogs are not only safe but also a potential source of food/reinforcement.

As Peggy’s Instagram becomes Peggy and Molly’s Instagram, this happens:

Molly gets attacked by other birds. Because guess what? This is a territorial bird who has been removed from his original territory and away from the protection and guidance of his parents.

So, because these people have no idea what they’re doing, they’re Shocked that this would happen and that the wild bird they’re unwittingly conditioning into their pet can’t defend himself.

But yeah I’m sure teaching Molly tug of war with a dog is exactly the survival skills he needs as a wild bird!!!!!!

(I’m losing my goddamn mind)

Another “release attempt” fails because apparently we did a whoopsie and let him fly out in a storm??? Yet again, this poor bird is having traumatic experiences in the wild that he was not prepared for and is, unsurprisingly, seeking humans - which he has now associated heavily with food and safety.

Meanwhile, as they’re “raising” Molly, this insanity happens:

Yeah because that’s why your staffy is spontaneously lactating. She wants to mother a bird. It couldn’t possibly be that she’s had a bird pecking at her nipples and stimulating them or that she might have a serious medical issue. Interestingly, they do take Peggy to the vet. A luxury that doesn’t seem to be afforded to Molly who was also apparently sick (even though he seems to be pretty bright, alert and feeding in all the videos of when he was “rescued”)

Anyway the saga continues with the clear intention of making content now - the socialisation and habituation continues during Molly’s most critical juvenile years. They talk about how Peggy is helping Molly learn how to find food as if they're still intended for him to be a wild bird. But it's clear this bird isn't going anywhere.

At this time, Molly would be learning how to find food, how to socialise with other magpies and he’d eventually be joining a juvenile or bachelor flock where he’d continue to develop his social skills as a social and intelligent bird, wrestling and playing with his flock mates.

But no, he’s learning to mimic barks and is harassing the hell out of this poor staffy. The family just lets it all happen without any sort of support or advocacy for Peggy.

Haha isn't zoonotic disease vectors and a confused bird with no idea of how to interact appropriately with a dog just hilarious? It’s funny because of the silly caption they made, right?

As their "relationship" progresses, Peggy shows more discomfort.

This dog shows multiple stress behaviours. She is not friends with this bird she is TOLERATING this bird as he pecks at her face. She's rarely relaxed in these "play" interactions. She licks her lips, turns her head, yawns and even bares her teeth. But if it has a cute soundtrack behind it, I guess that means they’re having fun, right?

Even the interactions where Peggy's isn't stressed are still uncomfortable to watch. Molly shows immense frustration and confusion, following and wanting to be involved but being ignored or tolerated.

Molly should be with wild birds, playing how they play and not being merely tolerated:

Molly had a chance to be homed with a qualified wildlife rehabber or even get the chance to get to live with other Australian Magpies. But because people fell for the story and the media regurgitated it without questioning it for a second - he'll never get that chance again.

Molly was failed by the Queensland government for not being seized immediately. There were numerous complaints as soon as their story started to become viral that this was sending a bad message to the public and that this bird was not being given the care he needed.

It's too late, now. Molly will live in a confused limbo, not knowing what he's supposed to be and will never get to live with his own species.

And all the people that sent death threats to wildlife carers (who were trying to fix the damage caused) will pat themselves on the back about what a good job they did.

#Molly the Magpie #wildlife rehabilitation #australian magpie #wildlife #birds #canine behaviour #stress behaviour #Peggy and Molly

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melonteee · 4 months

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Tbh i'm not really excited about the remake because i always see everyone talking about how they're disappointed about the new animation and how toei is white-washing the characters so whats the point in remaking the east blue saga with new animation

Yeah I'm also expecting white washing hhh and it's strange cause I ALWAYS see "oh boo I miss the old animation style" but now I'm seeing "finally they can fix the outdated animation" like??? I have no idea what's going on currently but I definitely want to say younger fans just seem to hate 4:3 aspect ratios and a lot of animation before the 2010s.

Ie, if it's not movie quality attack on titan animation, it's apparently shit to a lot of younger audiences...even though there's so much charm in the old one piece style 😭

#ask #melonask

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sillyrabbit81 · 4 months

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Ohhhhh Any and all information on number 1, of course.

And then number 2 and 8, if you don't mind.

I read Sherlock and I was like 'yay'. Then I saw 'shy' and I went 'awwww'. Then I saw 'sex worker' and I almost fainted... So... jdfkjdfksldkfjsf

Okay so I'm going to just go straight under a cut and get into it.

The Brotherhood... Well its a damn saga... There are about 5 titles in my docs with some variation of TFWB Ch 18 because I have rewritten the start so many times. But I think I have finally settled on a beginning, I have an ending of the chapter written... just need to get the smut out but that is a where the real struggle begins.

Here's a sneak peek: (still rough and not completely edited)

Apparently, a handshake wasn’t enough for Sy and he drew Marshall into a tight hug, of which I was in the middle of. I had not expected to be in a Brother sandwich tonight. The idea struck me as both immensely funny and yet arousing. I bit my lip as I turned my head back into Sy’s chest and tried to focus on not laughing and not how fucking amazing it felt to be held by both men. My thoughts went back to the first night I had met the Brothers, to that dingy, cheap motel room and the shower with shitty water pressure. Back to my first sexual feelings about the Brothers. At the time, the thoughts were fantasy, I never actually thought that’s what I would ever want. But now… All too quickly Marshall took a step back. I didn’t like that. I didn’t want that. I reached blindly behind me and found Marshall’s arm, I gripped it tightly and wrapped it around my waist before I snaked a hand around both Brother’s backs. For a moment both Brothers were frozen in place. I wanted so badly to know what they were thinking, but I couldn’t make myself lift my head and meet their eyes. So I just held them tight to me, Sy’s chest against my chest, Marshall’s chest pressed against my back. The silence dragged on, neither moved for what felt like forever, I don’t think either of them took a breath.

Number 2 is an ask from my milestone game from nearly a year ago... I have so many of those to do and I feel terrible about how long its taken me. It's also had a few iterations, and is really only in point form, but its about a woman who Sherlock met on a case and she made him pay her for her time. He keeps coming back to her with more questions and she starts to suspect that he doesn't actually need to know the answers to the questions and that he might to be too shy to admit he'd like to use her services... its not completely fleshed out yet.

Number 8 is basically the old trope of being caught breaking rules and being busted by August and he makes a bargain with you to keep his silence... Its also not very fleshed out on paper, only a few paragraphs and disjointed dialogue, but its a common fantasy in my head 🤣

I don't know if its what you expected, but yeah, thats what I've got.

❤️ Rabbit

#ask sillyrabbit81 #raccooneyedrebel #wip game

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kanerallels · 10 days

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For @monthly-challenge's Spring Fling day 10: field, I decided to write one of my first Wingfeather Saga fan fics!! And I'm also gonna put it on AO3 at some point

Ever since he was a little kid, Esben had loved his family’s yearly trips to the Green Hollows. His grandfather, Ortham Wingfeather, had been born there, as had their advisor, Bonifer Squoon. So the family still had many connections there, and liked to visit for the reunions with friends, the bibes, and of course, the Bannick Durga, the challenge where the Hollowsfolk competed for the title of the Keeper of Ban Rona.

Ortham had competed in it, years and years ago, to win the love of Esben’s grandmother, Madia. It was a good way to win respect with the Hollowsfolk, who were a notoriously close knit and suspicious group.

It was always fun to watch. Esben often thought about competing himself— not that his mother would have let him before. But now that he was sixteen, there was a chance.

Either way, he was glad to be back in the Green Hollows. He had a lot of friends there, and he’d missed them. And the best way to reunite with those friends was with a good game of tackleball.

He and Artham plunged into the fray right away, and in no time at all they were wrestling with friends they hadn’t seen in months, acting like it had been no time at all. Esben was in the middle of yanking the ball away from his friend Joller and making a break for it when he saw her.

A slight, slender girl— no, young woman, standing at the far side of the field. She was around his age, with dark hair caught back with a bright blue ribbon. A few strands had come loose around her face, framing her elegant features. She was dressed as simply as any of the other girls who’d walked past, but there was something more about her. A gentleness, a singular beauty that shone through the smile she sent his way—

Whump! Esben felt the breath driven out of his lungs as his friend Hawley slammed into him, the ball flying into the air. As he crashed to the ground, there was a stampede towards the ball and away from Esben, who lay in the grass, gasping for air.

“You alright?” Artham appeared above him, concern clear in his bi-colored eyes. Though his brother’s appearance was just as disheveled— grass stains on his clothes and dirt on his face— Esben had a feeling the crowd of giggling girls watching them from a distance didn’t mind. At eighteen, his brother had caught the eye of most girls on the Shining Isle, and apparently the same was true here in Ban Rona.

As Artham helped him up, Esben couldn’t help but notice, with a flicker of relief, that there was no sign of the girl he’d spotted earlier among the group watching Artham. His brother, however, wasn’t paying a lick of attention to the girls. Instead, he was frowning at Esben, waiting for him to answer his question.

“Oh— yeah, I’m okay,” Esben said hastily, brushing dirt off his hands and trying to look around discreetly. The young woman he’d seen had turned and was talking to one of her friends, and Esben wondered if she’d seen him get tackled.

“Is that Nia Helmer?” Artham’s voice pulled him out of his daze— his brother had followed his gaze to the young woman.

“Yeah,” Esben said, unable to tear his eyes away. “She’s… grown up a little since we last saw her.”

“Ohhhhhh.”

Artham’s knowing voice caught Esben’s attention, and he turned to see his brother grinning knowingly. “I was wondering what was distracting you. So you do still have a crush on her.”

“What are you talking about?” Esben said, feeling his face flush bright. “I don’t have a crush on anyone. I mean, I had a crush on her when I was like, twelve, but that was almost five years ago.”

“Uh-huh,” Artham said, still grinning. “And you’ve both grown up a lot since then. She’s a beautiful young woman, don’t you think?”

Esben should have protested, he really should have. But he thought about the smile, already imprinted in his memory, and her dark hair tied with that blue ribbon, and a sigh escaped his lips. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “She is.”

“I knew it,” Artham said smugly. “You should go talk to her.”

Esben almost laughed. “Are you crazy? That’s a terrible idea!”

“Why? We’ve been friends with the Helmers for a long time. We’ve known Nia since you were ten. Talking to her can’t be that hard. Besides,” Artham added, “I’ll come and be your wingman.”

“No way. The Hollish people don’t like outsiders courting their daughters,” Esben reminded him.

“You’re just talking— finding out if she likes you back,” Artham pointed out. “No one said anything about courting yet.”

“I guess… but I’m not sure I want you as my wingman. What if she likes you better than me?”

Artham rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t like her— not like that, anyways. And I’ll talk you up. Wing is literally part of my name, remember?”

“Wha— it’s part of mine, too, and that’s really stupid reasoning.”

“Agree to disagree. Come on, let’s go talk to her. I have an idea.”

Before Esben could protest, which he definitely intended to do, Artham started across the field, to where Nia was watching the tackleball game. Esben hurried after his brother, shooting another look at Nia. “This is a bad idea,” he hissed at Artham.

“You’re gonna be the High King, Es. You can’t hide from a girl you like.”

“Sure I can, it’s easy!”

Artham didn’t laugh like Esben was hoping. Instead, he gave him a serious look. “Come on. You’ve been crazy about her for five years. Why don’t you try to have a conversation where you don’t fill her shoes with mud or tease her about something, like you used to?”

“Like WE used to, I think you mean,” Esben huffed. “It’s not like I was the only one.” But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like… Artham was maybe right.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if this goes badly, I��m blaming you.”

“That’s what the Throne Warden is for,” Artham said with a grin.

And then they were across the field and next to Nia, and Esben’s heart was pounding. Like she’d heard it— or maybe just heard them approaching— Nia turned to face them. A startled look flashed across her face. “Oh. Hello, Es— Your Highness.”

“Esben,” he said immediately. “Er. Call me Esben, that is.”

She smiled a little. “Esben. It’s good to see you again. Has your trip to the Hollows been pleasant so far?”

Her eyes were a deep, dark brown, like the freshly turned earth of a garden, and Esben couldn’t tear his gaze away. Framed by long lashes and sparkling with warmth, they were alluring. Heartstoppingly gorgeous.

He was also pretty sure she’d asked him something, but he had no idea what.

“Our trip has been excellent,” Artham said, and Esben jumped. He’d almost forgotten his brother was standing at his shoulder. Grinning a little, he said, “We’ve been looking forward to seeing your family— Esben especially.”

Nia’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “You— you were?”

Uh-oh. Don’t mess this up. Luckily, Artham wasn’t exaggerating. “Yeah— I mean, yes,” Esben said. “I, uh, I always look forward to it. To seeing you.”

Maybe a little clumsy, but Nia’s smile made it worth it. “I’m glad,” she said quietly. She held his gaze for a minute, then seemed to come to her senses. “Are you… not going to play more tackleball?”

Resisting the urge to throw a glance at Artham, Esben said, “Actually, we thought we’d sit with you and watch. If that’s alright with you?”

“I’d love that,” Nia told him, and Artham gave him a discreet nod of approval.

They settled on the grass together, Artham sitting just a little bit aways from the two of them. Esben was nervous at first— but Nia wasn’t hard to talk to. They’d known each other for years, after all, and knew a lot about each other. So they talked about the Guild Nia was in, and her work in the marketplace, and she asked about Esben’s art. He’d even, a little shyly, shown her a few drawings from his sketchbook— his father’s crown, the view from the highest tower of Castle Rysen, a boat skating across the sea in front of the Shining Isle.

“These are beautiful,” Nia told him sincerely, studying the last sketch. “I can’t imagine being able to do this.”

Shrugging modestly, Esben said, “It’s just practice— a lot of practice.” Accepting his sketchbook back, he added, “Besides, I’m not good at words, like Artham is.”

“I think you’re just fine at it,” Nia told him, giving him a smile that made his heart flutter.

The time sped by, and before Esben knew it, Artham was poking him. “Hey. We need to get going, or we’ll be late for dinner. And you know Mama’s probably already worrying.”

Glancing up, Esben felt a jolt of shock go through him. The sun had shifted positions drastically— they couldn’t have been sitting there for less than an hour, maybe two. Jumping to his feet, he glanced at Nia. “Sorry, we should—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him, getting up as well. “I should get back, too— oh! There’s my papa.”

She waved, and Esben turned to see Podo Helmer heading towards them. The older man frowned slightly when he saw Esben and Artham standing next to his daughter, but as he got closer, his eyebrows shot up. “Wingfeather boys— Maker bless us, I barely recognized the two of you. You’ve certainly shot up since we last saw ye.”

“Yes, sir,” Esben said, straightening up a little. He’d always found Podo to be fairly kind, but tough, and protective of his daughter. Also, there were a lot of rumors that he used to be a pirate. Which was really, really cool. But also a little nerve-wracking when one had a crush on his daughter.

Shoving his nervousness out of his head, he looked at Nia. “We should get going, but… see you again? Soon?”

The smile she gave him washed away any semblance of fear. “Yes.”

“Come on, Esben,” Artham said, tugging his arm and giving Podo a respectful nod. As they walked away, he said quietly, “Nice job. I told you I was a good wingman.”

“You barely did anything,” Esben grumbled halfheartedly.

“Exactly,” Artham said with great satisfaction. But Esben barely heard him. Instead, he heard Podo Helmer, talking to his daughter as they walked away.

“Those two boys have grown up into nice young men. That Esben certainly couldn’t take his eyes off of you, could he?”

“Papa!” Nia sounded flustered, but maybe a little… flattered? Hope sprang up in Esben’s chest. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

The rest of their time in the Green Hollows was full of dinners and events and all kinds of craziness. Esben competed in the Bannick Durga, and while he was flattened pretty early on, it was worth it to have Nia be one of the people who helped him off the field.

Eventually, they had to sail for home, and Esben couldn’t help but feel a pang at leaving Nia behind. They’d spent time together almost every day, and the Wingfeathers had had dinner at the Helmers twice. He hated to leave, even if it was to return home.

So the last time he saw Nia, he gave her a folded piece of paper, torn from his sketchbook. Inside was a drawing of her— one of many that he’d done over the past few days— and a note.

I’m not as good at words as Artham, but I’d like to give it a shot— would you let me write to you?

When Nia read it, her smile was brighter than the Shining Isle itself. And the kiss she left on his cheek, that Esben still felt hours later, answered his question pretty clearly.

#the wingfeather saga #esben wingfeather #artham wingfeather #nia wingfeather #this is set before the series obviously #writing stories is a kind of magic too #springfling2024 #monthly challenge

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the-hidden-writer · 15 days

Text

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 10

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga gains information from an unexpected source. Words: 2,449 AO3 Link: [Here!] [First part] [Previous part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 10: Balance

Saga throws herself out of her Mind Place and sits up, turning her head and looking around frantically. Her sudden movement startles Jaakko, who visibly jumps, his arm hitting the edge of the well and knocking Kesä’s shoe back into the shaft.

“Did you say something?” Saga asks.

Jaakko looks at her, confused. “No?”

“Are you sure? I heard someone say something.”

Jaakko shrugs. “I didn’t hear anything. Might have been a dream, you looked like you were sleeping.”

Maybe she’d imagined it. Hesitantly, Saga leans back onto the well again and closes her eyes to re-enter the Mind Place.

“Oh hey, it’s back.”

Saga’s heart starts to race. That wasn’t her imagination. That’s a voice speaking. Muffled, but definitely present. The sound doesn’t quite reach her ears, similar to when she’s trying to find the voices and perspective of others when profiling them. Except right now she isn’t trying to profile anyone.

Another knock. This time, Saga is certain it’s coming from the door within her Mind Place.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

That’s someone talking inside her mind. An unfamiliar voice talking inside her mind. Extremely wary, Saga approaches the closed door that’s only ever been there for decoration to complete her version of a familiar space. She tries to open it. It’s locked.

So she crouches by its side and knocks back.

“Who are you? How are you talking to me?” She asserts mentally.

“You’re the one that showed up out of nowhere, madam Locked-Door. Also, I asked first.”

Saga has never experienced anything like this before in her Mind Place. She’s certain she’s never heard this voice before, lending more reasoning that it isn’t just a figment of her imagination. It carries a heavy nonchalance that unnerves her. Her currently highly-stressed subconscious wouldn’t be able to create such a relaxed tone.

She cautiously decides to play along.

“I’m an FBI agent. Who are you?”

She has to play it safe. She can’t risk giving out personal information and finding herself written into another story, let alone her loved ones getting dragged deeper in.

There’s no response from the other side. The pause is long enough for Saga to doubt the entire encounter, when the owner of the voice finally speaks up again, more assertive themself.

“Oh shit, FBI? I am so glad to hear that… you must be looking for your colleague.”

Saga’s body tenses. There are two possible options here. She tries the safe bet first.

“Robert Nightingale?”

“Huh?”

She doesn’t want to suggest it. She doesn’t want to suggest it in case she’s right.

“Alex Casey?”

“Yeah, him!”

Shit. She was right.

“I’m not looking for him. He’s with the FBC, he’s safe. Who are you?”

“Wait- are you saying he’s there? Oh fuck…”

The nonchalance is briefly replaced with panic. Saga is left beyond confused.

“Hey, listen to me. That guy that’s up there with you? That’s not your guy. Your guy’s here with me.”

What?

“What are you talking about? Casey’s with the Federal Bureau of Control. Where are you? Who are you?”

Another pause, long enough for Saga to start to doubt. Long enough for her to try to find a way to deny that Casey is missing, because acknowledging it would make the possible danger he could be in terrifyingly real.

“I’m Alan Wake.”

Saga doesn't miss a beat.

“You don't sound like Alan Wake.”

The stranger, apparently Wake, doesn't miss one either. A choked noise that sounds mostly like a scoff comes from the other side of the door.

“What, you’ve met me? That must be another version. The Dark Place allows for that sort of thing. Besides, does the guy-you-think-is-your-guy sound like your agent friend?”

A valid point. “No…”

“Let me guess, he goes by ‘Aleksi Kesä’.”

Saga’s breath catches in her throat. He just outright acknowledged Kesä’s existence- the first person to do so. The first person who seems to have any idea about what’s going on. Despite the different voice and subtle lilt of an accent, could this really be Alan Wake? Another version still trapped, like she's been seeing in the Overlaps?

The version that did write-in Kesä and write-out Jaakko?

She can't jump to conclusions. As far as she can tell, this is all in her head. She has to learn more while treading cautiously.

“How do you know? Are you in the Dark Place right now?”

“Yup.”

A thought occurs to her. “Are you in the well?”

“...Yes and no.”

“What do you know about Kesä?”

“Oh man, where to start? Aleksi Kesä is the devil in disguise. A doppelgänger made of pure darkness, taking the form of an innocent man- well, FBI agent. He should be confined to the Dark Place, he belongs there, but it sounds like he managed to escape and dragged the real deal down in his place. Problem is that he wants reality to accept him, and he has the power to alter things to get his way, whatever the cost. He’s extremely dangerous.”

Saga tries to process what she's being told. Kesä, the man she’d risked her life to rescue and who’d cared for her in return, with evil intentions?

Not to mention the very idea of Casey having an evil doppelgänger is absurd. Wake and Scratch is one thing. Is this Wake implying that Kesä is to Casey what Scratch is to Wake?

Or is he implying that Kesä is Scratch?

Sure, she’d been wary of Kesä, but the idea of him being ‘made of pure darkness’ is taking it to the extremes…

“So you're saying that the real Alex Casey is in the Dark Place right now?”

“That's right.”

It makes partial sense. Though some parts don't add up, such as Kesä's seemingly non-evil personality and the unknown role of the Koskelas in the story, it's the only explanation she's been given and therefore she can't help but cling to it.

Even so, she takes everything said with a grain of salt.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Does the name ‘Anderson’ mean anything to you?”

Saga freezes. Tries to convince herself she didn’t say anything, that he can’t read her innermost thoughts, that her private life is safe-

“Clearly means something to this guy. One of the only consistent words between his berserk babbling.”

Her heart sinks.

“Let me talk to him.” she demands.

“Would if I could. He's breaking down big time. I gotta say, I’m getting worried. The more he loses his mind, it means Aleksi Kesä’s grip on reality is getting stronger.”

Saga listens in trepidation and does her best to not imagine Casey falling apart, trapped in the hellscape the other Wake had described. Alan Wake had been trapped there for thirteen whole years. She can’t bear the thought of her friend going through the same nightmare that a week ago she’d claim couldn’t exist. And now Casey’s there too, all because of… Kesä? A doppelgänger? Scratch?

“You have to stop him before it's too late!”

“How do I get Casey out of there?”

“There might be a way. Then again, it might already be too late…”

“If there’s even a chance of it working, tell me.”

“Fine. Use Aleksi. He’s the key. There’s a ritual- the cult will know. They-”

“The ritual with the heart?”

“Yeah, how did..? Uh, if you perform the ritual and throw the heart into the well, you should get your guy back. Balance is important in the Dark Place, the two sides are like a set of scales. Force one in, it’ll force one out.”

What Wake is implying sounds uncomfortably like murder, though the words make the most sense so far. He knew that Aleksi came from the well. The well had been linked to the Overlap. Maybe some remnant from that is what’s letting her talk to Wake in the Dark Place now?

He claimed that Casey’s calling for her, for Anderson. The stranger Wake couldn’t have pulled her name out of thin air. Wake (the one out of the lake) also said that Kesä and Casey might be different. Maybe he knew more than he had let on.

“If you’re going to attempt this, you have to hurry. The longer Kesä stays on the surface, the more he spreads roots of himself there. It’ll reach a point where it’ll be too strong even for the ritual.”

Saga doesn’t know what to make of it. After spending so long in the dark, trying to piece all these mismatched clues together, she suddenly feels like she’s being bombarded with information and instructions that she doesn’t know whether to trust. She doesn’t trust Wake, but once again he’s the only person who seems to have any idea about what’s happening, and the only person who has any idea of how to make things right.

Only now there’s a ticking clock for Casey’s life as well as Logan’s.

“What’s in it for you? If you’re stuck, don’t you want to escape too?”

“You said I’m up there right now, right? That means some part of me makes it out of here. I can live with that. I don’t know about this guy, though. He’s uh… not doing so good.”

The mental image of Casey suffering returns. Saga makes her decision.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

She’d already handled one heart ritual, what’s another for a greater cause? If Kesä isn’t Casey, if he’s just another figment of the Dark Place, it wouldn’t be murder. It’s just a necessary step in getting Casey and Kesä back where they belong.

Right?

“Good, good. Just remember: the heart goes into the well and you have to say the right words- the cult knows. You’d better hurry, we’re already running out of time to save him. But you can do it.”

Saga nods. Even though Wake on the other side can’t see it, she nods. Another ritual. A gory ritual, but she has to save Casey. The first Wake didn’t know about Kesä, this one does. She follows logic in deciding who to trust.

“And you promise it’ll bring Casey back?”

“If it works, I promise they’ll both be back where they belong. Now look, as much as I’d love to stand by this door all day, I’ve got an agent to look after.”

“Take care of him.” Saga says without thinking. “Tell him I’m coming for him. I’ll save him.”

“You got it.”

“And Wake?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah?”

“If you’re still writing there, leave innocent people out of it. Their lives are not yours to use.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Saga tensely waits for a few minutes for any further comment from behind the door. When there aren’t any, she slowly slumps down against it, assuming the same position as she physically takes next to the well.

What was that? Alan managing to telepathically communicate with her from the Dark Place?

She has no idea how it could have happened. Stranger still, it sounded like he didn’t know, either.

She suddenly feels light-headed. A haze overcomes her Mind Place. Colors fade, pieces of furniture blend together, the mounted deer head looms.

She thinks of Wake. A different version, a different voice. Trying to escape the Dark Place, but also somehow in the Huotari Well? She’d never put Wake down as a bad person. A selfish, unsympathetic person, yes, but not cruel. Just desperate. This version hadn’t sounded desperate, had even had a hint of levity to his muffled voice. He’d also sacrificed his own chance at escape to help Casey.

She wants to profile him but she can’t quite grasp his mindset, as if the door between them created a barrier that blocked her from his thoughts, too. It’s frustrating.

She thinks of Kesä. A different version, a different voice. Escaped the Dark Place by confining Casey in his place. While she couldn’t understand what he was saying, she knew for a fact that he felt lost and afraid. Maybe the real world is too overwhelming for a being that had been created within the Dark Place?

Saga stops that train of thought. She has to deal with facts only. It’s a delicate case and she can’t muddy the truth with her own speculation when lives are at stake.

She thinks of Casey. Her partner, her friend, trapped. Why did he have to go and joke about this being his last case? She already knows that she’s willing to risk a hell of a lot to save him. The ritual on Kesä is definitely a big risk. Would turning him into a Taken really force him back to the Dark Place?

Briefly, she wonders if Casey would approve of this plan, and comes to the conclusion that he wouldn’t. Except Saga knows that both she and Casey are very aware that Saga is the one with more to lose. What Casey refuses to understand is that he’s a big part of that.

She’ll have to attempt the ritual. She doesn’t know how yet, but it’s the only option she has. Wake said the cult would have more information, right? Jaakko Koskela, a perfect well of information (pun, for once, unintended) is right there.

She drags herself out of the Mind Place and back into reality. A deep sigh escapes her lips, her breath condensing in the cold of the night. This hadn’t been what she was expecting by coming here, but she’s glad she did. She feels a lot more knowledgable about the situation than she'd been before.

Slowly, she turns her head to talk to the cultist, calling out. “Jaakko?”

Only she’s faced with a pair of legs hanging over the far side of the well.

Saga jumps to her feet. “Jaakko!”

She rushes around the base and quickly grabs onto a leg with each arm. Luckily, he hasn’t fallen fully, balancing over the edge of the well by his midsection. When she starts to pull, she realizes in terror that there is a force much stronger than her, much stronger than gravity, pulling him down. The bucket he’d attached himself to is nowhere to be seen in the nothingness below.

She hears a quiet, despairing chant echoing in the shaft.

“Mercy. Mercy dear brother, don’t kill me. I’m dying. Mercy, dear brother. Mercy-”

Saga pulls. She grits her teeth and pulls and pulls and groans with exertion and pulls and pulls and tries to anchor her feet into the ground to pull even harder. She pulls despite the strain on her weakened arm. She pulls until she can’t pull any longer, her body forcing her to let go before she greatly damages herself.

“No!”

The legs join the torso and all Saga can do is watch as he descends into darkness.

Thanks for reading!

This fic is going on hiatus for a few weeks while I have exams. Hope you're enjoying it so far ^-^

#alan wake 2 #alan wake 2 spoilers #fanfic #saga anderson #jaakko koskela #alan wake #alex casey #aleksi kesä #thomas zane #yötön yö #a piece of true fiction

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