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captain-mj · 8 months

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I’m on my hands and knees BEGGING you for a stripper au 🙇🙇🙇🙇

Of course!! I've been dying to make one of these!!

Soap should not be here. He's a college professor for fuck's sake. He makes decent money but it's the principle of the things. Why would he go to a strip club when he could go to the bar and actually go home with someone?

But it was what his friends had invited him to do and he went along with it.

He tried not to overthink his clothing or the chances of him seeing any of his students there.

Soap ordered a scotch and tried to find somewhere to sit. It was a mixed club with men and women. It seemed... a little seedy despite the more expensive feeling of the place. Something about the entire thing felt off. He brushed off his feelings, blaming Catholic judgement for it.

Chuy had amassed a group of men and women around him to listen to his cryptid facts. He occasionally passed them money so they were making something but they were also choosing to stay next to him.

Gaz was staring at Chuy, trying to understand how he managed to do that.

Alejandro had disappeared... somewhere.

Soap took a sip of his drink, liking it at least. He doubted it was anything too fancy but it did the job just fine.

Pretty people went past him. Some flirted or tried to get him to take a lap dance, but he wasn't interested. They were nice, but not really his type. Nor did he want to blow a bunch of money just for the sake of it.

Soap found a place to sit where he could watch the stage, trying to see where everyone had disappeared to.

There was someone his type. Tall. Dressed in black. Broad shoulders and burly chest. Makeup all around his eyes. Pretty eyeliner.

The man, Ghost if his name tag meant anything, looked more like a bouncer than a stripper. But he was shirtless with just a mask and tight pants and he was eyeing Soap.

Big doe brown eyes staring into him, silently asking if he wanted his attention.

Soap was very happy there was an ATM nearby. With a confidence that was very much faked, he motioned for him to come over.

Ghost walked over. He didn't bat his eyelashes or immediately straddle him. He just stood between Soap's legs and looked down at him, almost like he inconvenienced him.

Soap put a twenty in Ghost's pocket and that look melted away, replaced with something much nicer.

"You look lonely."

Fucking Brits. Of course he was British. That didn't change that Soap's body had a visceral reaction to his voice.

"It's cause I am. Come to give me some company?"

Ghost laughed at him. It made Soap shrink back and his cheeks flushed. If anything though, it made him a little harder in his jeans. "You're cute. Name?"

Soap looked down his body, admiring the hard muscle and the slightly softer stomach. His hands fidgeted. "Soap."

"You can touch. And my name is Ghost."

Soap was immediately all over him. He'd like to use his mouth but that would be a little much in such a public area.

It would occur to him in exactly six hours that one of the biggest rules about strip clubs is you don't touch the dancer. And that Ghost had not let anyone else touch him that night. That would be in six hours though and right now, he was just marveling at the scarring along Ghost's body.

They were impossible to see with the club lighting, but he could feel them under his fingertips. The texture similar to a scar he had on his hand from dropping a knife.

He squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Ghost's sides. Ghost's hand grabbed his chin and made him look up. Dark eyes inches from his face.

"You alright, love?"

Soap shoved more money into Ghost's hands. "How much for a private dance?"

"I don't usually do those."

Soap must've looked distressed because Ghost, the saint, took pity on him. "Fine. How much do you have?"

"Three hundred dollars."

"I'll give you an hour."

Soap nodded and followed him excitedly. He didn't miss Ghost's amused glance.

The man grabbed the pole, slowly spinning around it as he watched Soap sit down. "You're adorable."

Soap blushed more and dropped his money at Ghost's feet. "Going to lose the mask?"

"You don't want me to. Trust me." Ghost jumped up and spun faster, suspending himself and expose his chest more.

"You ugly under there?"

"Quite the opposite."

"Worried I'll fall in love with you?"

"Absolutely." Ghost spun around slowly and arched his back. "Can't have you following me home, vying for me attention."

Soap felt himself getting hard. His body moved with such fluidity and grace that it was hard to not think of how it would feel to be underneath him. To have Ghost grabbing his hips. Would he prefer to be on top or bottom? He was more than happy either way. As long as those fucking abs were pressed against him, he could live with it.

Ghost crossed over to him and straddled him. He was so much bigger. So much fucking bigger. "Your hands go below my belt and I'll get you banned."

"Yes, sir."

"I like sir."

"Anything you want, sir." Soap smiled at him and put his hands on Ghost's waist. He ground down on him, the pressure against his body making him half crazy. His hips jerked up and Ghost paused, glaring.

"Don't move."

Soap took a deep breath and nodded. Ghost started to move again, letting Soap get a good look on him. It was so easy to imagine less clothing. God, he'd bankrupt himself to have Ghost riding him like this. His pants had slid down to see his v-line.

Soap slid his hands further up and touched his throat. Ghost purred and pressed in harder. "You're a pretty guy, you know that?"

Soap blushed more. "Thank you, sir."

Ghost stood up and trailed his hands between Soap's thighs, so tempting. Was he actually going to?? To touch?? him?? He was hoping for a lot here but his hands were getting so close.

Gaz knocked quickly. "Hey, Johnny, we gotta go. Right now. We're getting kicked out. Alejandro flirted a little too much with his favorite stripper."

Soap felt his heart sink. "Wai-"

Ghost stood up and fixed his pants. "Oh. You're Vargas's friend?"

Soap cringed. "Ah. Is that a bad thing?"

"Get out."

Soap moped the entire night, being extra mean to Alejandro for ruining that for him.

"I think I just missed the love of my life."

"He was a stripper. He just wanted your money." Chuy pointed out. He was currently washing the phone numbers off his arm. All of them were glaring at him.

Soap went to bed and maybe cried a little. Just a little. He refused to be that heartbroken over a guy he met for five minutes. His dick was heartbroken though.

Fucking Vargas.

He couldn't blame him too much. It was Rodolfo he had been flirting with. Those two had been chasing each other for ages and now Alejandro just blew as much money on him as he could until he ran out and Rodolfo kicked him out for it.

Soap crawled out of bed that day and went to work. He passed all of his colleagues, still thinking of those dark eyes and gorgeous body.

"Professor MacTavish." One of his colleagues greeted him as he passed.

Soap froze and turned around. Dark eyes. Gorgeous body. Ginger hair.

Professor Riley, someone Soap barely interacted with, stood there. Cardigan wrapped around him. He wore a medical mask thanks to self proclaimed "hideous" scarring.

"Hi..."

Ghost looked at him. "Yes, MacTavish?"

"I..."

Ghost tilted his head, looking confused. "Something wrong?"

Soap shook his head. "No..."

Ghost nodded and turned away to keep making his tea.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost

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starberry-cupcake · 2 months

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I have made up from last time that was about only one chapter, this time we have 5 in a row. We finished act one, fam!

previously, in harrowbean the ninth:

this happened

I want to also thank you for all your nice comments and replies, I read every single one, I promise ♥

ch. 7 to 11 summarized terribly, here we go:

it's time to cross the river

difficult task to perform

as someone who lives literally surrounded by rivers, in every direction, I can relate

my rivers don't carry ghouls though, as far as I know

I mean, there are ghost and cryptid legends, but not ghouls that stick to the windshield of a spaceship like bugs

like these ones do

so harrow and yandere twin aren't doing fantastic

yandere twin loses it in like the first 2 seconds

harrow sees the ghosts of all the ninth kids who died for her to be alive

there's water also, but that part sounds very relaxing, actually

getting covered by water but not needing to breath

I'd be there forever tbh

but we can't, because ghoulies

mercygirl is still doing sound effects like kronk

btw we're changing her name to mercygirl because it's what I've been calling her now

I have been told by a number of you that mercygirl is your camilla so I apologize for disrespecting your blorbina

I might do it again, if the situation arises, though

mercygirl is piloting the ship and emperor the fool is just chillin' until he realizes harrow is walking about and doing theorems, which they didn't think she'd be in a state to do, so they didn't tell her not to do it

these people half-assing plans, who would have thought

mercygirl calls the emperor john

emperor johnnyboy tries telling harrow to come back from her state because she's in too deep and it's becoming dangerous

mercygirl stars talking about the death of cassiopeia (another name that's easy to remember)

says cassiopeia had a ceramics collection, which makes her worthy of all my respect

harrow was thinking "five", idk what it's about

next thing we know, we're back to our gideonless retelling of gideon

in this version, teacher explains things

he says the house was inhabited previously by "ten normal human beings of the Resurrection, though half were blessed already with necromantic gifts"

I'm tired of MATH

he says they left blueprints, he tells them about the Sleeper, he tells them how not to awaken it, he tells them about the trap door, he tells them what's under the trap door, he asks them to work together...

you know what this is like

it's like reading gideon was entering a new game and skipping every tutorial they give you

and reading this is like clicking every NPC's info and reading all that they say

ANYWAY, here is where ortus 1...

wait, this is going to be confusing

I want to call ortus from the ninth "ortus 1" and the new guy "ortus 2"

because ninth ortus was the first to show up

but new ortus is actually older and also is ortus the first

we're gonna go with ortus and lyctor!ortus, for now

so, as I was saying, this is were ortus starts becoming much more insistent in these "flashbacks" about him not being the right choice

which, he's not wrong

we know he's not wrong

and harrow is saying stuff like "unless you can summon matthias nonius" (matthias nonius is becoming a recurrent thing, let's remember harrow compared gideon to him at one point)

and ortus goes "I don't understand why you chose me" to which harrow says "there was nobody else" and ortus exasperatedly says "you never did posses an imagination"

VERY IMPORTANT THING

a skeleton turns around when they're walking and says "is this how it happens?"

we'll come back to that shortly

REMEMBER IT

(I know you all remember it, you've read this already, just act like I'm dora the explorer and play along)

next chapter starts in not!dulcinea's funeral

I'm sad I used the oliver queen grave meme already, I can't use it again to express my feelings

I'm gonna use the steel magnolias scene where they laugh at the funeral instead

so, we are introduced to the famous augustine who's name I will remember

there's some conversation about first and second generations and about not!dulcinea being chosen, and Emperor Johnny Bravo says "we were all there to meet her, all sixteen of us"

MORE MATH

I guess she was the last one of these, but maybe we knew that already, I feel we knew that already

apparently, not!dulcinea was the most reluctant to slurp her cavalier, but that didn't stop any of them, not even her, so

Emperor Johnny Quest says "for god's sake" and harrow thinks "the god who became a man and yet still invoked himself, apparently"

when she's right, she's right

that's better commentary than I could make

I have to respect augustine a little bit because he asked "which one of the kiddies did her in?" and I thought that was hilarious

he is called the saint of patience, which makes my previous comment about them being named via sarcasm very correct

it's like captain planet or the power rangers but chosen as funnily as possible

they start summoning lyctor!ortus by saying that he's interested in "you-know-what", which is both suspicious and childish and the vibes of these lyctors are all over the place

augustine thinks something's wrong, which is an understatement at this point, but ok

lyctor!ortus comes in as if summoned by the gossip and harrow calls him "the next terrible part of your life" which is saying something

lyctor!ortus comes with news of the seventh beast or whatnot that's trailing them

harrow bleeds from her ears and smashes her head on the next available surface to pass out

the mood

who could blame her

this lyctor job is terrible

it's like the end of drop dead gorgeous and harrow is kristen dunst

I'm not explaining that, in case you haven't watched a classic

we are back to the "flashbacks" and we've got a special appearance from the fifth

*studio audience claps and cheers*

they say they prefer to look into books than going downstairs, which is something one would consider if one had known what the fuck was downstairs from the start

abigail also does sound effects like mercygirl, it's catching on

abigail finds a piece of a recipe note that mentions an M and a Nigella

still no G&P

we know nigella is the cav of cassiopeia, the ceramics collector

I remember nigella's name because of the cook, which makes it funnier that it's a recipe

M could be mercygirl

abigail also gives harrow a note

abigail says that she'd like to summon the ghost of a lyctor but she's not sure how that could work or where they go when they die

ortus, magnus and abigail, in this gideonless version, are a polycule

I am convinced of that

while they're talking, magnus says "is this really how it happens?"

REMEMBER I SAID WE'D BRING THAT BACK

IT'S BACK

abigail starts telling harrow that she's got the energy of a lot of dead kids in her and harrow storms out

harrow gets angry when ortus calmly agrees about things and she doesn't want to look into why

I WONDER WHY THAT IS

harrow looks at abby's note again and now there's text on it

it's a longer version of the note she found before

it's a rant

it mentions dead eggs, implantation, some guy being sent after the OP, said guy taking pity on OP

OP is mad about all of this and doesn't use punctuation

what ortus reads isn't what harrow reads, once again

NOW THIS BIT

"ortus, I need a cavalier with a backbone" "You always did and I am glad, I think, that I never became that cavalier"

the gideon points keep adding up

harrow then goes to sleep and is like this

final thing in act I, in chapter 11, is harrowbean stabbing not!dulcinea again, which

always make sure, it's like resident evil in here

just in case, let's stab her a bunch of times

so, are these "flashbacks" happening in real time whenever harrow isn't conscious?

is it her trying to remember what actually happened?

or is it her trying to hide it?

was there actually a longer period of time between the defeat of not!dulcinea and the emperor Jon Arbuckle coming to pick them up?

a period of time in which harrow learned things that made her write those letters?

and in which something happened regarding gideon?

is the note of the implantation also related?

why was gideon born in space?

of course I'm not asking you, please don't spoil anything, I'm just asking the void of desperation and chaos right now

we'll see if any of this gets answered soon or if I just get more questions

also, guess who wasn't mentioned

see you on the next one!! I'll try to get back to the awesome replies I've been getting soon ♥

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #long post #gif cw

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e-spexially · 8 months

Text

twenty dollar bet

minors dni

pairing: adam stanheight x gn!reader

summary: you wake up trapped in a bathroom with someone, not remembering how you got there or who he is. but he remembers you.

cw: bullying, language, mentions of death, angst

note: this is my first time writing for saw and you can tell, just don't say anything-

requested by: @raven-the-cryptid

Adam watched as your chest rose and fell steadily.

He'd been watching you since he woke up, which felt like hours ago. When he'd pulled himself from the dirty bathtub filled with questionable water, he gasped for air and screamed for help that never came. His lungs were on fire as he coughed violently, all the while never waking you from your dormant state. He tried calling out to you, but there was no response.

Now all he could do was watch.

At first, he wasn't sure you were even alive. Perhaps you were just as dead as the man in the middle of the room. When you did start stirring gently, it made his face hot with excitement, hope even. Maybe you had the answers he desperately needed and could tell him just what the fuck was going on.

"Hey!" He called. "Hey, wake up!"

Your head unconsciously turned towards him before you ceased the movement. Upon seeing your face, Adam's hopeful expression fell into one of confusion, then realization.

He recognized you.

You had changed a bit, but it was you, he was sure of it. Your hair was shorter than it had been before, shadows had formed beneath your eyes with the passage of time. Still, he couldn't help but be enamored. This pissed him off to no end. After everything, after all this time you still had a way of pulling him in.

Adam hadn't even realized until he had seen you that he was still angry. This pissed him off even more. He'd spent the last years of high school convincing himself that they were just a blip and that he wouldn't let you win. But you did win, because here he was still thinking about all the things you had done to him. Even while chained to a pipe in the world's dirtiest bathroom, he couldn't force his mind to stop being so upset at you.

You stirred once more, making his blood run cold. He never did confront you for everything or tell you how he felt. After so long, he wondered if he still had it in him. Did it even matter, given the circumstances?

Yes, he thought, yes it did. If he was going to die in here, then he would die with the closure he deserved. He clenched his jaw and readied himself as you let out a low grumble.

Your eyes shot open.

Bright light flooded your vision and filled your eyes with a sharp sensation, making you hiss in pain.

As you tried to take a deep breath, you were met with a foul odor. The stench of mold and mildew was strong, along with something more sour.

Your sore eyes watered from how bad it smelled, a gag lingering in the back of your throat. Sensation on your skin came next, and you realized you were laying on something hard and cold. Jagged pieces poked your skin at uncomfortable angles through the two layers you had on.

Soon your pupils adjusted to the light and began to make out shapes. You quickly sat up and felt around the floor, panting hard in fear as you felt something heavy keeping you in one area. Your fingers wrapped around the cold chain and you pulled at it with all your strength, which wasn't much.

"Help! Someone me!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, the sound bouncing off the walls and causing Adam to flinch. "No, this isn't happening, this isn't happening."

Adam waited for you to see him, to be hit with the same realization. Instead, you only looked afraid, just as he supposed he had. His gaze softened and he let out a shuddering exhale.

You rushed back, hitting the wall with a thud as you stared wide-eyed at the corpse between you and this man.

"Who the fuck is that?! What's going on?!" You demanded, even though he didn't look to be in any condition to hurt you. Adam moved for the first time in the last hour and his joints felt the effects of it. Wincing, he sat up.

"I planned on asking you the same thing," he said. "But it sounds like you wouldn't know either."

You rubbed at your eyes, the soreness finally fading and allowing you to see more clearly. Adam stared at you intently but your expression never changed.

"What the hell are you looking at?" You asked in a sharp tone.

"Nothing," Adam muttered, staring back down at his desk.

There was scattered laughter and it made his hair stand on end.

He fucking hated this class because your friends were in it. He also loved this class, because you were in it, too.

What he didn't love was when you caught him staring. It made his face heat up and his palms sweat, more than they typically did around you. It also made your friends laugh and he loved that even less.

"Take a picture, Stanheight, it'll last longer," one of them said.

Adam dug his house key into his desk, crossing out your initial he had carved in there weeks ago. It was getting harder to look at anyway. He had taken pictures of you before, so it wasn't really the dig your friend thought it was.

"Such a fucking loser," another one sneered.

You didn't say anything to them, you never did. He was used to it already, opting to keep quiet himself as opposed to fighting with them. He didn't exactly feel like getting his ass kicked today. You'd never actually hurt him yourself, choosing only to watch when they did. Maybe he was crazy, searching for something that wasn't there, but sometimes when they were in the middle of beating the shit out of him, it almost looked as if you felt sorry.

Maybe that's just what he wanted you to feel.

"Who the hell even are you?!" Your voice called him back to the now, to that fucking bathroom.

His thoughts of that class, of his junior and senior year that you made a living nightmare, was almost enough to make him lose his patience with you.

"Just some asshole chained up in a bathroom," he replied bitterly. You don't remember me, he wanted to ask. Not at all?

There was a bad taste in his mouth, like he wanted to be sick.

"Well, Asshole Chained Up in a Bathroom," your voice shook. "You seem pretty fucking calm to me."

He seemed offended about something, probably that you didn't trust him. Tough luck, you thought. You had every right not to. There was something wrong in your head and another scent in your nostrils that was lingering in a way that made it clear it wasn't from here. It smelled like bleach and ammonia and every cleaning product in the world mixed together into one terrible, brain cell-killing concoction.

"Well, I've been awake longer than you," Adam said. "Plenty of time to grasp the shittiness of the situation."

You looked around the room, hands shaking so bad that you dropped your chain with a clatter.

"Who put us here?" You asked him. The man scoffed and turned to you with a straight face.

"How the hell should I know?"

"Do you know anything?" Your tone was sharp again. "I mean, seriously, what the hell have you been doing?"

"Take a look!" Adam gestured. "Not a lot I can do, is there?"

You looked at the chain identical to yours and tried to calm down. If he was in fact trapped with you, then you would have to work together to get out of here. Therefore, fighting wasn't the answer. You glanced back at him, regretting raising your voice. There was something melancholic about him, something that settled in your chest and behind your eyes and threatened to stay there. You knew he was scared too, even behind the hard expression on his face. You had seen something like it before, but you weren't sure where.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, running your hands through your hair. "I'm just freaking out."

Hearing your tone change into that shameful sort of sound made him swallow hard.

"It's fine," said Adam. "Me too. Just, just try the door maybe."

You looked to your left at the rusted door. There wasn't a knob, only a small handle. You guessed that it may have been a sliding door so you wrapped your hand around it and pulled with all your strength. It didn't budge. Your already sweaty hands didn't make it any easier and you nearly cracked your head open on a pipe once your grip finally slipped.

You fell right on your butt, hearing something rattle when your jacket pocket hit the tile. Looking up at Adam, you dug your hand inside. There was an envelope, crumpled and labeled with your name in big, black marker.

With shaking fingers, you ripped it open.

Inside was a small tape with the words: PLAY ME

Adam craned his neck to get a better look.

"What is that?"

"It's a tape."

After spending about five minutes trying to retrieve a tape recorder from the bloody corpse's hand, Adam finally got his hands on it and slipped in the tape that he'd found in his own pocket.

He pressed play on his cassette player, staring straight ahead at the sidewalk he'd stay on to get home. Eventually, he'd have to cross the street. It was cold and he didn't revel in the thought of having to walk, but ever since his bike had been crushed by your Volvo, he didn't have a choice.

Your favorite song played in his headphones. He tried to picture you in your room, playing it while you found sleep. What color were your sheets, did you have a TV? Were there pictures of you and your friends? He stopped thinking about it once their faces entered his mind.

The sound of a car rapidly approaching made Adam look behind him to see the Volvo speeding over the hill right towards him. He couldn't very well cross the street, he had no doubt you would try to hit him. So he stayed on his path and tried to pretend he didn't see you.

"Perfect," he said to himself. He thought bitterly that another run-in with you would truly be the cherry on top of a fantastic day.

One of your friends sat in your passenger seat and dared you to swerve dangerously close to him. You accepted hesitantly, afraid of actually causing physical damage to your classmate. When you swerved, you hit a large puddle at the perfect speed to splash Adam with muddy water before peeling off. Your friend laughed out the open window before cranking up your stereo, nearly making your ears bleed. You didn't even protest, laughing along with them as you sped up.

Adam froze in place, his left side entirely soaked. The cold wasn't doing him any favors and his teeth were already chattering. Your song played in his ears all the while and he finally couldn't take it anymore. He opened the cassette player roughly, nearly snapping the panel off in the process of taking the tape out. Throwing it to the wet concrete, his sneaker came down on it hard and he could hear it crack. But he didn't stop there, stomping on it over and over again until your face was far from his mind. To him, destroying something you loved might make him feel better.

It didn't. In reality, all he had done was destroy the only window to your life that he had. He panted over the remnants of the tape and watched as the black ribbons fluttered in the cold autumn air. Then he wiped a spot of mud from his face and crossed the street to continue on his way home.

He was home sick for the next week with the worst cold he'd ever had.

"You're probably wondering where you are. I'll tell you where you might be," The voice on the tape said. "You might be in the room that you die in. Up until now, you simply sat in the shadows watching others live out their lives and treat you any way they want. But what do voyeurs see when they look into the mirror? Now, I see you as a strange mix of someone angry, yet apathetic. But mostly just pathetic. So are you going to let people keep walking all over you, Adam, or do something about it?"

The tape clicked and so did something in your mind.

Adam?

The name was familiar. It reminded you of the fall and of dirty sneakers with pen ink smeared all over them. It reminded you of the dark corner in your high school gymnasium where all the burnouts sat. That couldn't be him, could it? That was impossible.

Adam's arms fell to his side in defeat. What the hell was he supposed to do with that information? He stared up at you and for the first time since you had woken up, he saw something ignite in your eyes. Something he remembered all too well.

"Toss me the recorder," you mumbled, readying yourself. Adam declined.

"Toss me your tape."

Your face screwed into an annoyed and angry look.

"Excuse me?"

"I know you heard me."

"Fuck you, give me the recorder," you ordered. "Now."

"I'm not going to risk breaking it!"

"Wrap it up in your shirt."

Though your idea wasn't terrible, hearing the man on the tape accuse him of being unable to stand up for himself had struck a nerve. It wasn't entirely true. He had gotten much better at it over the years, but being here with you now after all this time threatened to ruin his progress. He wouldn't let you make him feel weak, not again.

Fuck that.

You were stubborn at heart, you always had been. So instead of asking nicely or throwing Adam your tape, you stayed put. He kept staring at you, looking away when you'd catch him and resuming when you'd look away. It must have been an hour you both sat like that. You were starting to get angry, which scared you. You swallowed hard as you remembered the last time you'd felt something like that.

"Have we met?" You asked, finally breaking the silence. "You're starting to look really. . . familiar."

"Yeah, we've met. And from the sound of it, it seems like you know where."

His eyes were dark as you fidgeted in your spot.

"What was your name again?"

"It's Adam. Adam–"

"Stanheight. Yeah, I had a feeling," You said, a hand over your eyes. "God, this can't be happening to me."

"It's good to see you, too," said Adam with a somber expression. He'd wanted you to remember him this whole time, to feel like shit when you saw him. Now he was just humiliated.

Your stomach was in knots as you looked around the room. What kind of a sick joke was this? Karma really was a bitch if it had put you here with Adam, who looked like he still felt the sting of your teenage torment. You should have known it was him. Even after all this time, no one had ever truly made you feel that way with just one poisonous look. Your eyes watered and a sniffle escaped, making you mentally scold yourself.

"Hey, why the hell are you crying?" He demanded, making your tears fall faster against your will. "I'm the one who should be all torn up inside."

"Just shut the fuck up, Adam!" You yelled, causing him to rise from his spot. He looked livid now.

"You don't get to tell me to shut up! That's not who I am anymore!"

You stared up at him with red, teary eyes and a scowl on your face.

"Yeah, you're just some asshole chained up in a bathroom, right?" Sweat had started trickling down your forehead. "How do I know you didn't put us both here?"

"And punish myself by starving to death in here with you?" He scoffed. "No way."

"If you're such a victim, then why don't you just give me the recorder?"

Adam rolled his eyes and snatched up the small device.

"Here you want it? Fucking take it!"

He threw it to you at full speed, straight into your chest. Thankfully, you were able to block it with waiting hands. You quickly inserted your tape and pressed play.

"How's your walk down memory lane, (y/n)?" The hoarse voice said over the tape. "You spend every day of your life lying and hurting others to get what you want. Not even the strangers around you are safe from how much you can't stand yourself. You've been inflicting your own pain on others for years now, so far back you probably can't even remember when it began. So here's a reminder." You looked up at Adam who glared at you from across the room.

"To escape this room with your life, you need to show me something real. Show me that this is who you really are. Adam has been equipped with the key to his and your bounds. Once you're both free, one of you must die. You have until six on the clock to do it. Show me what you're really capable of and maybe I just might let you live. There are ways to win this hidden all around you. Just remember, X marks the spot for the treasure."

The tape clicked.

You looked back up at Adam, only this time the look on his face was one of confusion.

"I don't have any key!" said the man desperately.

"Adam."

"(y/n), I don't have a fucking key!"

"Then look for one!" You screeched.

Adam fell to his knees and started feeling around the broken tile for a key or anything to defend himself with. You did the same, knowing if he did find the key, he could try to hurt you when he was free.

"How the fuck does he know that I know you? How does he know anything about me?" You mumbled to yourself, tears threatening to fall once more. "I have to get out of here."

"We."

You paused your search to turn to Adam.

"What?"

"We have to get out of here," He corrected you, not bothering to look up. "You know for once, this isn't just about you."

Your eyes widened.

"Don't do that, don't act like you know me," you said. "You haven't known me for eight years and you hardly knew me before that. It's time to move on, just like everyone else."

"Yeah well, you don't get to make my life hell for two years and then tell me to move on."

"Adam, could you please focus," you sighed, returning your eyes to the floor.

"No!" He yelled, making you freeze. You hated being yelled at, maybe that's why you did it so much. "I mean, hey, we're here, so we might as well talk about it! Tell me, why were you such a dick to me in high school?"

You were at a loss for words. You hadn't talked about high school since you left and you never talked about why you were so mean to Adam, ever. It was never even something you could admit to yourself. To tell him now made escaping from that room look like a walk in the park. He stared at you expectantly.

"I, I don't know, that was a long time ago."

"And so that makes it okay?"

"No," You stumbled. "But I was a kid, I was eighteen."

"I was sixteen!" Adam said, his voice betraying the hurt he had been hiding from for so long. It made that melancholy feeling even worse.

"You were seventeen," You said softly. "The point is that people change, okay?"

"Have you?" asked Adam pointedly. "Changed?"

"I'd like to think I have." You fiddled with your stained long sleeves.

"I'm not asking what you think, (y/n), I'm asking what you've done."

His tone struck something in you, soaking your voice with annoyance.

"Yes."

He didn't look like he believed this, laughing dryly to himself and falling back against the wall.

"If you say so."

You clenched your jaw and crossed your arms.

"Okay, fine then. If you've changed, if you're so much better than me like you pretend you are, then why are you still so mad? Why can't you just move on?"

Adam looked to the floor as if he was embarrassed. His mouth twitched like he wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"Because I was in love with you."

His words made you sick. There was nothing wrong with Adam, but then, that was the problem. You had always liked him, really liked him. Not that you could ever tell anyone that. Your friends would have turned you into a pariah just like he was. And maybe it was selfish, but you just couldn't live like that. Not after all the other shit life had handed you.

He looked at you, waiting for you to say something. All you could do was stare back.

"Did you hear me?" He asked. "I said I was in love with you, and you treated me like shit to impress some people who have forgotten all about you."

"You don't know what you're talking about." You tried not to sound defensive and let him know what you had been so ashamed of all this time. "They had nothing to do with what I did. And they weren't so bad once you got to know them. "

This was a lie, even Adam knew that.

"You seem to have some kind of collective memory or something, but I don't. I remember when you guys stole my lunch and flushed it down the fucking toilet. I remember when you hit my bike with your car or filled my backpack with dirty snow, or threw drinks at me when you drove past. I remember my friends thinking I was an idiot for having a crush on you after all of that. Maybe you forgot, but I didn't."

You looked stunned and Adam tried to tell himself this wasn't the time to feel satisfaction in your embarrassment, but he couldn't help himself.

"I'm sorry, okay?" You finally relented. "It was just easier."

"Easier?"

"Being someone I knew people would like."

"I liked you," he said. "I mean, I liked you for who you were, before all that shit."

You looked around the dilapidated bathroom. It was just you and him in here, maybe it would stay like that. Maybe your secret would die here with the both of you.

"I liked you, too," admitted your brittle voice. "I thought about you all the time. It was so pathetic. If I had known. . ." You trailed off.

Adam watched as you quickly swiped tears away from your eyes. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this. Your confession left him with an emptiness inside himself. Just the idea of all the time wasted pretending to be someone you weren't while he waited for you to drop the act, you could have been with him, you could have become people together. In some alternate universe, neither of you would have ended up in this place.

"Oh," was all he said. "Well, maybe if you had taken some time out of your busy schedule and talked to me like I was a human being, things might have been different." Adam ran a hand through his hair.

"Whatever, it's not like it matters anymore. We're gonna die in three hours anyways," you said, falling back against the wall and looking up at the clock. Adam shook his head.

"I'm not dying here, neither are you," said the man, his voice full of determination.

You could say what you wanted about Adam. He'd become a bit abrasive over the years, but despite the situation and everything you'd ever put him through, he was still going to save you. Or die trying, at the very least.

#adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #adam stanheight x gn!reader #adam faulkner stanheight #angst #death mention tw #bullying #saw 2004 #saw franchise #saw #💌

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some-rotten-nest · 1 year

Text

Before Jason, before even Dick, there was a Robin. Well, not quite a Robin that was named Robin, but a sort of side-kick to Batman, though she stayed away from the spotlight and was essentially the cryptid to the cryptid.

Passerine, she was called.

No one but Bruce Wayne were quite sure what happened that made Passerine's rumours die fully down, as if they weren't always bottom of the barrel.

Bruce liked to avoid the topic, a whole lot, in fact, but when you have a family full of detectives, a concerning amount of who had been trained at one point or another by assassin's, keeping a secret, even if you're Batman, is hard.

Turns out, while on a mission Passerine had accidentally killed someone. How? He report didn't specify, but she did, and Bruce had gotten upset.

Being 14 at the time, Passerine got angry and ran-- apperently Jasons' story isn't that original-- and she ran right into Amity Park, where she would die.

Bruce regretted every single word he had said that day, how he hadn't heard Passerine out, how he was overwhelmed by Passerine breaking her promise never to kill anyone, how bad of a parent he was.

When Jason became Red Hood, Bruce made sure not to make the same mistake. Try and hear Jason out, never forcefully drive him away, because he wasn't going to lose Jason like he lost Passerine.

A few years later, they begin investigations into Amity Park, mostly Damian, so he can learn about Passerine, how well she would've kept up in a fight, and to see why Father had let her be the first sidekick, and not tell Grayson about it.

He found about a hero, Phantom, who, despite his powers, fought much like a bat was taught to fight. Like Passerine. Researching more, he found a clip from a Pride Parade held in Amity Park, where Phantom was wearing a transgender pride flag like a cape for the entirety of the celebration.

And when comparing the physical features of Phantom and Passerine, they matched. Well, bar the shorter hair and flatter chest.

He shows his findings to the rest of the family, who agree that they should investigate more-- possibly because Phantom seemed very powerful-- so they go to Amity Park, without Bruce, because they figured it was best not to.

In the first 5 hours of arriving there, there was an attack that none other but Phantom cut short. They locked eyes.

That was undeniably Passerine, though barely recognizable with the shorter hair and complete change, but she-- he still looked 14, as if he had died only a day ago. Not ages ago.

A few ghost hunters cut their staring short, causing Phantom to fly away.

All the bats in Amity Park make communicate with Phantom their top priority.

Meanwhile, Danny Phantom is freaking out(TM) because those were the bats, what were they doing in Amity and why did they make him so easily??

Some idea I had stuck in my head for the past few days where Danny died and didn't age, but still became Phantom.

Feel free to mess around with it you want to, but tag me if you do! I want to see!

Also, in my AU, Danny's deadname isn't Danielle, so I didn't want to use that for his deadname, so I just said Passerine.

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reticent-writer · 6 months

Note

Hello hello! Your writing has dragged me back into Demon Slayer(/vpos) and I got an idea, if you’re up for it! (This might be rambley so bare with me please)

What about (character(s) of your choice) with a music lover s/o or friend who gets turned into a siren-like demon? Physically speaking, maybe their skin becomes scales and they grow some fins here and there. And while they’re still mentally present enough to be themselves rather than a mindless cryptid, perhaps they become spacey, a bit more jumpy, and find a lot of solace near water/with music. How would your characters of choice handle these changes? Especially if s/o refuses to drink blood(or at least sources it like Tamayo does) and wants to fight by their side? (Maybe their Blood Art has something to do with their voice, like a Siren’s luring voice or a Banshee scream!)

I hope that’s not too much detail, feel free to leave out/add anything and have a wonderful day/night! Thank you!!

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ thank you for requesting, don't worry I love a lot of details.

sorry for the wait

I viewed most of these as platonic but it can go either way

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

If there is anything that you need Tanjiro gotchu. If you do drink blood he'll offer his if you don't that's even better. Out of everyone here he notices the changes in your personality the most. He notices your likes and dislikes and changes what he does to accommodate you.

"Y/n? you alright?" Tanjiro taps your shoulder to which you jump and turn around. Seeing that it was just him and nezuko you smile.

"Yeah why wouldn't I be?"

"We're on a mission and you were spacing out again." He sweatdropped as you took in your surroundings. It was the middle of the night, in a forest.

"Oh I'm sorry." You flush, "Did you kill the demon. I'm so sorry-"

"No no it's fine... it's just that I kinda broke my leg and I'm bleeding internally."

"OH MY GOD."

-------

One minute you're both talking then the next Muichirou forgets what you were talking about and you are spacing out. When he gets his memories back the first thing he remembers about you is your voice. You never tried to eat him so why should he care if you are a demon or not.

After the battle in the swordsman village, Muichirou was transported to the butterfly mansion.

"MUI-"

"Y/n don't shout this is an infirmary." Aoi scolded and you replied with a meek sorry.

the moment the two of you made eye contact, his eyes lit up. His best friend was waiting for him and he could clearly remember everything about anything.

You waited for Aoi to finish setting Muichirou in a room before you sat at his side and talked to him.

"Y/n can you sing the song that you're always humming."

-------

Rengoku believes that if nezuko can be a non-human-eating demon then there is a chance for you to be one too. Once he knows you're harmless he brings you around senjuro.

You were a former demon slayer and or close friend(or S/o) to the flame hashira, Your families were close.

"Senjuro you remember Y/n, don't you?"

"Oh no did something happen to them."

"Well not exactly she um-" cue you (who was standing in the shadows of the Rengoku estate) stepping out into the sunlight and getting burnt.

You gave Senjuro a heart attack when he saw you.

-------

Genya doesn't know how to react. It takes him days to figure out how to deal with literally everything. Man is walking on eggshells around you.

He literally just stares at you.

"Um genya... your creeping me out."

In the blink of an eye he snaps out of it and his face goes red.

-------

mitsuri finds you absolutely adorable, she's glad that you didn't turn into a full demon. Obanai on the other hand is very skeptical.

"Obanai look it Y/n." Mitsuri enthusiastically presented you to the less-than-happy man.

"Another demon seriously."

"Oh Obanai don't be so

-------

Tamao takes an interest in your changes. You being around is like a breathe of fresh air for her and Yushiro. Although Yushiro would never admit it.

"How are you feeling today Y/n." Tamao said as she offered you a cup of blood.

"I'm feeling fine thanks for asking.

"If you feel so fine would you mind getting back to work." Yushio butted in.

"Ah poor Yushiro having to cover for me for less than 2 days while I was out."

"Oh please you were only dying for a day you stayed down to be dramatic."

"Wow I-"

"Can both of you not argue please."

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Merry Christmas to everyone. I hope this holiday season has been full of joy.

This is my FINAL post of 2023.

It has been a year of many surprises and has now ended.

I'm still accepting requests but I won't post until the New year because there is so much going on.

#demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #gn reader #female reader #male reader #tamao x reader #obanai x reader #muichirou x reader #mitsuri x reader #rengoku x reader #genya x reader #tanjiro x reader #reticent writer #reticent writes

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bunnithebard · 13 days

Text

Through the Walls

A/N: So sorry about the radio silence!! But I'm going to double post to try and make up for the long break so those that are interested in where this little blurb goes can still enjoy my ramblings! Thank you dearies!

**Just a reminder that I'm moving from my other account (bunni3thebard) to this one, so that I can have more independence from my random trash account that's just an amalgamation of memes I enjoy lol–also, I can't remember who made the page break bats, so if you may know send me their name and I can at them accordingly. I just saved it on my phone one day cause I thought it was neat!**

Title: Through the Walls

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: You’ve been in Hawkins for almost a year now. It was nice, an escape from painful memories and a way to start fresh. After so long isolating yourself, you decide that it’s time to make friends, get to know someone so you’re not so alone. One of those friends happened to be your Cryptid Neighbor.

Chapter 1: Silent Scream

[Masterlist] [Chapter 2]

Your neighbor was a cryptid.

At least, you were convinced they were.

You knew someone lived there because of the lights that would come on and off, and the shadow figures moving behind the curtains. Not to mention that the walls were thin as fuck, so you heard them watch TV and play guitar and listen to metal music obscenely loud during the midnight hours.

But even though they kept the same crazy hours you did, you've never seen hide nor hair of them.

You started to make theories about what kind of person they were. Like that they were a burn out whose parents paid for everything for them so they didn't work, just farted around all day–hence the 4am jam sessions.

Another theory that had struck you one night while working a double at the Hawkins ER was that they were a drug lord and had to keep odd hours to evade the police.

But you wrote off that theory since you'd thought it up while sleep deprived after an 18 hour shift.

You entertained the idea of a squatter, but then why would they have electricity?

You had finally come to the conclusion that you were lonely as fuck and you obsessed over the identity of your mysterious neighbor because you were long deprived of human companionship and thus you hyperfixated on a superficial meaningless thing to distract yourself from being alone.

Or maybe they were Mothman…

Thankfully the grocery store kept late hours on the weekend, and that's where you found yourself on your free Saturday night. You'd woken up naturally around seven pm, even though your alarm was set for nine, and decided to putter around your house until your alarm went off so you could feel like you were properly lazy.

You sat contemplating cereals for a few meandering seconds, sure your eyes were blinking at an astronomically slow pace. You'd smoked a bowl to help you sleep and felt like it hadn't completely left you. You just hoped your eyes weren't red.

Grunting, you shoved both boxes into your cart and turned to move on to the next aisle when you crashed into someone else's cart. "Shit." You hissed below your breath, rubbing your stomach where the handle of the cart had roughly jabbed into you.

"Damn, sorry about that!"

Looking up you met the soft face of a brunette woman who looked about your age with her hair pulled back into a messy bun and long-sleeve black shirt falling off one of her thin shoulders exposing her bra strap. She gave you a sheepish smile and you shrugged.

"No harm no foul, although if you do it again I'll take it personally and make no bones about it: I will cry." She snorted, making you grin in triumph.

"Don't worry. I don't make it a habit of accosting people in the grocery store." She pulled her cart back from yours.

You hummed, "Good to know I'll be a one-and-done hit-and-run."

Her smile was cute. She had a strong jaw with a petite nose that scrunched up adorably as she grinned.

"I'm Nancy." She'd offered her hand.

You hesitated.

It had been a while since you'd earnestly interacted with someone outside of transactional exchanges, like for work or buying things or paying bills. People were messy. Maybe it was the paranoia from your past–trauma you couldn't shake that clung to you like a second skin–but you'd been wary of making friends on the off chance your name gets around and spreads to corners of places you didn't want it to go.

It was ridiculous. Narcissistic in a way.

So you ground your teeth and mustered a smile hoping it looked genuine and shook her hand.

You stood outside staring at the moon for a while dressed in nothing but a size 8XL shirt you snagged from Wal-Mart cause it was soft. You knew you should smoke inside, no telling when someone might rat you out to the cops, but the moon was full and the stars were bright. You weren't used to how clear the sky was in comparison to the city, even after a year.

Your eyelids fluttered, vision hazy as the weed worked its magic.

Nancy had invited you to some neighborhood get-together next week that was popular in Hawkins. Said she hadn't seen you around before and was surprised you'd survived a year without becoming the talk of the town. You blew out a heavy stream of smoke, humming to yourself thoughtfully.

But that had been the point, right?

Keep a low profile, stay hidden.

Sighing, you took another deep drag of your joint, holding the burning breath as tight as you could. You watched the stars dance in your vision before you finally exhaled.

God you were fucking lonely, though.

You scrubbed at your head, mussing up your hair. Curiosity was easy to take hold in your high state, so you peered towards your neighbors apartment and saw a shadow in front of the curtains. You squinted, eyeing the light blue fabric for a while since your vision was blurry. You could've sworn you saw a sliver of it be pulled aside with tentative fingers. You blinked slowly, sighing heavy through your nose and mumbled to yourself, "Fucking bigfoot in there for sure."

Turning back around to your apartment door you sucked in the last bit of the joint and dropped the roach to the ground, bending over to squish it with a rock to make sure it was out. Standing with a groan, you walked barefoot back to your front door. You were like, 90% sure the complex was just repurposed from an old Motel 6, but it was cheap and they sprayed for bugs every Tuesday, so you didn't complain.

It was small, enough space for your bed with a loveseat to watch your shitty TV that sat on top of your dresser and a micro kitchen they built in the corner next to the door for the bathroom. There was no kitchen sink and the fridge was half-size, but you were one person so you didn't quite care enough to complain. You did wish the fridge drawers were a bit bigger so they didn't catch on all the food packages you shoved in there.

Maybe it was because you were high, or lonely–or maybe a combination of the two–but you slid your hand across the wall that connected your apartment to your cryptid neighbor's. Then you tapped the starting notes for "Shave and a Haircut". You waited a breath, not sure if they had even heard it.

But then there it was: "Two Bits".

You grinned, giggling like Scooby Doo as you danced over to your bed, throwing yourself down with a bounce on the cheap twin.

Since you had smoked, sleep came easy. You were lulled into dream after weird dream courtesy of Miss Mary Jane. There was one where you went grocery shopping with Bigfoot and another where you went on Jerry Springer because you were pregnant with Mothman's baby.

You were curious what kind of cryptid your neighbor was.

The neighborhood block party was, for all intents and purposes, a Hawkins bash.

Apparently it was a pretty regular affair every few months: a potluck with a few dad's who wheeled their grills to the end of a large cul-de-sac to cook up some burgers and dogs, some artsy fartsy mom's who made crafts for the younger kids to do, and sparklers and poppers for the older kids to get into mischief with.

There were maybe fifteen to twenty adults and a smattering of an equal number of kids.

You had brought a shitty box of cookies from a bakery a few blocks away from the hospital since you couldn't cook anything on your extra small stove. You also had switched shifts with Beverly–fucking ray of sunshine she was, grunting and groaning about working on a Saturday night, but you had taken her Sunday so she could get bent–so that you could be here, at this lovely affair.

You were starting to have regrets.

You watched a few pre-teens wave sparklers around in glee, making to poke and prod one another with the burning end. You wondered if you should step in, knowing that there were some second degree burns waiting to happen, but a random mom came over and grabbed each kid's wrists in warning. You slunk away to the food table.

You set your meager contribution down and turned to eye all the adult women, trying to find your potential petite new friend.

They all had their hair done up in that style where their bangs spiraled out in delicate feathering with the ends curled towards their shoulders. Some had simple ponytails decorated with hair bands and colorful scrunchies. You ran your fingers through your hair self-consciously; you hadn't done anything, merely brushed it and hoped for the best as you donned your nicest pair of jeans and a thrifted Van Halen '79 tour shirt. You figured since it would be outside the party would be a casual thing, but the dresses and blouses these housewives wore made you think you were a little unprepared for the mandatory 'Sunday Best' dress code.

You fiddled with the ends of your shirt.

You contributed to the sacrificial neighborhood potluck, maybe the Gods will be pleased enough to let you leave without seeing Nancy.

You turned to make a break for it and nearly bowled over the brunette in question.

Cookies were not a good enough sacrifice.

Her smile was bright and her blue eyes lit up at seeing you. "Hey, you made it!" She went in to hug you and you tensed, locking your arms to your side in the world's most awkward exchange of physical affection.

She gave a nervous smile and pulled away, "Sorry, too soon for hugs?" Her chuckle was used to try and break the tension and you were grateful as you laughed along.

"No, it's just–I uh… haven't really hung out with anyone for a while, so I guess I'm just getting back into the swing of how friendship works." You shrugged, rubbing the back of your neck.

Her eyes sparkled at your admission of seeing her as a potential friend. She grabbed your hand and pulled you over to a small group that hung around the edges of the block party.

The first one you noticed was a taller Hispanic man with the most beautiful hair you had ever seen in your life. It was lustrous and hung past his hips, swaying gently with his movements. He smiled, eyes half-lidded but sweet, giving you a gentle nod as Nancy motioned to the group, giving your name.

"This is Argyle," she pointed at the man with the incredible hair.

"Robin," next was a thin, lanky woman with messy dirty blonde hair that hung a little past her chin. She had a dusting of freckles across her nose and a charming crooked smile. She wiggled her fingers in a sweet hello.

"Steve," the man next to Robin was broad-shouldered with a just as square jaw line. His eyes were slightly turned down at the ends, giving him this sweet puppy-dog stare matched with a megawatt smile. He had some random freckles and moles that decorated across his face and the visible areas of his arms that made him look a lot younger. He nodded to you, giving a weird wink that you were sure was supposed to come off as charming, but was mildly unsettling.

"And my husband, Jonathan!" The last guy had a small upturned nose with a low brow that was covered by messy strands of mousy brown hair. He gave a shy smile, nodding to you while bouncing lightly. Over his shoulders he had a baby vest strapped to him and a very crabby looking baby facing outwards. Their face was scrunched up, looking more like a potato than a child, and they had wispy brown hair that was stuck up wildly like their head had been rubbed with a balloon.

Nancy smiled proudly, tickling the cheek of the child that gave a low, annoyed hum for an impressively long amount of time. "And this is Eliza, my daughter."

You gave a pinched smile, waving awkwardly. "Hey."

"'Sup Brosephina," Argyle smiled, offering you his fist. You chuckled, tapping yours against it lightly. "A pleasure to aquaint with you." He stuck his hand back in his pocket, the other holding the neck of a Pabst.

"An enjoyable aquaint with you as well." You rocked awkwardly onto your heels.

Argyle's smile grew and he nodded, "Right on." He laughed.

"Hi," you looked over to Steve who held out his large hand in greeting. You shook it, noting that he was gentle when shaking yours, but gave a squeeze before he released you. His smile was adorable, but he was definitely trying to flirt. You were curious if it was just an unconscious thing, or if he was actually putting in effort. "Nice to meet you."

You gave a soft nod in reply, but before you could fully pull your hand away, Robin shot forward and grabbed it giving you a few firm shakes, "It's really good to meet you, I think I actually saw you a while ago–my girlfriend's daughter broke her arm and I remember you gave us all strawberry Jell-O before we left."

Your eyes widened and you pointed at her with your other hand, "Oh yeah! Dotty! She was freaking adorable. How's her arm?"

Robin's smile was glowing and she squeezed your hand tightly, "She's good, her whole class signed her cast and when she got it off she begged to keep it even though it smelled like old shoes."

You barked out a laugh, unknowingly squeezing Robin's hand back, "Hell yes, that's awesome. A trophy of her triumphs! I recommend a pantyhose sock full of cat litter, it helps a ton with the shoe stink."

Robin's eyes widened and she gave a dramatic gasp, "That's freaking brilliant, oh my god, thank you!"

Jonathan snickered, "You got chronic stinky feet?" He teased, eyes glimmering as he bounced his daughter.

You smirked, dropping Robin's hand and leaning into your hip, "Maybe, or maybe I've learned a thing or two from working with older nurses. But I could also have insanely stinky feet, and now you know my shame."

Everyone laughed and you felt your smile grow, your shoulders relax, and you let yourself feel like you belonged.

You didn't feel so alone anymore.

The block party ended up not being bad. Although, a guy named Andy Barker had tried to hit on you when you went to grab a hot dog ("You like 'em long and juicy, huh"–barf) even though his wife was within eyesight. Nancy had warned you that they often did that: flirt with other people in front of each other to get their partner jealous.

It was absolutely insane, small towners were bonkers.

You had snagged a bag full of cookies for the road, not including those from the bakery you had gone to as they were a little rubbery and sad. Argyle gave you a high five.

"Choice snack Brochacha, need a muchie master to inspire your partaking in said chocolate chunks?" You blinked a few times, unsure of what in the hell he was trying to say.

Jonathan snickered, leaning over to translate, "Do you want some weed with that?"

Needless to say: Argyle was your favorite.

Pocket a little heavier with two freshly rolled "Blunts of Friendship", as Argyle called them, and a couple of sandwich bags full of pilfered cookies, you walked up to your door with a smile.

You had made friends.

It was nice, this feeling. You hadn't been able to know companionship, even platonic ones, in such a long time it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Maybe not all the weight, but it was lighter and it felt good to breathe with a little less paranoia pushing you down.

You jiggled the keys into your lock but stopped, turning ever so slightly to look at your neighbor's door. It was a gawdy yellow with a plaquard of gold painted numbers reading "2D" decorating it. The paint on the numbers and the door was chipped in places and faded from natural weathering. You didn't see any shadows in the window and the light wasn't on. It wasn't surprising since the sun was still, technically, out.

It was sunset, the sky lit up by a golden-amber glow that slowly sunk into the royal purple of the evening as it met the horizon. Night would fall soon.

You weren't sure what compelled you, maybe the giddy feeling that came from making new friends, or from having a really good day, but you strolled over to the door and stared at it, feet placed only a few inches away. Looking down at the bags in your hand, you placed one of them against the wall next to the door and sighed.

Nerves were starting to eat at you and you looked at your apartment door that was about ten feet away, then back to 2D's. Sucking in a deep breath for strength, you gathered your bravery and knocked on the door three times before booking it to your door: 2C.

Slamming your door behind you, you kept the lights off and took deep gulping breaths. That was the fastest you'd ever run in your life, you're sure of it.

You slunk to the floor, splaying your legs out in front of you as you caught your breath, thumping your head back against the wood of your own gawdy yellow door. You shut your eyes.

You don't know why in the fuck you decided to dong-dong-ditch some cookies for your cryptid neighbor.

Maybe it was because you had developed a weird relationship with them in your head: mysterious being that occupies the shitty motel-esque apartment next to you that may know your struggles because they keep the same weird hours you do. You had put too much thought into them and they became a being you considered a friend in the fantasy of your mind.

You wanted to include them in the block party.

You had sat there for a good ten minutes, breath caught, and you didn't quite know what to do with yourself now. You didn't want to go to sleep–no matter how fucking tired you were from staying awake during the day–but you were at an impasse of not knowing where to go or what to do.

And that's when you heard it.

"Shave And A Hair Cut".

The smile that spread across your face pushed the apples of your cheeks up so high you could see the tops of them in your vision. You laughed softly, bringing your hand up to the wall and replying.

"Two Bits".

[NEXT CHAPTER]

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #Eddie Munson x reader #kas!eddie #kas!eddie munson #Kas!Eddie Munson x reader #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie au #Stranger things au #Stranger things reader #stranger things fanfiction

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sofiiel · 11 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲: 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝!𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Part 2 ⇢

Summary: In which you stumbled upon Cryptid!Eddie cowering in an alleyway one chilly autumn night in Hawkins, Indiana. And make a new friend.

Warnings: Bittersweet fluffy friends. Angst in the form of sad, not so little guy. Cheesiness. DemoEddie.

A/n: I may make a slowly updated friends to lovers series out of this, as I'm fond of their interactions. I'm certainly thinking of writing this from Eddie's pov. Also, I am done with summer so here it's fall 🧡

It's a particularly cold autumn night as you empty the trash from the bakery into the dumpster.

You're new to Hawkins, and you've heard all the strange stories. Though, you thought it was all small town hysteria and conspiracy theories. But the town was now a tourist destination. And a perfect place to open your first business.

You'd had a busy grand opening and your mind is still thinking over the day when you hear a startled yelp from inside the large trashcan.

You stumbled back as a dark figure leaps out and darts into the shadows. A strange high-pitched whine following the sound of scrapping.

Was it a dog?

Pulling your coat around you tighter, you venture to investigate, carefully.

"Stay back..." A raspy voice calls out from the corner. A large wisp of breath floating towards you.

Your feet stop moving, was it the dog's owner? Something wasn't adding up.

"Sir, if you need food for your dog, I have dog treats inside if-"

A distorted laughter seeps from the shadows, it turns into a spine-chilling whinny. If a whistling wind could chortle.

"Please just...go away." said the voice.

He didn't sound like he was in good shape, and you ponder calling the police.

"Hold on, I'll be back, I'm just going to call and get you some help. You don't sound well, sir-"

"Don't do that!" it bellowed. The cry knocks you off your feet, the force behind and it and something else…

You wince, glass shards stuck in your palm. You have little time to worry about it, however, as you feel a thick, warm liquid seep out of your ear.

His yowl felt like standing too near a train whistle.

You sat among the scattered leaves of the large oak tree above your shop, trying to stop the fear racing in your chest.

Pressing a finger to your ear, you examine the blood.

A moan of regret comes from the shadows, "I tried to warn you. Please leave." it says.

Something in the way its words hit your core, sways your fear into an odd curiosity.

"He sounds sad." You find yourself thinking.

One thing was obvious, that cry that pierced your ears, would have hurt any canine to the point of whimpering. His dog was either deaf, or there was never a dog to begin with.

"But could a man hop out of a dumpster with such speed?" you ponder.

Getting to your feet, you hear shuffling in the corner. It's extremely late and Hawkins has gone to bed. In the sleepy quiet, all small sounds are magnified. The same was true to the tiny hiss of pain in the corner.

"Are you hurt?" You question, only to be answered by a hushed growl.

You bit your lip and glance away. "Listen, I won't call the police, but at least let me help." you offer.

He says nothing, but you can hear him slink further into his corner.

"I won't come back there, I promise. I'm just going to bring you a blanket, my first aid kit and maybe something warm to drink?" you say.

He doesn't respond, but he'd made himself perfectly clear any time he'd disagreed with your actions.

"Ok, I'll be right back." you murmur, whisking away to the back door of your shop.

Closing the cold out behind you, you lean against the door and exhale. Just a moment to collect yourself. However, you still had little time to squander.

You take the old lift to your studio above and rummage through your trundle drawers for your extra blanket. Moving about as fast as you are able, you pop a cup of hot chocolate into the microwave.

From your bed came a dry 'mrow' from your calico devon rex.

"Not now Toad, I'll give you your snack later, I promise." you tell her as her green eyes square on you.

At the sound of the 'ding' with blanket and paper cup in hand, you head back down.

In a small amount of time, the wind decided to waken. Opening the back door, you are met with the biting breeze.

There's a slight gasp and a great commotion.

"Shit, fuck...damn it..." a string of soft curses follows the noise of hit metal and pavement.

"A-are you ok? I did say I'd be right back." you call to him. Blanket thrown over your shoulder and cup in hand.

You feel as though someone's watching you with a weighty gaze.

Quietly, you move forward and set the cup on the ground.

"I kinda don't want to lay your blanket down on the cold ground. So, I'll just hold it out to you?" your statement comes out as a question.

He offered no objections, only -

"Could you," he lulled carefully, "possibly look away."

You nod and turn your head, shutting your eyes. Scraping against the concrete tickles your ears.

Briefly against your fingertips, a cold pointed sensation brushes against your skin. The shivering touch stands out even against the frosty night air.

You shut your eyes tighter at the swooshing of the blanket.

More scraping, he must be going for the cup. But why that sound? What's moving along the ground?

Curiosity won't leave you be, and you dare to take a peek.

Your head slowly turns as your eyes widen gradually. Your lips tremble as they part, and your hand goes to silence a gasp.

The man kneeling before you, blanket draped over his shoulders, hardly looked like a man at all.

Long shaggy curls hid his face, lanky arms twice the length of any natural anatomy were thin but strictly muscle. What one would expect to see if you pulled away one's skin.

Hands the length of feet grasped the cup, spindly taloned fingers curling over one another.

If he stood he would be a tower, a gangly frightening tower.

But what shocked you the most was the oddly elegant webbing around his arms.

"Wings." you exhaled.

The creature who'd been happily slurping the chocolate looked up at you with a start.

He was the monster, and yet he was the one who looked terrified. While his body shivered from the cold, fear had him frozen in place.

Dark eyes slowly filled with water, they shimmered under the light of the crescent moon.

You should have been running, you have screamed and called for help. Though somehow in that alley, looking into the face of this creature, you felt as if you were the threat.

Moving carefully, you lower yourself as much as possible.

"You're ok." you tell him. You take your words slowly and make sure to meet his eye.

"I won't hurt you, if you won't hurt me. Deal?" you ask.

He watches you in wonder but manages to nod his head.

Looking over your shoulder, you glance at the door. It probably wasn't wise to bring a monster into your business. It was probably twice as ridiculous when said business was also your home.

With a sigh, you turned back to him and managed a smile. You offered out your hand.

"Come on, You'll freeze to death out here, and you missed the grand opening today. We gave away free finger sandwiches and soup." you tell him.

He blinks several times, his gaze tells you he thinks you're a little looney. However, his eyes fall to your hand, it's in his eyes that he wants to take it.

You wait patiently and twinkle your fingers.

"Well come on, when's the last time you had a nice hot meal, hmm?" you tempt him.

A strangled chuckle chokes out from his throat, droplets of water now coating his eyelashes. He shook his head no, but the weight in your palm and the fingers curled tightly around your hand whispered, "please."

You look on him softly and give the hand dwarfing your own a gentle shake. "Very well then, come on." you hum.

"My name is ____, I hope you'll enjoy Lazy Pot's signature soup." You continue to converse with him, if only to put him at ease. That look on his face left a sour feeling in your gut.

"You're nuts." He murmured.

"I get that a lot." you shrug. Had you turned around, his height may have stunned you.

You lead him to the door, standing in the entryway, when his feet come to a halt. With his hand still gripped onto yours, dead weight pulls you back.

You turn to him with your question silently lingering on your face.

He didn't have to voice his answer.

"I promise, I'm probably the scariest thing about this building." you tell him. His eyes which had been stuck on the door look down to his clawed feet.

He awkwardly raised one digileg and wiped his large foot against the mat.

You weren't going to correct him, for fear you'd scar him off. Waiting for the creature to wipe his feet and ducking to clear the entryway, take his first steps into the door.

What struck you with an uncomfortable tingle down your spin was a red, swollen wound around his right ankle.

The faint sweet and savory smells that hovered in the shop seemed to be luring him in as he gave his lips a lick. One small step at a time, it took a while before he'd made it completely through the door.

"May I close the door now?" You ask.

He gives an absent nod, eyes scanning his new surroundings with a twinkle.

Moving slowly, you closed the door.

With the curtains drawn shut, you watched in wonder while the creature plowed through plates of finger sandwiches, and his third bowl of soup.

Your eyes followed the twined tail that swished about the ground like a cluster of roots.

"How'd I miss that?" you think to yourself.

If it wasn't all so peculiar, you might have laughed. He was hardly frightening, cocooned in his blanket, gobbling down spoonfuls of soup like a child eating all his most favorite food.

With a release of breath, you lean back in your chair, finally able to relax.

The creature came to a realized halt, and with timid eyes glanced up at you. You flashed him a smile.

He reaches his finger out towards the plate piled in sandwiches, "You don't want anything?" He asked between slurps.

Your eyes crease into a smile of their own, "thank you, but those are all yours. I don't think I've ever seen someone enjoy my food this much, please help yourself." You urge.

For a moment you could have sworn you saw red tint his cheeks.

He wiped his mouth with the bend of his wrist and looked away from your eyes.

"Thank you." He murmured quietly.

"No, thank you, I think you've given me the best wordless review I've ever received." you chimed.

Your brows knit with concern as you move to leave the table.

Before you could blind, a hand snatched your arm, a trembling grip held to you.

"I'm just going back to the kitchens, there's a first aid kit back there. Your ankle is hurt." you explain in a slow calm.

His hands ease back, fingers uncurling from your wrists.

"Sorry." he whispers.

"It's fine. I'll be back." you say this, but you can still feel a worried gaze watching as you go.

It was almost uncomfortably quiet while he allowed you to clean and wrap his leg. The food was gone, and he now sipped on a bottle of water.

But you could feel those eyes on you.

"Do you have a name?" you ask him, desperate for sound beyond the ticking of the wall clock.

"I-" his words caught as if trying to remember.

You glance up at him, his eyes wide.

"It's been a long time since I needed to know my own name." he confessed.

"Is it Joe? You look like a Joe." You tease.

The creature shook his head.

"Billy?" You keep up, with a snap of your fingers you grin, "Tom, that's it for sure."

His eyes stay on you before a hint of a smile comes to his face.

"Name's Eddie." he says.

"Well Eddie, I'm glad I found you when I did," you hummed, listening as the wind gave a howl.

You move away, finished with treating his wound. "Where are you from?"

He scoffs, "Hawkins." he said.

"Do you have a home? Family? Others like-"

You swallow your words as Eddie flinched.

"Are there no others like you?" you ask softly.

"No, I came back....wrong." he whispered, lifting his hands so that he might look at them. Eddie gave his fingers a wiggle, his claws clacking together.

It may have been better to change the subject. "What happened to your leg?"

"Bear trap, spent too much time around the local farms." Eddie uttered quickly under his breath.

"Bear trap!" you nearly shout.

Eddie shrugged, "it's happened before." he spoke, eyes wandering between his hands and yours.

You had so many questions. How'd something as large as himself hide for others? It couldn't have been easy.

Was he born this way? If so, why were there none like him?

In the back of your mind, the rumors about the town echoed.

Slowly Eddie pushed out of his seat, "Thank you, ____. I'll hit the roa-"

A loud crack was followed by the delicate tinkling of glass shards against the wood floors.

You duck as you hear cackling and several more crashes.

"Welcome to Hell! Enjoy your grand opening! Freak!" voices shout amongst the laughter.

Your eyes fall on the brick and stones laying on your shop floor.

Headlights blinding both you and Eddie as they brightened before the tire's squealed.

The shop became dark and silence took over once again. The holes in the glass welcoming in the cold wind, insult to injury.

In that silence, you lingered, until it felt safe to move. You rose up and glared at the brick. "It's the same everywhere I go." you murmured.

Eddie turned to you with a brow raised.

You sigh, "I don't know if you have access to news or papers. But I'm kind of infamous by way of an unhinged celebrity dad. He tried to blow up Area 51. Said they were hiding a hell gate. Of course, that drags his novelist chef child into the pits as well." you muttered.

"it's stupid." you shrugged, going to fetch the broom.

Eddie's eyes followed you. "hell gate?" he asked.

"Like it said, it's stupid." you called back to him.

Eddie shook his head as if clearing his thoughts or shaking away a bad memory. His eyes going to the window.

"I can go get them, if you'd like." he offered you, voice hollow.

You loot at him steadily, "are you offering because you think that's what a monster ought to do?" You ask.

Eddie turns towards you with clumsy feet, his head tilts a little.

"I mean, at least I'd be good for something like this." he said with a shrug.

Your eyes thinned at him. "You say that like you weren't always...like, that."

"I wasn't," Eddie then chuckled, "alright, I may have always had this ugly mug." he said circling his face.

You frowned a little at his disparaging smile.

"But I wasn't always like this. It kind of just..." Eddie's words faded.

You waited, but knew he had little intentions of finishing that statement.

Eddie glanced around, twiddling his long fingers. "So um," he lulled sucking in his lips, "y-you got another broom. I can help with this." He offered.

You found yourself blinking and, wordless as you watched him, fidget about. The sight of the bashful creature was certainly something to see.

His words crept out from his lips quietly, "or, you know, I can just leave."

Your eyes brows creased as you watched him, his body seemed to turn away from the door naturally. That obscure tail of his wrapping around his feet. Eddie's entirety was trying to fit into the tiny place where he stood.

Saying nothing, you walk to him, tilting your head back to look up at him. Eddie's eyes almost fret full as he waited for you to speak, they wouldn't hold your gaze as he shied them away.

"I'll le-" Eddie gasped silently, his hands naturally gripping the broomstick you'd offered him.

For a moment, he looked at you with eyes so wide you feared they'd roll out from the sockets.

You give him a smile, "I'll go get the other broom." as you turn away from him, you manage to catch a glimpse of a small smile. Both of Eddie's hands clutched the broom stick tightly.

After cleaning up and making Eddie some more soup in thanks, You studied him. "What am I going to do with you?" you pondered.

Eddie clanged his spoon against his bowl, any minute now he'd announce he should leave again. But still his movements were the opposite of what his words would have been.

"I should-"

"Leave?" you asked.

Eddie looked up at you a flushed slightly. "Yeah."

"Where would you go? Where do you go?"

"There are lots of woods and thickets around Hawkins. It's easy to disappear in the cornfield near the outskirts." He murmured.

"But you came all the way to downtown." You stated.

Eddie nodded, "I was checking on someone."

At the twinkle of realization in your eyes, Eddie quickly held out his hands. "I didn't let them see me. I never do." he said.

Looking down at his hands, Eddie flexed his powerful claws, whispering, "not like this."

"but you do have people who care about you and where you might be." you spoke carefully.

Eddie subtly shook his head, "they care, but i've been dead for years now."

"Dead?"

Eddie simply nodded and got to his feet, heading for the back door. "Thank you for the food, and..." Eddie's claws grasped at the blanket still dangling over his shoulders.

His thumb stroked the slightly beaded lenty fabric.

"You can keep it." your words rushed out quickly. He seemed not to want to part with it.

"and," you exhaled slowly.

This was probably a stupid idea. The worse idea, the point in most movies were you wanted to shout at the screen "idiot!" but with hands balled up loosly you resolved yourself.

"You can stay." you said.

Eddie's slumped shoulders jerked up to square as he turned to look at you.

"If you want." you added, "I mean...it's friggin cold out."

He pulled the blanket around himself like a hug, tail swishing about, "you're sure? Like serious?" he questioned.

You can't help but let out a little laugh at his reaction.

"Like sooo serious. It's not everyday you meet a friendly beast." you tease.

Eddie pulled his new old blanket above his head and cocooned himself once again. For the first time he flashed a full smile and it was uniquely dazzling.

"I won't cause you any problems. I promise." He said quickly.

"You won't even know I'm here, swear. I, I can stand guard down here, sleep in one of the booths or something." He spoke excitedly, tail trashing about more, whacking into the tables.

"It's still cold down here, the windows are busted." You said, withholding your laughter.

Pointing over your shoulder towards the small lift, you smiled. "My studio is upstairs. You can sleep on the sofa." you offered.

Eddie tightened the blanket around himself even more.

"But, that's your house." his words tumbled out.

"Yeah. I'm not the brightest. But I let what looks like an eight-foot man faced bat-raptor version of a xenomorph into my shop a talked to it for what's amounting to two hours now." you reasoned.

You eased away your playfulness and gave him an earnest smile. "If you'd had plans to hurt me, you could have done so already. Very easily. You don't want to."

Eddie fiddled with his claws, looking down at his feet.

So once again, you held out your hand. "Now it's no commercial grade lift, just a personal one the previous owner had. I-I'm not sure if it'll carry the both of us but, I guess we'll soon see." you chuckled.

Eddie slipped his hand into yours, your finger's barely able to wrap around his large palms.

As you stood next to him, dwarfed by his height, the elevator doors closed. "Oh...how are you with cats?" you asked him.

"They hate me."

"Oh no..."

Toad mrowed loudly as she proclaimed her spot on Eddie's lap. Rubbing the side of her face and ears against his claws like a personal scratcher.

"So much for they hate me." you sighed with a giggle. Returning to Eddie with a spare pillow and another blanket. He was far too lanky for just one.

In the better lighting of your studio, you could finally see his clothes. Ripped and tattered as if he'd seen battle. Everything was shrunken in the wash in a cartoonish fashion.

Eddie shied away as he noticed your attention on him.

"Stop, you wouldn't want to be stared at." you told yourself.

Going to him, you offered the pillow, "Here you go."

Eddie excepted the pillow and set it in place, Toad taking her leave after arching her back high into a stretch.

You notice Eddie's eyes flutter, lids dropping. You speak quietly, "Lay down, you're safe here." and it causes him to peer up at you. His dark eyes large and sad now filled with what you could only describe as gratitude.

His body relax as if accepting a wave of exhaustion. Eddie curled into a ball and lay his head down on the pillow, wrapped in the initial blanket.

Using the second blanket, you pull it over his lower half, taking care around his ankle.

Eddie's eyes closed as he managed a "thank you" through a yawn.

Your hand reaches down to him, just managing to stop yourself inches above the top of his head.

"Would that be weird?" you asked yourself, but he just seemed so...small. Like a kitten scooped out of the gutter.

"Yeah," you thought. Instead, resting said head on his shoulder. "Get some rest, Eddie. Something tells me it's been a long time." you whispered.

"I'm just across the room, behind the divider, if you need anything." you offered. But you could already hear his soft snoring.

You gently tuck in the blankets snug and make your way around to turn off the lights. Before heading to the bathroom to change, you steal one last look.

There you find Toad, hopping onto Eddie and walking her comfy circles before nestling atop of him and his blankets.

Your gaze on him softens, "how utterly terrifying." you think with a shake of your head, closing the bathroom door behind you.

That's how you met The Monster in the Alley.

Part 2 ⇢

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #cryptid!eddie x reader #demo!eddie x reader #probably a slowly updated series maybe just when i have more thoughts on this #eddie munson fic

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deerspherestudios · 10 months

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What made you come up with the concept of this game? Also do you have a playlist based off of Mychael?

I think I've always wanted a cryptid-like yandere for the gamejam when it all started. It was a very barebones concept about a lonely mushroom man who sets up spore traps in order to ensnare and kidnap company. It was supposed to be way creepier and invasive as a oneshot thing, and was never meant to have multiple days in the story.

I'm glad I didn't go in that direction, though. I'm having more fun fleshing out Mychael's character and I made this blog because people were asking for it! I don't think a one-shot would've been able to build the sense of mini-fandom it has going on ❤️

As for a playlist, there's one based on Mushroom Oasis here! I plan to add songs as the Days go on.

But I do have a general Mychael playlist in the works! It's a mix of cute/creepy and romantic/platonic vibes that just fit him in my opinion. I'm still trimming and fine-tuning it!

If you guys have suggestions for Mychael songs feel free to let me know ❤️🍄🎶

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael ask #cheea chatter in the tags but #initially it was gonna be a snail monsterman who steals crops out of your back garden #and you go out to bonk him on the head only to invite him into your home #maybe in the future ill work on the snailboy dating sim </3 #accidentally posted this btw but oh well

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cilil · 1 month

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Nerdanel's origin

Finally getting around to talk about one of my favorite recent headcanons (I have @thecoolblackwaves to thank for motivating me), yet another one that started out as crack and then I fell in love with it.

Tldr: Nerdanel's mysterious absent mother is none other than Aulë.

Here's the idea. We know that Aulë was not only very excited about the arrival of Ilúvatar's Children (a detail about him that was already present in Lost Tales and is very cute), but also wanted children of his own, so much so that he went behind Eru's and Yavanna's backs to create his Dwarves. In the end he got to keep them too, but he had to "put them away" to awaken later and they also live in Middle-earth and not with him (at least not in life).

So when Mahtan and Aulë grew close and started to hang out a lot, they probably got drunk one night and Mahtan confided in Aulë, saying that he'd love to have a child, to which Aulë is like "me too, bestie" and they decide to just have one together. Between Aulë's Ainurin shapeshifting and his apparent ability to just construct fully biologically functional bodies in his backyard, they did just fine and baby Nerdanel was born (I have the cutest mental image of a little girl sitting on the broad shoulders of her big strong forge dads).

Now Aulë and Mahtan decided to keep this a secret, probably because some sort of Valar rules may or may not have been bent a little in the process. What Yavanna would think of this depends on how everyone's own headcanons regarding Ainurin marriages, but it may be a bit embarrassing for her that her husband keeps procreating with either himself or other people who are not her. Also they don't want little Nerdanel to grow up being regarded as a weird cryptid.

So Mahtan proceeded to raise Nerdanel, acting like he totally had a thing with some woman somewhere, and Aulë supported them to the best of his ability, which mostly means teaching them cool stuff.

Nerdanel grew up looking like a normal Elf (huge relief for poor Mahtan), the main indicator of her Valarin heritage being that she's quite strong (she definitely picked up Fëanor and threw him over her shoulder constantly), carrying her statues around on her own without breaking a sweat. Aulë and Mahtan taught her the basics of smith-craft, but since sculpting is her passion, she switched to that and Aulë showed her some cool tricks with that instead.

Inevitably, Nerdanel started asking questions and one day found out the truth about her "mother". She then made Aulë and Mahtan promise that they'd all keep it secret because she wanted to be known and liked for being Nerdanel, not for being some experiment of Aulë's. They agreed and have kept their word. She also never told Fëanor, at first because she didn't want him to become interested in her only for her connection to Aulë and in the years after because she didn't want to damage their relationship. Fëanor remains unaware to this day, though is still impressed by his wife's strength, particularly when it came to doing what she does on top of carrying his sons.

So yeah, that's the idea. Nerdanel also shares some of her core traits with Aulë, such as being free of mind, thirsty for knowledge and strong-willed, but also patient. You could even see parallels between her relationship with Fëanor and Aulë's relationship with Yavanna, as Fëanor and Yavanna both have quite a temper and need a spouse who can take that.

#headcanons #my headcanons #nerdanel #mahtan #aule #aulë #silmarillion

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furbygoblinxiv · 1 year

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Ok now to be annoying about a completely different flavor of Zelda: That cartoon from the 80s that has aged so poorly I take psychic damage every time I watch it (which has been multiple times (I have problems)). A few months ago when rewatching and being sick of the Link's personality from the show (his best feature is how funny the "Well excuuuuse me, princess" line is) I was like "I wish the quiet kid from the games/art was here instead" and accidentally thought too hard and made an au/rewrite of the cartoon lmao.

Anyways Zelda cartoon au where cryptid boy Link saves the post apocalyptic Hyrule of loz 1 and chills in the castle with cartoon Zelda to defend the triforce pieces that they have while trying to find the last piece before Ganon can find it, stumbling across the sleeping loz 2 Zelda along the way lol. Hijinks ensue as he teaches Zelda the brawns to back up her girlboss and he gets an adventure buddy because its dangerous to go alone and Zelda with her boomerang and crossbow goes hard. I think a monster of the week style plot works for the earlier Zelda games, but an overarching plot could coexist with that since that is kinda how games work lol.

As per usual here are a bunch of slapdash barely related sketches of my ideas with my expanded thoughts below bc I think it'd be fun to share:

I look at the official art of Link being a quiet determined little dude with a backpack of tools and wish that that was represented more. Like look at him! What a guy! Imagine giving a quiet puzzle solving 14 year old a sword, lethal magical weapons, and a wasteland to explore! I would love a show about that! In terms of other characters, swap out that annoying fairy character, put in a Navi clone, at least Navi didn't have a crush on Link🤮. Ganon can stay the same so long as he was always a demon pig and was never a Gerudo man because unlike Nintendo, I do not want to imply that the only prominent man of color in the series has only one big braincell thats just screaming "EVIL" on loop. But! Keep Zelda the same, I love her so much in the cartoon, she's obnoxious in a slay girlboss way, maximum vibes. By virtue of not having a paper thin plot, most other characters that were fine get fixed by proxy.

I think plot wise? It takes place a few years after the first game. Initially, Link saved the royal family and they started rebuilding that area of Hyrule, and Link traveled around to help people. One day, Ganon's minions start making attacks on the castle to steal the triforce pieces back to revive him fully, and a Zelda who greatly admires Links steps up to defend the place. Eventually, Zelda requests Link return to help defend the castle while they search for the mysterious hidden third triforce piece in order to combine the full thing and wish for peace in Hyrule. Link agrees and the hyjinks begin.

IIRC the og Link backstory was that he was the son of the hyrulean queen and the elf king or smth? In the manga? I didn't want him to be hylian royalty but I wanted to keep that cryptid vibe, hence why I have him related instead to the great fairy and the kokiri. He just leaves the forest/cave one day with literally nothing to go save Hyrule, what a chad. I think it'd be funny if people describe Zelda as feral due to how boisterous and headstrong she is, especially out on the field, but Link is the quiet version of wild that you don't notice at first. She is openly intelligent and snarky in comparison to "says 3 lines a day, bombs first and asks questions later, explore under every rock and bush" forest kid Link.

It would be fun though if "rushes into danger" Zelda resonated more with the triforce of power and "solves dungeon puzzles for funsies" Link with the triforce of wisdom, then they both resonated with the triforce of courage upon finding it. idk tho lol

I also think two different young Zeldas coexisting with each other after one awoke from a cursed slumber would be really funny. Like that's gotta be so awkward, especially if one has the fighter girlboss slay up to 11 and the other just woke up from a coma to her family gone and her kingdom destroyed and just kinda wants to read books and drink tea in peace. Imagine being the same age or older than your great (great?) aunt. Or imagine if the old lady Impa nursemaid to Zelda 1 Zelda was the young Impa nursemaid to the Zelda 2 Zelda. Wild.

If I wasn't incapable of remembering to finish writing wips I'd write that series lol. Alas, this is all I can pull for now.

I'd love to call this propaganda to go watch the show but maybe don't because its yikes. This is moreso propaganda for someone to make a Zelda cartoon show instead of the movie that I sense Nintendo is plotting to make. Also, if you've read this far, I should mention I also will probably be posting art from some of my actual long term Zelda aus beyond just expanding on the cartoon, though I may continue to do that if my train of thought continues on these tracks.

#legend of zelda #loz #zelda cartoon #legend of zelda au #loz au #zelda cartoon au #zelda au #my art tag #actually yeah i think i WILL post more of my aus actually #to free myself from the shackles of cringe and also to do something with these huge documents sitting dormant on my drawing app

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