What if instead of waking up in the mushroom body, sqq woke up in a doll.
Something something while lbh was away in the abyss, sqq without noticing offended a misterious (demonic-succubi-esque???) cultivator with a weird thing for making dolls. She had dolls all over her secret workshop that she very kindly let him into when she heard about the famous Xiu Ya sword being in the city.
What she wanted of him? Who knows, sqq couldn't bring himself to care. She probably wanted his money or try to steal his hair, the hair of those dolls seemed very much like real hair, although he had to admit the level of details on these dolls were amazing.
(she wanted to trick him into buying one of her cursed dolls and steal his life energy little by little, but got wifebeamed by widow sqq during their conversation about how talented she was to be able to make so many dolls, and without really understanding he rejected her with little to no emotion on his face)
So she cursed him, and since sqq didn't feel anything bad at the moment he thought it just didn't work and left, not sparing the curse a single thought after their encounter.
The rest of the story goes as usual, excep that after he self detonates his soul doesn't go into the mushroom body, instead it got directly into the shape of a doll in the workshop of this woman.
His first thought is thinking someone snitched the mushroom body bc wtf wasn't he supposed to wake up under the dirt??? Why this place smells slightly familiar? Like paint and humidity and floral perfumes?? and why everything looks fucking giganourmus?!?! A teapot should NOT look that big from his position....Oh no, did the mushroom body turned out as small as a squirrel? WhAT is happening?!
And then he looks at his arms and legs, and he has joints. White paper skin with joints in his wrists, elbows, torso, waist, knees, feet. And he panics, a lot.
The woman who cursed him starts monologuing about how she trapped him now, and you are mine, I made this doll specially for you master shen, this is my revenge for your insolence to leave me yada yada- Sqq stoped listening a while ago.
Somehow he manages to escape from this woman and now he is roaming around as the size of some apples. Everything is huge. Everything is dangerous, even the grasshopers! And this body is fragile! He can't feel heat nor cold, neither hunger or other things, but he is useless with no spiritual veins inside, and if someone is not looking carefully, they might crush him. And the way back to cq is gonna be a hell of a trip! But he needs airplane to fix this. He can't stay as a doll forever! He needs a mushroom body and then fly into the sunset far from this mess! Adiós! Goodbye! So his new plan is to infiltrate into cang qiong, look for that rat and disappear. Sneaking into some disciple's pouch must be enough to break in.
Something something it only had passed a few months since lbh stole sqq's body and everything is still very fresh. CQ mountain is a hot mess. Sqh frankly needs to lay down and take a nap. Lqg keeps figthing with Lbh practially every day and coming back beaten bloody, he has his king pestering him and a lot of paperwork to do, Lbh is a pain in the ass, Yqy is really close to snap and start a war with HHP, and he knows nothing about his bro. So yeah. Such a great time to be alive.
The mushroom bodies should had been ready, right? He must be alright...Yeah. He has enough already to keep him busy. Cucumber bro is gonna come out and stumble across at any moment. No one would bat an eye if he takes a nap, right? He deserves it. He is overworked enough for another lifetime, his head hurts, his bones hurt everywhere, a short nap should be fine...
Until he feels something small tugging his robes and a cold tiny finger poking his eyelids. But he doesn't want to. He is very comfortable on the floor of his office. Whatever bird decided to pick a fight with his face can keep trying.
"AIRPLANE, WAKE UP, YOU HACK! I NEED YOU TO FIX THIS! WHY IS A WITCH WITH ANACHRONISTIC HAUNTED DOLLS IN THIS NOVEL? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"
That voice. That fucking annoying voice was of just one person and one person only. He opened his eyes, looking for the source of the unmistakable voice of his No1 hater, but he came across with a pretty porcelain doll. With a very ugly sneer in it's face.
"W-Wha-?...Bro-?!"
"Fucking finally! Why are you sleeping on the floor in your ofice?! I was looking around your bedroom like an idiot! Do you know how close I was to falling from your window?!"
-TBC-
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Promises
He should know better.
Wolfwood has seen Vash make promises, or hear about the ones he has made in the past. He has also seen the end of each one and how every single time the outcome is less than what was promised.
Vash likes to say embellished words, with a soft and determined voice that lures you into his hopes and dreams, it almost feels like a spell, as if he was calling for you to come closer and believe him. But Wolfwood knows better.
He believes in him, but Vash is much closer to being an idealistic dreamer than a realistic person like he is. He might not be aware of it, but his beautiful promises of a better future give people hope, a hope that is usually embraced with things like disappointment and abandonment.
He doesn’t think that Vash does it with the intent of looking for any of those things. Far from it, he might even do the impossible in order to accomplish said promises, but life is too short and humans are too mortal for his wishes, so in the end, most of Vash’s promises end up being empty or they come to haunt him as a reminder of his failed vows. He admires the man, for his perseverance and idealism, but he also hates the man, for his stubbornness and lies.
Wolfwood knows all of this perfectly to a tee. And yet, he has also found himself being drawn to his world. Because he also dreams of it.
A world in where his always present calls for love and peace exist, a world that is far more kind than what he might deserve, a world in where the kids can be happy and roam around without any worry in their heads, a world in where he can peacefully turn grey with age and his hands can shed the harsh callouses of his life. Who knows, maybe a world in where he and Vash can finally know the peace that was taken away from them, in where they can share the calmness that comes with the passage of time, indulging in every tick of the clock welcoming with open arms whatever comes their way without any fear.
It is a beautiful promise. But Wolfwood is a person that has to keep his feet on the ground, indulging in “what ifs” would only make things harder than what they had to be. He can’t have any ifs if he can’t make it through the now. And by the way he is carrying his present, he is doubtful he will even get to see a shed of that promised world that Vash tries to drag him into. So why mourn something he doesn’t even have, or will ever have for that matter.
He hates the way Vash seems to promise things so easily. His tongue silky and pliant, slipping divine words one after the other, promises way too big for what that barren world can actually fit.
But when Vash talks to him in that holy voice of his, when he hears him say “It’s okay, everything will be alright, I promise” so gently right on his ear, while he holds his face so tenderly making him focus on him and nothing else, he wants to believe him.
He has seen the end of his promises. He knows how impossible they are. But for once, he wants to believe it too. Believe in that loving world that will cradle them both until they fall asleep, listening to the soft sound of the wind laughing while the moons smile upon them.
So he allows himself to indulge in the warmth of his palms, leaning into the comfort of his existence, feeling the soft air of Vash’s breaths against his skin while their foreheads meet in a touch that feels like a hot brand that will melt him.
For an instant, he allows himself to be selfish and believe that maybe, that is how living in that world Vash so desperately fights for would be. Soft and warm, making him feel safe in the hollow of Vash’s hands where the world seems to fit so well. A world where the blue sky is a blanket that covers the love and care that is nestled in it like the one in Vash’s eyes. He wants to see that world.
For now, he will selfishly think that the world that fits in Vash’s hands is right there in where he is holding him, where his blue eyes are drowning in the light of the sunset dripping with love and care while looking at him, that the gentle touch of Vash’s thumb wiping his tears is the same as the kiss of that laughing wind in that distant future, where the smile of his eyes overcomes the smile of the moons.
He should know better. But he loves the thought of that world. And he hopes that Vash will get to see that world, because that gentle sight is more fitting for someone like him than the one of his violent world.
He promises to himself that he will do what it takes for that day to be possible. Even if the end of that promise will be empty for Nicholas, he knows it will be a full one for Vash. So it really isn’t that empty for him after all.
He hates his lies, and he hates how true they sound, but Vash’s embellished words are far sweeter than his bitter thoughts so they feel better on his insides, almost like a balm that cares for the wounds of his throbbing, painful reality.
He should know better.
But aren’t humans weak at the promise of love?
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Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/
I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III]
Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.
“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.
He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.
“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”
Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.
“Yeah?”
The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.
“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.
Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.
“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.
Eddie gawked at him.
“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”
“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”
“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.
“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.
Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.
“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”
Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.
“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”
He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.
“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”
Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.
“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”
Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.
The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.
“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.
A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.
“How long he has been living here?”
Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.
“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”
“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.
“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”
Eddie hummed, cocking his head.
“Your mom is very smart.”
Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.
“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”
Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.
“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”
“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.
This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.
“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”
Eddie raised his hands again.
“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”
That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.
Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.
Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.
*
“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break.
“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.
“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”
“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.
“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”
The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.
“I am just saying-”
“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.
“No, I’m just-”
“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.
‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”
“Lure in.”
“Lull into a fake sense of security.”
“Cast charm person.”
“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”
“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.
*
Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.
“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.
Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.
“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”
There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.
“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”
“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently.
The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.
“You guys finishing up?”
“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”
Steve frowned.
“That’s what I said.”
“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.
To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.
*
“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.
“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.
“I did not”
“You totally did.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.
“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”
He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.
“Spare us the imagery, please.”
Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.
“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”
And he was gone.
Gareth sighed.
“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head.
“Yeah.”
*
Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.
Some very, very humiliating calls.
Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.
He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-
“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.”
Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?
“Hello?”
“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”
“... Eddie? Is that you?”
Busted.
“What gave me away?”
“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice.
“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.
“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”
Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.
“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”
“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.
“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”
Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.
After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.
“What's up?”
The man braced himself for what he was about to request.
“I need your help with an assignment.”
*
The door opened before he could even knock. Again.
“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”
“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.
“The likes of- Excuse me?!”
Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.
“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.
“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting.
“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.
“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.
“Normies.”
“Pop listeners.”
“Mom friends.”
“Conformists.”
“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.
Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.
“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.
“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.
“He is!”
Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.
“I believe we have some physics to cover?”
Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.
[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]
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