i point to a nearly empty room filled with thousands of pictures of joel smallishbeans
i am 26, i am a them, and swan is actually my real name mhm 100%
i am into hermitcraft now, so ... yeah
i guess you're probably here for something so here, my stuff i write
The Desired Ending AU
AO3 Link
A Traffic Light SMP AU where Grian is a Watcher who fell to earth to be with the souls he was meant to watch and is being punished for his choice. (vague scarian??)
Scar, once a trader by sea turned thief, finds himself in love with the man worth the most money in their town, who he had originally set out to rob.
Etho, meant to marry Grian to pay off a family debt, finds himself falling in love with an acrobat from a circus he's met only a handful of times.
Tango, a servant to Etho, finds himself falling in love with Jimmy - the youngest brother of a family of elites.
Ren, a wealthy man with hefty influence over the whole story, finds himself falling in love with his new servant.
Ethubs, Scarian, Treebark, Solidaritek (maybe more this is just a fun side project lol)
tagged as c!swan. android type previous television head with zero interpersonal skills and a desire for a sense of humanity theyāll never achieve
(Art by nuggets4fools)
Achilles, my fool
tagged as achilles (bsmp). space rock previous hive mind with one goal - destroy. the power of friendship made him something real and now heās just straight up sad. is it true that something like me could never love like you?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
wakes up from my two year hiatus to write stranger things fanfiction
Summary:
In November of 1983, Will Byers is presumed dead.
In June of 1985, he returns to Hawkins with no memory of the nearly two years he's been missing.
His friends work to help him return to the land of the living, but it seems his return brings with it a new darkness over their lives.
Chapter One: Heat Haze Days
The heavy haze of the summer sun leaked through the half cracked blinds in Mike Wheelerās bedroom, forcing him to yank his covers up and over his head to protect himself from its light. Awake now, he could hear the sounds of his sisters going about the morning down the hall, loud and uncaring for his sleep- or lack there of. He let out a low grumble and dug around in his covers for a pillow to cover his head, trying his best to block out the world and drift back into the sanctuary of his dreams.
āMichael.ā His bedroom door was opened, and his motherās voice penetrated through his pillow blockade, āYour father and I are taking Nancy and Holly to the mall. Do you want to join us?ā There was this gross hopefulness to her voice that made his stomach feel tight. But even with that, they both knew the answer.
āNo.ā He responded, trying his hardest to hold his pillow closer to his ear to block her out.
She sighed, and to his dismay he could still hear it, āI just think, Michael, that it would be nice if you got out of bed and did something-ā
Mike sat up then, glaring across the room at his mother, āYou told me I could sleep in during the summer if I had a B- average, and I supplied. Hold up your end of the deal, mom.ā And he threw himself back down under the blankets.
There was a long silence in the room but his door didnāt close, and he was sure he was about to get drilled into for talking back.
āFine.ā She settled on though, āBut⦠if you go anywhere, leave a note, alright?ā That tinge to her voice, that sweet hope that this summer would be different than the last hit him like a brick. But they both knew the truth was that he was going nowhere. Itās not like he really had anywhere to go, or anyone to see.
Not since Will died.
āKay.ā He grumbled, and curled up tight on himself to let her know he was done with the conversation. Another sigh left her lips, but with it the door to his room finally closed, and he was finally alone.
Eventually he heard the sound of his front door opening and closing, and the family car pulling away. A silence that could only be achieved when both of his sisters left the house crept carefully into his room, and he tossed his blankets away from himself and stared up at the ceiling.
He was awake now, and there was no going back to sleep, so he'd at least take advantage of an empty house. He pulled himself out of bed and trudged down to the kitchen, pouring himself a massive bowl of cereal and taking all the time he wanted at the toaster, no Nancy breathing over his shoulder and commenting on the number of slices on his plate. Triumphant in his breakfast choices, he made his way down to the basement, his one and only sanctuary left in Hawkins.
The last place he saw Will.
After a brief struggle to rearrange his desk and set his tidings down, he settled into his chair and snagged his book, ready to lock in and get to writing yet another campaign that would not be played. His notebook was filled to the brim with stories and ideas, worlds for his friends to play in, but... he didn't really have friends anymore.
He raised his eyes to look at the old corkboard above his desk, the picture of Dustin, Lucas, Will and himself staring back down at him. Since Will died, their party had fallen apart. Some part of Mike would like to think they were still friends - in school they'd talk, and even sit with each other at lunch, but... there was nothing beyond that.
It was partially his fault.Ā But it was also theirs.Ā Mike choose to ignore them for the most part, because they'd gone ahead and replaced Will with some loud mouth red head who appeared in his absence named Max. And when he stressed his disagreement with that choice, they went and replaced him with a strange girl named Jane that Dustin had somehow managed to hit it off with. He wasn't going to wrap himself up in their new party if they refused to admit all they were doing was replacing his -Ā theirĀ - friend.
He took a large spoonful of cereal and shoved it into his mouth as his eyes betrayed him and drifted to the other side of the board, where a singular news article was hung, much against his mother's continuous pleading he take it down.
'Hawkins boy feared dead after believed hit and run'Ā was the headline, and right below it was the shattered image of Will's bike on the side of the road. Mike dug his teeth into the metal of the spoon, the now well known feeling of dread bubbling up into his throat as he thought about his best friend and what probably happened to him, and how he could do absolutely nothing about it.
With an angered breath he yanked the spoon away from his mouth and tried his hardest to focus on the blank page of his notebook. All he wanted to do was distract himself from these swirling, dark feelings. His friends had left him. Will was gone. Everyone had moved on from the Fall of 1983, but Mike was stuck there. He feared he'd always be stuck there.
In attempt to rewire his brain he grabbed a piece of toast and took an awfully loud, crunchy bite. He squinted his brows together in confusion as even through his chews he still could hear the strange crunch, until he slowly stopped his jaw and realized the noise wasn't coming from the bread - it was coming from the walkie talkie stationed just behind him.Ā A static buzz.
He slowly turned in his chair to look, eyes wide and unsure. The only reason that device should be making any sort of noise would be...
"Mike?"
The voice that came through the radio was distorted and heavy with static, but Mike would know it anywhere. He flung himself towards the walkie talkie and fumbled to pick it up and respond, bringing it close to his mouth and sputtering, "Will?"
There was silence. Almost too much silence, and Mike just about talked himself into believing he'd just been hearing things, because there was just no way Will was somehow talking to him now through the walkie talkie he'd left in Castle Byers just in case. Just in case, by some miracle, he'd come back. He slowly lowered his hand down and rubbed at his brow, feeling stupid for even allowing himself to imagine such a stupid thought -
"Mike, I need your help." Will came through again then, his voice more solid now, more real, "I don't know-" heavy noise distorted the call,Ā "I hurt my leg. I think I got lost and-" static cut through, garbling whatever Will was saying, and Mike shook the old piece of junk around to try and hear, "-nobody else was picking up."
Whatever sort of disbelief was swirling around Mike's head was fogging any thought he had to respond. Was this real? WasĀ WillĀ real? Was someone playing a really sick joke right now? He found himself gripping the plastic of the device tightly, trying to ground himself, trying to make this reality actually be happening.
"Mike? Are you there?" Will's voice was riddled with confusion, desperation. It finally triggered something in Mike's brain, and he yanked his hand back up to respond.
"Yeah- I'm here. I'm here. Just stay where you are, Will, I'll be right there." He said, and then, just to make sure, "You- you're in Castle Byers, right?"
"Where else would I be?" Will laughed a bit, and the sound of it made the hair on Mike's neck stand up, because it was real. Will was real. That laugh couldn't just be replicated.
He took off up the stairs, tripping over his feet one too many times in his effort to hurry and put on real clothes, "Okay. Stay put. Don't move. Okay- promise me you won't move."
"I- okay. I promise?" Will replied, and Mike finally let go of the walkie talkie to throw on a shirt and toss together a bag. He didn't know what sort of state Will might be in, what he might need, and he began to just grab random things from around his room and just about anywhere in the house. Extra clothes, a first aid kit, granola bars- he paused in the kitchen, staring down a knife, wondering if maybe he should take it, but- decided against it, not even sure where the hell he'd put it, and he dashed out the garage door.
Despite every bone in his body screaming at him to stay on Will's channel, he had to let someone else know this. He got himself peddling down the main road before switching to Lucas's channel and attempting contact - only to be met with silence. He changed again, this time to Dustin, and when there was nothing in return he let out an annoyed sigh and attempted Max.
"Max - this is Mike. Do you have a copy?" He spit out through clenched teeth, not totally happy about having to reach out to her. At first there was nothing, and he was just about to give up when suddenly, static picked up.
"Hi, Mike."
He didn't really know the voice very well, but he blinked until the dots connected, "I- Jane?"
Jane was the newest kid in school. She was adopted by the Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, and most people found her to be an absolute odd ball. Mike had heard rumors that her mother was some crazy broad that had kept Jane locked away for years before someone, somewhere saved her, and that was why she was so backwards. They'd not talked much, but when they did, she was nice. It made him feel bad that he didn't like her.
"Max says you can lose her number." Jane came back over the air, and Mike bit his tongue to not come back at them with an insult.
"Okay-Ā one, this isn't a number, and two, tell Max that this is important. It's about Will." He snapped, taking a corner too sharp and almost tumbling off his bike in the process. He caught himself last minute and readjusted, waiting for a response before he took off again. He'd be faster once he wasn't dealing with this.
Max spoke this time, "What do you mean, aboutĀ Will." She sounded annoyed, which annoyed Mike, and he shook the walkie talkie as if it was her for a moment.
"Can you tell Dustin and Lucas to meet me at Castle Byers. Tell them it's super important. They won't answer me." He did his best to keep his voice calm despite wanting to throttle the girls through the speaker.
"I can relay your message." Max said, "But what do we say when we want something?"
Mike couldn't wait for the next time he saw Max, hoping she'd bring her skateboard so he could trip her right off of it, "Can youĀ pleaseĀ tell Dustin and Lucas to meet me at Castle Byers." He took a deep breath in,Ā "Please, Max."
There was a sincerity to his voice that nobody had heard in over a year, and that Max had never heard in her life, and so she quietly responded, "Okay."
Mike took her word and switched back to Will's channel, "Five minutes, I'm on the way."
There was no reply, and Mike dropped the walkie talkie in his backpack and took off as fast as his legs would allow him. He flew down the old country roads towards the Byers house, blowing right past the memorial that rest on the side of the road for Will. He glanced its way but had no time to stop. Not with what was on the line.
He reached the path that lead off the road and rode until his bike couldn't make it anymore, too many roots and not enough foot traffic in the time since Will's disappearance to warrant the plants being trampled. He abandoned his bike and rushed towards the space, the route he'd never forget in a million years. Eventually he came to the clearing, breathing heavily and staring at the well overgrown fort before him.
The tattered American flag fluttered in the soft summer breeze. Mike found his throat getting tight. What if this was just some - some crazy delusion he'd brewed up in his brain? In his dreams sometimes he'd find Will alive, and he'd feel happy again. But those were dreams, and dreams weren't reality. He'd seen the remains of Will's bike in person.
"Nobody could survive that." Hopper had said, unaware Mike was behind a nearby tree, listening as the crime scene photos were taken and they buried Will there an then, with no body.
Mike ran his hand down his face, pulling on his lips, trying to calm down. He just had to see. What good was standing still getting him?
With heavy feet he crept around the side of the fort and slowly glanced through the main entrance. His heart flew into his throat as his eyes locked upon him- upon Will, sitting in the one corner, nursing his leg and staring off into space.
He looked different. His hair was longer, below his ears, and was oddly well maintained. He was thin and pale and the whole left side of his face was etched with a burn scar, like someone had thrown boiling water on him. He was in plain clothes and his right leg was clearly twisted at the ankle. Mike took all of him in before allowing himself to finally get excited, throwing himself into Castle Byers and at his friend, hugging him close and tight.
"Will.Ā Will.Ā Oh my God." He clung to the other boy with the strength of a thousand hugs, sure he'd slip through his fingers if he didn't hold on tight enough.
Will hugged him back, laughing into his shoulder, "Mike- Mike you're gonna crush me. Actually, you are crushing me."
Despite not wanting to pull away, for the sake of Will breathing, Mike let himself move back, but kept his hands firmly on Will's shoulders. Will looked at him with a smile that slowly faded into confusion, and he reached his hand up to touch at Mike's hair.
"When did you... how'd your hair get so long?" He asked, and his nose scrunched up the way it does when you're trying not to cry, "I thought... I thought everything around here looked- looked different, Mike, what..."
"It's okay. It's okay, Will. You're okay." Mike squeezed his shoulders, "You- you've been missing, okay? But it's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."
Will's face dropped even further, now a serious dread smearing across his features, "Missing? What do you mean? How long have I beenĀ missing?" He shook his head, and his voice grew in desperation with each passing word, "I just fell off my bike- I fell off my bike and I was- I was confused but I didn't- I didn't goĀ missing!"
Mike didn't know what to say. How to make what was happening any better. He opened his mouth and then closed it, no words in mind to calm Will down. He felt like a failure, and the same disgusted feeling he'd experienced when he watched them haul Will's bike away began to fall into him, knowing then and now there was nothing he could do-
"Holy shit." A voice from behind him saved the day, and standing in the entrance to the fort was one absolutely shocked Lucas. Behind him Mike could see Max with her hands clasped over her mouth and her eyes wide in shock.
Dustin shoved Lucas out of the way to look in, and then ducked down to rush in and push his way close to Will, hugging him tight the same way Mike had, "Will! Will, you-Ā Will!"
Mike watched Lucas scramble in then and join in on the hug, and Will's scared face bled into a sad one as he tucked into the comfort of his friends. A dark part of Mike wanted to be angry with them, and he could feel it starting to boil up in the back of his throat.Ā They'dĀ been the ones to give up on Will. They'd gone out of their way this last year toĀ replaceĀ him. Now here they were, acting like they'd cared all this time? He knew the truth, and he went to let it all out -- but just as he opened his mouth someone laid a calm hand on his shoulder.
He whipped his head towards the source, finding Jane knelt beside him with worry spread all across her face, "Are you okay?" She asked, her voice soft and calm. Mike blinked away the feelings that were swelling around him, and a sort of shame took their place. He cleared his throat and nodded his head, flexing his shoulders and knocking her hand away.
Jane watched him for a moment longer, almost as if she was making sure he wouldn't explode on the spot, before glancing towards Max, "I should get my dad." She said, and Max was quick to nod her head.
"You guys stay here. We'll get help." Max took Jane's hand and the two of them hurried back towards the Byers house. Mike watched until he couldn't see them anymore before turning back to Will.
Dustin and Lucas had moved off of him by now, and he was sat wiping away confused tears. It was clear nobody knew what to say. The wall that Mike had built between Dustin and Lucas was tall and thick, and it's presence in the tight space of Castle Byers could not be ignored. He wanted to melt into the ground and just have this whole moment stop, too many feelings engulfing him.
"How long?" Will spoke then, and he sniffled as he looked between the three of them, "How long have I been gone?"
Dustin and Lucas shared a look, and then they both looked to Mike, knowing he was the best person to answer that. Mike licked his lips and did his best to not let his voice crack under the pressure, "A... a little over a year." He settled on, knowing very well it had been 599 days on the dot. He'd never stopped counting.
"Oh." Will's face broke and he was quick to hide his tears, his hands flying up to cover his face. Dustin and Lucas were on him right away, consoling him with gentle hands on his back and promises that everything was going to be okay.
Mike could only watch as his friend cried, and he wondered if that really was the truth. If everything was okay. Because despite five hundred and ninety nine days of not feeling okay, Will was back in front of him, and...
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
āYou gave up!ā The King spat across then, āYou didnāt want this life. You didnāt want this body. You donāt get to just change your mind!ā
Swan shook their head then, āIt wasnāt yours to steal in the first place.ā
The pair of fools stared across empty space at each other, both hating the air the other was breathing while both needing it to exist.
MY BLORBOS HOW THEY HATE EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY ARE EACH OTHER!!!!!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
āDonāt you think this body deserves better?ā
every day I am lucky enough @setacin draws my pathetic little guy so cool because theyāre really a wet rag pretending to be a cool evil king⦠(SHAFT STUDIOS HEAD TILT)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Mayor Mumbo Kidnapped for the Seventeenth Time; Exclusive Story Here
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY @em-mermaid FROM ME YOUR VALENTINE
this is my first time writing redscape so of course i did a superhero thing :p
(i also had to be the first one to post you know how it be)
A03
It happened again.Ā
Mumbo wished he could say that heād stopped his counting, but the truth was, he knew how many times now heād been kidnapped. It was seventeen. Seventeen times in three months, to be exact.Ā
The worst part of all of this wasnāt even that heād been snatched so many times; it was just that heād been snatched in such a boring manner so many times, it was getting sort of sad.Ā
He knew the reason this kept happening to him, (and the reason he didnāt quite mind it kept happening to him), and that was the fact that Hotguy kept coming to rescue him every. Single. Time.Ā
Once it had happened twice, the word spread. If you kidnap the mayor, Hotguy will come to his rescue within hours. Want your free chance at getting the number one hero in the whole city? Snatch the mayor out of his bed for the fifth time and threaten his mustache.Ā
There had been a few times that things had been more exciting and less painfully boring; around number seven, heād been yanked right off the floor in the middle of a speech, pulled up through the rafters by mechanical arms and out the ceiling. That was fun, significantly more than this go around, where his office had simply been broken into when he was staying over late to do paperwork.Ā
The boredom grew with most of these ābad guysā and their āevilā plans. He couldnāt believe the number of times heād heard āuse Hotguyās abilities to take over the city⦠and then the world!ā Or āgain control of the one who controls the Hermits!ā He felt more bad that Hotguy had to deal with these low level punks with no originality in their minds.Ā
He had to admit - It was sort of his own fault this kept happening. Sure; the bad guys knew he was a direct shot at Hotguy. But heād also straight up refused protection. After the fourth time, Grian had sat him down with an organized plan on a rotating cast of heroes from the Hermit League who would help protect him from these repeated attacks. However,Ā
āI donāt see much of Hotguy on here.ā He said out loud, without really meaning to say it. Grianās brows rose to the top of his head and then smushed together in a look of confusion.Ā
āHeās busy, Mumbo. Heās the leader of the whole organization.ā He responded.Ā
Mumbo popped his lips, āI thought you were the leader.āĀ
āOn paper, sure. But Hotguy is our face, heās our name. People know who I am behind the mask; they donāt know him. Heās the real definition of a hero. Youāre the mayor, you know this,ā Grian waved his hand out back towards the window, āWe could poll twenty people now and over half of them would choose him over me.āĀ
Mumbo found himself back on the schedule and let out a small huff. Joel, False, Etho, Grian, Pearl- one a day, always at his side, always with him, and⦠no more consistent Hotguy in his life.Ā
That was dramatic. It wasnāt like they didnāt see each other. He was the mayor and Hotguy was the most popular hero on the roster. Events, award ceremonies, the works- they were often in a room together, but not so often⦠alone.Ā
It was sad to admit that the reason he didnāt mind being kidnapped time and time again was the moments after, when Hotguy and him would be all alone. Sitting on a rooftop somewhere as Hotguy assured Grian of Mumboās safety, with the city asleep or so far away it didnāt matter. When they got to be alone.Ā
When Hotguy would untie or uncuff him, and softly rub at his skin where the bindings had dug in, or when heād scoop Mumbo away from any danger and hold him, and heād get so close he could smell him, feel him breathing. Feel the heat coming from his body.Ā
Hotguy laughed a lot more around him when they were alone, and he loved the sound of his laugh. A lot.Ā
He knew he was being selfish, and honestly quite silly, but the words came out of his mouth on their own as he slid the paper back towards Grian, āNo thanks.āĀ
āWha- huh?ā Grianās mouth hung open, and his eyes went down to his plan and then back to his friend, āYouāve been kidnapped four times. You lost a finger last time, Mumbo!āĀ
Mumbo held his hand up, showing the robotic appendage that now replaced the flesh heād lost, āItās fixed. Iām the mayor, itās only to be expected that things like this happen. Besides; I like my⦠routine, my, uh⦠personal time.āĀ
Grian didnāt respond, but he had a lot of thoughts clearly swirling around in his mind that were simply etched into his face. Mainly annoyance.Ā
Mumbo slowly lowered his hand, āI donāt need Joel in my personal business.āĀ
Grianās disgruntled sound of disapproval rang in his ears, but, well- he knew heād done this to himself. And so what-Ā
He liked the attention. He liked the time that he got to spend with Hotguy. He liked everything about it, and he wasnāt going to pretend that he didnāt. If sitting in boredom with another useless comic villain meant heād get an hour alone with Hotguy every other day or so, heād suffer through it.Ā
His head fell back against the chair he was tightly tied to, and his eyes found themselves locked on the window. He watched as the moon slowly drifted across the sky, knowing with each second he was growing closer and closer to seeing Hotguy again.Ā
The annoying sound of footsteps caught his ears, and he lifted his head slowly to glance at the villain who had snatched him this time slowly approaching, an annoyed look all over his face. He was the same as most of them - young, scruffy, with too much anger and not enough brains. Mumbo almost felt bad for him.
Mumbo hefted himself into a better sitting position, āWhatās the face for, then?āĀ
The bad guy seemed shocked he was being talked to, and he slowly looked over at Mumbo and then back to the door, āWhere is your savior? They all say he comes within two hours; weāre passing four.ā
āYouāre telling me.ā Mumbo sighed, flexing his shoulders around some, uncomfortable, āBut you did kidnap me around midnight on a Tuesday. Heās not on patrol and really, who would be looking for me? Think logistically.āĀ
His captor looked maybe disgusted, but certainly annoyed, at that comment. Mumbo sucked his lips in, folding a grimace away. He often just spoke, without thinking. It was the reason he was down a finger, certainly. But, despite the number of times heād been in this scenario, other than the appendage, he hadnāt really been injured. Sure, rope burns, some bruises, a handful of cuts. More often than not, though, the persons who had any interest in snatching him up had no intentions to harm him; only Hotguy.Ā
He was a relatively liked mayor. Or he liked to think. To the fools that kept kidnapping him, he was just a tool to get to Hotguy, and it was better to keep him alive and unharmed. Or so he assumed.Ā
āWhat makes you so special, anyway?ā His captor asked then, crossing his arms and glaring at Mumbo, āI donāt think anyone else in the city would get such treatment as you.ā He slowly began a pace around the mayor, looking him up and down, āAre you two an item?āĀ
Mumbo sputtered out in shock, trying to make it look like such a comment was ridiculous beyond all, but he could feel his ears growing red and his cheeks burning, āIām the mayor.ā
āYeah, and every time someone snags you, the only hero who bothers to rush to your aid is him. Youāve got a whole team of superpowered freaks to rescue you, and the only one who canāt even hold his breath a moment, make a plan, who crashes through walls and doors to find you - is Hotguy.ā His captor moved in close, sort of smirking at him, āWoooow. The mayor and the cities number one. What a story.ā
There was a thick lump in his throat, but he turned his face away quickly, āI hate to disappoint you, but itās his job to rescue me. And he takes his job seriously. Thatās as far as it goes - he and I, that is just⦠silly.āĀ
A pause came over the room for a moment, but then his captor began to laugh, right in his ear, āOh- so you like him, but he doesnāt like you back, then?āĀ
The words stung worse than the feeling of getting his finger cut off, and he didnāt like it one bit. It was strange to be forced to look his reality right in the face. Of course he liked Hotguy, and of course Hotguy only saw him as a part of his job. As a part of protecting their city. There wasnāt any connection there beyond that, regardless of how much Mumbo pretended there could be, or let himself get continuously kidnapped to trick himself into believing there was. Pathetic, really.
He was so lost in thought he almost didnāt notice the sudden sharp pain that exploded in his stomach. A gasp left his lips as his head lowered to try and figure out what just happened, and he felt himself grow stiff when he saw the handle of a thick blade jutting out of his skin. His eyes slowly rose to meet his captorās own, and the man gave him an almost tender smile,Ā
āWell, if he likes you back at all, thisāll prove it, wonāt it?ā He prosed, patting his hand on Mumboās cheek, āIf he reacts to you bleeding out, youāll know you mean something. If not, then- well, youāll know youāre just a thorn in his side.āĀ
In one quick motion the knife was ripped out of his stomach then, and Mumbo screamed out in pain as his white button up became increasingly red. Mumbo wasnāt sure what was more shocking to him- the fact heād actually been stabbed, or the pain. To the first, nobody had ever really cared to bring him harm. Theyād all been much more focused on their end goal to worry about him.Ā
To the second, heād never experienced anything like this before. The finger had hurt, but not quite like this, not so deep in his body. He let out a gasp for air he didnāt realize he was holding in as his captor lifted his head to force their eyes to lock.
āYouāre just flesh and blood, after all. Youāre not special like the rest of them. Something like this could easily kill you.ā The other man spoke before running the knife along Mumboās cheek, smearing his face with his own blood, āYou can thank me later, if you make it.ā and then he walked off, leaving Mumbo alone with those thoughts and the agony.Ā
The worst part was, Mumbo knew that the man who had just stabbed him was right. He was, realistically, just a thorn in the side of the city, of its number one hero. All because he had a pathetic little bit of a crush on him. He deserved all this- from turning Grianās protection down to putting himself in situations he could easily get kidnapped, this was what heād asked for.Ā
āMumbo.āĀ
He almost hoped that heād just die before Hotguy even arrived. It would make this whole situation much better for him, after all. No embarrassment, no having to go and grovel to Grian for what he turned down, just- the release of-
āMumbo!ā His head was shaken a bit, and he gasped for air at the feeling of a hand tight on his chin, pulling him from his misery and back into reality, back into⦠Hotguyās arms. He couldnāt guess how much time had passed, but he was no longer tied up, and he felt safe in the warmth heād come to nearly desire from Hotguy.Ā
āHey- hey, there you are.ā Hotguy said, his grip on Mumboās chin quickly softening, āI just need you to stay awake, okay, Mumbo?āĀ
Hotguyās hand was gentle on his face, soothing in the situation as the pain came back, and Mumbo found himself whimpering in the agony of it all. Mumbo realized Hotguyās hand was moving softly against his cheek, wiping away the blood that had been left there previously. It was comforting and⦠very nice, actually, and he couldnāt help but lean into the feeling to try and ignore the pain.Ā
āTook you long enough, huh?ā Mumbo mumbled out, squinting his eyes up at Hotguy, who didnāt find the humor in it. Even behind his full face mask, Mumbo could see the worry etched into his face. The absence of his laugh stung.
Hotguy pulled him closer, adjusting how they were sitting to better hold Mumbo.
āIf joking is going to keep you awake, then- joke away.ā Hotguy finally returned, moving his hand away for a moment to wipe away the blood and then quickly return it to Mumboās face, āHelp is on the way, alright?āĀ
His voice was extremely calming, and Mumbo let out a small hum as he listened, trying to decide what to do. There was a part of him, the selfish part that had gotten him here in the first place, screaming against the bars of its cage for him to ask. Just ask. What harm could it do? He was bleeding out in the guyās arms, after all.Ā
āIāll stay awake,ā he whispered, bringing his hand slowly up to rest on Hotguyās own, āIf you show me your face.ā It was a lie, because with each second Mumbo was feeling more and more exhausted- but, hell, if he was going to die, he wanted to go out with this. One more selfish act.Ā
There was a moment of silence. A debate was happening within Hotguy, and Mumbo couldnāt really blame him. He almost opened his mouth to take it back, regret already pouring in, but Hotguy moved his free hand up and yanked the mask back off his face, dropping it beside them.Ā
He was⦠handsome. That was certainly the first word that came to Mumboās head. Someone he didnāt know, which made plenty of sense, given heād been so particular about his secret identity up to this point; why would he hang around the mayor as a civilian?Ā
Back to the handsome thing, though, because it was very much at the front of his mind. Big green eyes, wracked with worry, were locked on his face. Tan skin, a thick head of scruffy brown hair, a flickering of old wounds across his face that really made him look just⦠incredible. Everything Mumbo had imagined in his many, many fantasies about what was behind that mask, and well- then some.Ā
āWow.ā He giggled a bit, blaming the childish noise on the blood loss, āYouāre handsome.āĀ
āI- thank you.ā Hotguy returned, and a redness came over his face that made Mumbo smile. He didnāt know if this whole interaction was even real, or just some near death fever dream. He didnāt know if Hotguy was showing him this because he felt bad Mumbo was dying, or if, maybe⦠he wanted to show him. That those rooftop excursions and the way Hotguyās breath would catch when Mumbo clung to him actually, truly meant something.
Either way, it was nice.Ā
He pressed his luck once again, still blaming his burst of confidence on the lack of blood and the dying thing, āWhatās your name? Itās surely not Hotguy, yeah?āĀ
āScar.ā There was no hesitation this time, just a gentle and quick return, āMy name is Scar.āĀ
Woof. Mumbo realized this situation must be more dire than he expected if Hotguy- Scar- was handing out this information to him so easily. Given how tired he felt, he figured it was probably going to end poorly for him, and Scar just felt bad he was going to die. Made plenty of sense to him.Ā
A dead man knowing your name meant nothing.Ā
āThatās a nice name⦠it suits you.ā He pulled his hand away from where it was resting atop of Scarās to press his own thumb against one of the healing wounds on Scarās face, āBetter than Hotguy. Rolls nicely off the tongue.āĀ
Scar closed his eyes when Mumbo touched his face, and if Mumbo had been less nearly dead, he would have noticed Scar leaning into his touch. But he didnāt, and a sharp pang of pain blistered through his body and his hands flung down towards the wound, which had a patch job done by Scar already that was soaked heavily by his blood.Ā
āRight bastard, stabbing meā¦ā he joked again, trying to fight the pain away.Ā
āI never worry.ā Mumboās face shifted into a smile, āNot with you to protect me.ā
Scar responded, but Mumbo felt himself start to slip away under the lure of sleep. He was so tired, and everything just hurt so bad; it felt like the right thing to do. He could feel Scar stiffen as his eyes shut, and there was the muffled sound of his voice in his ears, but - it all went dark.Ā
āĀ
āIt happened again.āĀ
The steady sound of the monitor that reminded Scar everything was okay was interrupted by Grianās harsh tone. He forced himself into a sitting position in the chair heād situated next to the hospital bed Mumbo was in, turning his head slowly to face his friend, waiting for the verbal beating he was about to receive.Ā
āHow many times did I tell you- convince him he needed proper protection. Not just you swooping in at the last minute.ā Grianās arms were crossed, and his tone was angry, āI told you this would happen eventually.āĀ
āI know.ā Scar admitted, having already had enough time in the quiet of the hospital room to lament over his selfish mistake. Grian sighed in response, unable to continue to be so angry when Scar sounded like such a kicked puppy.Ā
Scar found himself looking back at Mumbo, watching him slowly breathe in and out, his face somehow paler than normal. The team had arrived just in time to save him, but heād still lost a lot of blood. Plenty of bed rest was ahead of him. But he was alive, and for that Scar couldnāt be happier. Despite everything heād done wrong; Mumbo was going to be okay.
āYou showed him, didnāt you?ā Grian asked him then, leaning against a nearby wall, āYour mask was all screwed up when we got there.āĀ
There were very few people who knew his identity. Grian was one, despite the lie he told everyone that he didnāt know. It was just easier for Scar this way, to separate himself from it. To protect his day to day life from who he was under the mask. To try and find some normalcy in the life he had that he never asked for.Ā
āHe asked.ā Scar responded after a moment.Ā
Grian rolled his eyes, āAnd Joel has asked you maybe three hundred thousand times. Mumbo asks once, and you bend?āĀ
āHe was bleeding to death in my arms.ā Scar harshly returned, taking a deep breath at the tone of his voice, āIt was the least I could do.āĀ
Things drew quiet. Grian was watching him with his brows raised, unmoved by Scarās outburst, already aware of what feelings had bloomed between his two friends since the first time Mumbo had been kidnapped. Heād have to not have eyes or a brain to not realize what had taken over the two of them; love.Ā
Scar also knew, at least on his side of things, that he loved Mumbo. Countless nights of checking in on him, rescuing him from the clutches of idiots who used him to try and hurt Scar - it had shown a light on the mayor Scar didnāt see before. Mumbo was kind, he was funny, and above all else, he was handsome as hell.Ā
He liked the time heād sort of forced into existence with Mumbo. He liked beating up the fools who took him. The gratitude and happiness that would bloom from Mumbo every time made him keep his mouth shut when Grian had pushed about getting a proper form of protection on the books for Mumbo.Ā
āGo home and change.ā Grian said then, āCome back looking normal.āĀ
Scar lifted his head to frown at Grian, āNo chance. I canāt show up as myself to his hospital room, you know how suspicious that would be?āĀ
āYouāve put him in plenty of danger already, havenāt you?ā The words stung as they hit Scar one after the other. He knew it was the truth, but that didnāt make him feel any better. It didnāt make the situation any different. Grian clearly regretted saying them, but they both knew it was true.Ā
With a sigh he stood up, āIām leaving- just⦠not coming back. Tell him I wish him a speedy recoveryā¦āĀ
Grian didnāt stop him.Ā
Scar knew it was probably all for the better. Better he cut this silly game with Mumbo off before it got any worse. As fun as it had been to save him time and time again, and have Mumbo thank him, hold onto him, praise him- all heād managed to do in the end was hurt him.Ā
He glanced back one last time at Mumbo, but then forced himself to keep walking. This was for the better.Ā
ā
It was a quiet day at the Curiosity Shop. Scar liked it that way, liked when he got to be by himself with his mess of obscure things. The silence gave him time to work on fixing old machines, broken toys, anything that came into his hands. Currently he found himself situated over a watch that had long since stopped ticking away the time, pulling the pieces out one by one to try and find what had gone wrong.Ā
He found comfort in the redundancy and the simplicity of these tasks. It was much different from the messes heād throw himself into as Hotguy; so he took all these moments and clung to them when he could. If anything, it was a good distraction from all the mess heād made over these last few months. He knew Mumbo was safe, and in recovery, and that was what mattered.Ā
Things would return to normal for him now, and heād leave his little fantasy behind, because Mumbo would be safe.Ā
A jangle rang through the shop as someone entered. He let out a small sigh, but kept his focus on the watch for now; if he was needed, heād be found ā and much to his dismay, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching his spot behind the counter.Ā
āWelcome to Scarās Curiosity and Scavenge Shop. How can I help you?ā He asked, still without looking up from his project.Ā
āAh, well⦠I was told by a friend I could find what I was looking for here.āĀ
The voice was all that he needed to realize who was standing in front of him. He slowly lifted his eyes to find Mumbo before him, a nervous smile on his face. Scar slowly lowered his tools down to the counter below, unsure of what to do or say. His eyes moved towards the entrance, and he found Joel hanging around by the door, looking bored but clearly eavesdropping on whatever was about to go down.Ā
āMum⦠Mr. Mayor.ā Scar cleared his throat and snagged his cane to heft himself up, offering his other hand across the counter for Mumbo, who immediately gave him a look that read āseriously?ā
āAre you really trying to shake my hand right now?ā Mumbo glanced down at Scarās extended hand and then back up at his face with a humored grin, āI think weāre beyond that, arenāt we?āĀ
Scar swallowed back a lump that had formed in his throat, feeling seriously sick with this sudden confrontation. He was sure he was about to get a cold rejection of some kind, despite never even asking for anything from Mumbo. His reality, his little silly shop of junk and small apartment, it was all sort of pathetic, and if Mumbo knew what he was really like - what Hotguy was really like - the fantasy heād let himself live in these past few months was truly gone. If Mumbo rejected him, he couldnāt even pretend.Ā
He lowered his hand slowly, taking a heavy breath in to try and force away the tight feeling in his throat, chest, and stomach, āSorry, uh- youāre the mayor, after all, I justā¦āĀ
āThe mayor whose life youāve saved countless times.ā Mumbo responded, crossing his arms over his chest.Ā
āWell- no. Hotguy did thatā¦ā Scar sucked his lips in after he said it, keeping his voice very low, āIām just Scar, soā¦ā His eyes moved in the direction of the front door, where Joel was still lurking.Ā
Mumbo looked unamused by Scarās words, and he turned his head to Joel and gave him one quick wave of the hand to tell him to go. There was a serious frown that came across Joelās face, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Mumbo was quick on the draw, āJust go stand outside, would you?ā
Joel practically pouted, but he stepped outside with a heavy grumble. Mumbo watched him exit, but then slowly turned his head back, āOkay, can we drop the silly⦠act?ā He asked, āI came to thank you for saving me.āĀ
āOh- anytime. You know that.ā Scar scrubbed at the back of his head, āI see you finally took up Grianās suggestion of a, uh⦠body guard. So - thatās good. Not that itās bad, not that I wouldnāt have kept coming for you, cause. You know.ā His words came out a jumbled mess, and with each one he felt like more of a total fool. He cleared his throat, trying desperately to get that tightness to go away.
āDo I⦠know?ā Mumbo asked after a moment of quiet. His tone indicated he was not just asking about Scar rescuing him, but clearly much more. Asking if there was something more there.Ā
Scar opened his mouth and then closed it. He wasnāt sure what to say. If he did tell Mumbo the truth, would that rejection heād feared come to fruition? But, then again-Ā
He was the one who had saved Mumbo. Every single time, heād busted through whatever door or wall that had separated the two of them. Every time, Mumbo had clung to him, heād had his hands on his waist, on his small back, gosh - heād held him bridal style a handful of times. And every time - every single time - Mumbo had looked at him with such genuine admiration, Scar had let himself think that it meant something.Ā
āYou know how Grian sort of just tends to say whatever is on his mind?ā Mumbo asked him when the silence started to feel heavy, āHe told me that he realized the two of us had been doing that whole⦠kidnapping mess⦠because we just wanted to be around each other.ā He drummed his fingers on the counter, and Scar watched his thin digits move one at a time, the robotic pointer finger making a slightly extra bit of movement, āAnd while I donāt know if that is true for you, I can at least tell you⦠that it was true for me.āĀ
Rejection, or the idea of it, started to flood away from Scar at that moment. He lifted his gaze from Mumboās hand to meet his eyes again, smiling just the slightest bit, as Mumbo continued, āHe said I was pretty silly for letting myself get nabbed time and time again just to see you, when I am the mayor, and I can sort of just⦠ask.āĀ
āAsk what?ā Scar cleared his throat, and finally the cursed tightness went away, almost as if it was vanquished by the soft and sweet look that had come over Mumboās face.Ā
Mumbo leaned over the counter just a bit, āAsk you to be around me more, I suppose he meant. But what Iād like to do is ask you on a date, I think. And before you get into āScarā and āHotguyā again, Iām asking both of you, so- none of that.āĀ
Scar couldnāt hold back the smile that came to his face. It was massive, and he was ecstatic, leaning forward some himself to meet the mayor just about halfway, the two of them inches apart. There had been many times in his rescues that theyād been like this, lips inches apart, but there had always been his mask there, and theyād always pulled away when theyād realized what they were doing. Whatever silly sort of fear had wrapped around them seemed to finally dissolve, and Mumbo moved forward to break the barrier and plant a quick, chaste kiss on Scarās lips. Scar felt like a thousand fireworks went off in his head as even such a short act seemed to seal them together.Ā
āJoelās watching.ā Mumbo whispered as he quickly pulled away, and Scar couldnāt wait for the next time the two of them trained together so he could make Joel pay. He let out a small huff, and Mumbo placed his hand over Scarās on the counter with a chuckle.Ā
āI canāt believe it only took seventeen bad guys to make us realize this.ā Scar sighed, looking at their hands together with an intense glee.Ā
āSeventeen bad guys, one missing finger, and one stab wound,ā Mumbo laughed, āBut, weāre both quite daft, arenāt we?āĀ
āI wouldnāt call you daft.ā Scar shook his head, and Mumbo just chuckled, but he didnāt respond. He was clearly just reading Scarās face, taking in every feature, almost searching there for something. His eyes were intense, and Scar felt himself start to flush, unsure of what to do in a situation like this, āWhat are you looking atā¦?ā He asked, wishing he had a mirror to see if he had something on his features.Ā
There was a small pause, but then Mumboās face softened, and he squeezed Scarās hand tightly, āI just realized Iām lucky enough to have you to protect me. Both as Scar and as Hotguy.ā He chuckled, āWhat a lucky guy I am.āĀ
Scar sucked a sharp breath in, and without caring what the hell Joel thought, he tugged Mumbo across the counter and held his face in a kiss, refusing to let him go this time.Ā
It had happened seventeen times, but as long as air escaped his lungs, it would never happen again.
hey bro why does your speech bubble become heart shaped when we talk ? bro why did the tail on your speech bubble curl around and make a little heart shape
cogito, ergo sum @swanwithhand - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook