#Dead Beat Zombie Dad

[turkeyinnovember]

3 children (chilly, christian, & ivan) and 1.5 adult (kristine count as half) (den’s pretty much dead) in a zombie apocalypse… things do not look very good.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part three —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: let's build some relationships :)

From behind a tree, your eyes narrow with concentration as you draw the string of your bow. The feel of it in your hands offers satisfaction; you used to love new makeup, blushes and creams, or sweet custards from the market. Now, you love a good weapon.

Is there anything Ghost doesn’t know how to do? And you thought Paul had skillful hands.

You’re not sure exactly where Ghost and Blue have gone, because after leading you out the gate of their camp, Blue showing you the exact maze of steps needed to avoid their booby traps, they went their own way. Again, they disappeared among the white trees. You were left to pick a direction and stick with it. So you ended up here, the opposite way of the pond, with your eyes finally catching sight of a small deer. A fawn.

It’s young but perfect.

The blood that courses through its limbs switches on the predator part of your brain. It will be enough to keep you fed for at least a week, perhaps more, and promote the healing of the wound that aches with each shift of your waist. You inhale, exhale. The arrow is ready to release.

A single gunshot rings out.

Straight through the fawn’s eye.

It doesn’t even have time to cry out as it falls over, a small thud filling the quiet air. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes flicker in the direction of the gunshot, but you already know who has stolen this kill from you. In the distance, you see his bulky form, the lowering of his rifle, and then you see the girl bounce down from a tree and whirl towards the dead animal.

Are you kidding me?

You want to snarl and sneer. Instead, you flare your nostrils while lowering your bow. Meters away, Blue kneels down by the deer and you see her gently mouth words to its corpse. Perhaps, a childish parting that helps her feel better about its death. Ghost arrives and bends down to Blue’s level, and you can’t see his mouth with the mask on, but you know he is speaking to her by how he gestures his gloved hand around.

You’ll have to find another animal.

Squirrels aren’t your favorite meal. They’re not much compared to the taste of venison. But if you char squirrel meat just enough, it can get a nutty flavor that, with your eyes closed, you can pretend is a juicy slab of chicken home-roasted by your mother.

There is no room to be picky.

There is no room for wants anymore, only needs, and from behind the tree, you move your gaze to spot a grey squirrel that will be enough for the day’s needs. You take aim again. You’d put your washed hair in two French braids to keep the strands from interfering, but without ties, they are starting to come undone at the ends. There was a time when you cared about the fashion of your hair. Now, styling is a tactical choice.

Squirrels are trickier. They are small and require greater marksmanship than you are confident you have. Archery was never something you did until the world bled grey and demanded it of you.

The animal flicks its bushy tail, prancing about over thick tree roots. You wait for the moment it stills.

“How’s it going?” someone says, and you jump back in a step, fingers nearly slipping and releasing the arrow off at the ground.

Blue. You whirl around to see that she’s snuck up in a tree behind you, nimble and light on her feet, with curiosity filling her eyes as she sits perched on a branch, one that would be too high for you to ever climb. Her brown hair is hidden under her hood, the tip of her nose flushed pink from the air, and she rubs her hands together to brush off the crumbs of tree bark. Her movements remind you of the squirrel.

It takes a moment for your muscles to soften. You glance back at the squirrel and it’s already scampered off.

“Going great,” you tell her flatly, sighing through your nose. You can be patient with her. She’s nice, young. She’d snuck you extra food. “Shouldn’t you be with Ghost?”

“I’m just stopping by to tell you that we’re leaving. And—“ she squints her eyes in the distance for a moment, “That there’s a couple of those fucks due south.”

Those fucks.

Lovely. You glance around at the unfamiliar trees. From down here, you don’t see anything, but from her vantage point, her scope of sight is better for scouting threats.

“They’re pretty far off. Just be careful, okay?”

“Thanks. I will,” you nod.

Her bright stare then flickers to your braids. “You did your hair... What are those called again?”

She frowns, searching for the word somewhere in a corner of her young brain. You’re surprised that a ten-year-old girl doesn’t know what French braids are; they’d been all you wore as a kid. But then you realize her normal life came to an end at age five. Perhaps many of the memories have faded, replaced with more useful knowledge that her father has had to stuff in there.

You swallow. “Braids?”

“Braids,” she repeats, tasting the foreign word with a click of her tongue. “Right. They look really cool on you.”

“These ones are pretty shitty because I don’t have anything to keep them in.”

Blue starts to say, "Maybe you could—"

But a gruff call cuts through the trees, beckoning her head to turn.

"Blue. Let's go."

Your own eyes follow the voice and land on Ghost some odd paces away. He is already staring at you through lidded eyes, a palpable energy rolling off his body in waves that you can feel even from this distance. Over his shoulders, he carries the fawn with ease. Large palms clasping the knobby ankles. A steady drip of its blood creates a red stain in the snow beside his boot.

He looks horrific. A smear of crimson on the skull. Dressed in all black, carrying a dead animal as if it is nothing. You recall how he'd pushed you to the ground like you were nothing, too. You swallow the thought.

Before you can even look back at Blue, she's already gone. Whirling down from the branch and running over, following in his footsteps as they head back.

It takes another agonizing hour but you manage to kill a squirrel. The Greys don’t find you, luckily. You stuff your coat pockets with some pine needles and decide to call it a meal, knowing that you will have to hunt again tomorrow.

This area of the forest is still new. In your brain, you’ve already etched some markers to find your way back: the pond where they found you, a circle of pine trees to the right of their camp with a big stump in the center, a small creek past the hill. But the way you return back today leads to you approaching the camp from the backside, and you notice something.

Behind the cabin is something covered in a big black tarp. The tarp is peppered with fallen twigs and snow, but still, you think you make out the shape of a vehicle underneath.

They have a car—?

Irritation finds you. How did Ghost manage such things? A goddamn cabin, a deep trench that you assume he dug all by himself. And now a car. Did he also have petrol stored somewhere? By the looks of it, the tarp hasn’t been moved in a while. What is the car for? Is this what he uses to get medicine from the cities?

You almost scoff as your boots crunch the snow.

You won’t have any of our medicine.

There hasn’t even been a chance to consider how you might fend for some yourself. 

For now, you will just focus on food.

Ghost has tied the deer upside down on a branch by the time you are back. You carefully recall the way through their traps. Blue has to unlock the bolted gate for you, but then she runs back to Ghost, who hands a thick blade to her.

“Go on, then, kid.”

“I hate this part,” she mumbles, but he lifts her up so she can reach the knife to the animal’s hind legs, beginning to skin the hide top-down. She wears a concentrated expression as she does so, nose scrunched, and you can tell that skinning deer is a skill her small hands have practiced before. 

Ghost is the one to butcher it.

You skin your squirrel. 

They use the fireplace for cooking, and of course, their dinner is prepared first. While you wait, you undo your braids and snack on the pine needles. Blue is surprisingly quiet, helping her dad cook a little and playing with Grim on the floor, but also flickering her gaze to you every minute or so. 

“Your hair is curly now,” she comments softly during dinner. “From the braids?”

“That happens when you take them out,” you say after swallowing a piece of meat. There’s nothing to wipe your hands on, so you use your trousers as a napkin. Your mother would’ve had a fit. 

“Do you…” you clear your throat, glancing at Ghost and then back to the girl. “Do you want me to braid your hair after dinner?”

She nods sheepishly, but Ghost huffs out a low breath. “I could do that for you, Blue.”

“Ghost,” she sighs. “You don’t know how.”

“How hard can it be?”

But Blue licks her lips and shakes her head, mumbling, “I want her to do it. She’s good at it.”

The way Ghost looks at you is rarely anything but uncomfortable. However, when you sit down on the rug with Blue, your hands finding purchase in her hair, his eyes seem to burn holes through your body deeper than any time before. It is as if letting someone touch his daughter physically sickens him, and causes his breathing to turn weighted and deep. He begrudgingly allows it but supervises, sitting on the couch as you begin braiding her hair. 

Grim sits in her lap. She strokes his fur.

“You have pretty hair,” you tell her.

Blue softly wonders, “How can hair be pretty?”

“I… I don’t know,” you say. “The color, the length. It’s just pretty, I think.”

“Ghost cuts it for me,” she says, turning to look at him.

“Wait, don’t move. It’ll mess me up.”

“Oh, sorry,” she turns back but continues. “He gets it wet and has me lay my head on the tree stump so it’s all flat. Then, he chops it off with his knife. Right, Ghost?”

His response is a low hum. It’s stiff, pushing through a tense jaw.

You finish the two French braids, running your fingers over them.

"I don't have anything to tie them, but they look really nice on you."

It is then that Ghost stands up and disappears for a minute. When he returns, he has a roll of black thread that you believe he used for your stitches.

With the knife from his belt, he cuts two pieces, bends down, and silently offers them to your palm. Blue lights up. You tie off the braids and she stands, toying with them happily, and asking her dad what he thinks. Finally, you notice his shoulders soften.

"Beautiful," he murmurs quietly, just for her. He strokes the braided hair and then gives a gentle brush of his thumb over her cheek. "Always look beautiful, Baby Blue."

"Don't—" her cheeks flush and she briefly flashes her eyes to you, "Don't call me that."

"Used to call you it all the time,” he grumbles. “Gettin' too old for it, are you?"

What you learn Blue isn't too old for is curling up with him on the couch. This is the first night you stay in the cabin after dinner rather than retreating to your shed, simply because they've left some embers in the fireplace for warmth. You sit on the floor beside it. Blue sits with Ghost and he pulls out a book to read quietly to her.

You try not to look.

It touches you in a way you didn't think it would. It seems so normal. For a moment, you imagine a world where things could be different. A world where Blue wore braids to school every day. A world where Ghost could pick a new book out, rather than read the same ones over and over. A world where, maybe, you could have a family of your own, rather than be an uncomfortable witness to theirs.

But your family is nothing now. You never even knew what happened to your parents. The end arrived when you were away from them. No wifi. No service. Whether they died or turned Grey, you could never be certain. A pit in your gut told you their end happened years ago.

You’re brought out of your daze when Ghost stands from the couch. Blue has fallen asleep. He carries the girl to her room, and you take it as a sign to leave for your place outside. 

But before you can open the door, his voice stops you, dropping down to an even lower octave.

“Hold on.”

You turn. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

Despite the warmth from the fireplace, your blood goes icy rigid. You stand there and press your lips. “If this is about the braids, then I won’t do it again. I was just trying to be nice.”

“No. Not that,” and he holds your stare, unwavering, “It’s about your old camp. The other day, you said there were… hoards of ‘em.” 

The words roll off his tongue thoughtfully as if this is something that has been mulling over in that brain of his for a while. Thoughts belonging to a skull. A ghost. A father. 

Ghost continues gruffly, “Where were you?”

“West of here,” you say. “Jesus, I think, at least. I couldn’t really tell where I was going.”

“How far?”

“Far, but not that far.” Your eyes drift to the floor. “By the forest’s edge.”

“We don’t see that many of them here,” Ghost mutters. This might be the most he’s spoken to you in five days. “Only ever a few at a time. Ten at the most.”

“That’s how it was for us. But more came, and then,” you exhale, “And then there were too many.”

Your eyes close, recalling the frantic manner in which you escaped. The last glimpse of your old life had been the mangled arm of your sister, thick bites cutting down to white bone. In a way, you were glad there were enough of them to kill her.

Your eyes reopen. “We should’ve had an escape plan, something for emergencies. We got too complacent after making it for so long.”

All Ghost says is, “Yeah. You should have.”

And then he is dismissing you with a lazy wave of his hand, turning to give you his back. You scowl, roll your eyes as he is not looking, and leave the cabin. Your spine already aches before you even lay down on the floorboards for the night.

You wonder if Ghost has his own emergency plans; what would have to happen for him to abandon this perfect setup? How would he do it? The memory of the car out back finds you as you drift off. But your sleep that night is haunted by terrible, grey dreams.

It usually is.

Hunting on your own is different than hunting with Paul. There's some learning to do. You have to study the tracks on your own and observe the marks of antlers against the trees. For the first week, you don't get a single deer. Only squirrels. One skinny hare. Ghost and Blue don't go with you; the fawn, rabbits, and stored cans and jars hold them over.

Most evenings are spent braiding Blue's hair. I like the way it feels, she claims. Ghost gets used to it. He still watches from the couch but rather than stiffly staring, he lays down and relaxes, placing a hand over his chest.

The next time they go hunting, Blue's hair is still woven in the French braids when you catch an interesting sight through the cabin's window. She stands on the dining chair to reach Ghost's mask, peeling it off. You can only see the back of his head: brown hair, chopped short.

So there is a human under that thing?

She sets the mask on the table and picks up a clean one. A different one.

When they come out, Ghost with his guns and Blue with her knives, he appears more like a father than a character from a horror film. There is no plastic skull. Instead, a cutout in the fabric reveals the tops of his temples and the strong bridge of his nose. You would never say it, but you prefer this one.

Blue must catch your staring because she tells you, "The other one was starting to smell. I made him change."

"Good call," you quip under your breath.

Again, you go your separate ways. You head for the pond. You think you can hear them somewhere nearby, but ignore it, focusing on the deer prints in the snow. It's hard to tell if they're fresh. It hasn't snowed in two days.

Your footsteps quiet to a halt when you hear light crunching sounds. Another living thing is close by. You take position behind a thick pine, eyes scanning the wooded area and the pond to the right of you. But you know the sound of deer, and you're starting to learn the sound of Blue.

She's scampering towards the pond, just her. You can't see Ghost. As protective as he can be, he allows the girl some length to her leash. Offers bite-sized moments of independence. She's allowed to play in the tree just outside their camp before sundown, but only if he is watching. So you imagine he has let her run off ahead only because he is somewhere nearby.

From the distance, you watch her lurch for a squirrel.

She is quick about it.

Grabs the neck, and holds it up. A quick slice to the jugular. Blood seeps. She frowns, closing her eyes and murmuring something that, in the quietness, you think is along the lines of: I'm sorry. Tried to make it quick for you.

And then she begins to skin it, right then and there.

Young, nimble hands taught to survive.

As she does so, you decide you've seen enough. You have your own food to find.

But as you move from the tree, your eyes drift to find another watcher. A form takes shape behind a distant oak, near the pond. Your heart spikes; a Grey? But no— a Grey would already be running towards her scent. This shape belongs to a human, a withered man with hair that juts out in grey clumps, and crazed eyes pointed right at her.

More so, a revolver pointed.

taglist: @cool-0-n @savagemistresss @morganvoorhees @dinsverdika @cated18 @lolszass @jeswiii @all-good-things-have-an-ending @alternatealt @uvoiid @underatreedrinkingtea @ramadiiiisme @crissteetee67 @lexi-zsy09 @spikespiegell @littlezarp @rebel-soldat @4headkissess @mckenzieriley69 @moxxiestar @palomaxaxaxa @msjaeger

[loupy-mongoose]

*Ahem*

Happy Halloween!! ^w^

Bug Fables.

It's my current favorite video game, and actually, you can thank it for Linden Roots existing~

I'll explain, but in order to do so I have to dive into spoilers for one of my absolute favorite plots for one of my absolute favorite characters, so I need to slap on a;

MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING!

In my opinion, this game is best experienced SPOILER FREE, so if you haven't played it and want to some day, I recommend skipping my info dump below. (This info can be acquired before beating the main game though. :>)

You're okay with spoilers? Yes? Okay, carry on.

So.

Those who are familiar with Leif's story will probably see how Bug Fables influenced the creation of Linden Roots.

A long while ago, I mentioned Randy being inspired by my favorite fictional character.

That's Leif.

Leif is a moth who is ancient.

And dead.

Loooooong before the game takes place (I can't find an exact timeframe; it's like a generation or two), Leif went with a team of bugs to explore a cave, but ended up dying in there. In that same cave, a group of scientists later experimented on cordyceps. Now, as soon as they became relevant to the story I was HOOKED.

I learned about cordyceps as a kid, and they scared the crap out of me. But it also was one of those morbidly fascinating things I'd look into once in a while. (Before anyone tells me, yes, I know that's what's in The Last of Us.)

If you don't know, IRL cordyceps basically turn bugs into zombies.

Anyway, the scientists were trying to find a way to create eternal life (what else is new lol), and did this through cordyceps. Which, as one could guess when dealing with zombie fungus, ended up going badly for the scientists.

One of the "failed" experimental fungi was thrown out, and found its way to the deceased Leif, and brought him back to life. It took on his memories, and Leif woke up without knowing what happened, until you dig into his story during the game. So the "Leif" we know in the game isn't truly Leif, but is the fungus living as him.

Now... I'm sure that sounds a bit familiar...

This idea of a character being dead-but-not struck a chord with me. It fascinated me to no end.

But there's more to it.

As one might expect, Leif has some tragedy surrounding him.

While playing the game, you can stumble upon his decedents.

This here is Muze. With a 'z'

This is Leif's great great however-many-greats grand-daughter, who you meet in the game's present day.

When he was alive, he had a wife.

His wife was Muse. With an 's'.

We never get to see what Muse looked like, but he says in-game that Muze is a spitting image of her. Hence why Akoya is dressed as she is in my pic. She's dressed as Muse.

Now, according to the developers, Muse was pregnant when Leif went into the cave where he died.

And he didn't know.

There are several moments in the game that show Leif's potential as a father, but one in particular stood out to me.

(Note for the images; Leif refers to himself as "We/Us".)

Oops, I forgot one. Vi finishes by shouting "I said it's not happening!"

The text in the last shot bounces/wiggles in-game, indicating playfulness or joking.

If you're familiar with Goombario and Goombella in the Paper Mario games, this dialogue is this game's version of that. You can have the main characters give flavor text on any area and most characters in the game. (And I recommend doing it often, as it adds SOOO much to the game! ^v^)

This bit takes place in the first room after Kabbu and Vi meet Leif. And at the end of the room, an event happens to change what's said for the rest of the game. Meaning, the only time you see it is RIGHT after they meet; He was getting playful with these two bugs he'd met only moments ago.

I'm sure it can just be seen as sarcasm, but having found this dialogue after learning about Leif missing out on raising a child, I saw it as a clue that he would've been a great dad. And it shattered me. ;w;

Randy and Akoya are wish-fulfillment. They're my version of Leif and Muse. They're my way of giving Leif and Muse what I'm sad they missed out on, while also keeping some of the angst, lol. Thankfully, they've evolved into their own separate characters that I feel I can be proud of, but Leif's story and tragedy still has a deep, well-protected place in my heart.

Anyway, thanks for checking out my ramble. I accept no blame for any potential spoiler you might've seen against your will. XD

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad AU

Part 6!!!

@cam-cat-writer @jackiemonroe5512 @finntheehumaneater @irregular-child @grimmfitzz @fantrash @bookworm0690 @fiddledeedee85 @hunterbow04 @strangeforest @just-a-tiny-void @jaimeweasley13 @thelittleclare @rebellatio-03 @sirsnacksalot @geekyfifi @sapphireoceansoc @salty-h0e @dragonmama76 @mentallyundone-blog @lingeringmirth @moomkin77 @netflixisacopingstrategymom @jaytriesstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @hellfirebaby-86 @blu3stars @blackpanzy @strawberryyyenthusiast @lololol-1234 @thestarslittleking @silenzioperso @forest-fogg @bebopbabyy @lawrencebshaggoth @stevesbipanic @dauntlessdiva @live0rdive @y4r3luv @jonesn4coffee @sofadofax @sensationalsunburst @scarlet-malfoy @l393ndjean @asspirin-s @fandomz-brainrot @mugloversonly @virginlemontea @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @atemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @myownworstenemyyy

(Sorry to anyone who’s tags are messing up, I’ll try tagging you in the replies when posted)

.

The Universe had a strange way of making Steve Harrington hate Life.

Like waking up in a hospital after simply trying to pick up Louie.

Ugh.

Because it was never “simply” anything anymore, right? Now it was monsters and other dimensions and asshole blonds with pretty eyes who liked to beat him half to death.

Oh. And a bunch of mouthy middle schoolers.

“Dude, you up yet?”

“Give him a minute, Mike! He was literally half-dead not even yesterday!”

“Well if he keeps groaning like a zombie I’m gonna assume he’s become one!”

Steve found his voice, although crackly and rough from disuse, just to say “Shut the fuck up.”

“He’s alive!” One of them shouted instead.

Steve peeled his eyes open and immediately groaned at the harsh lights. Blinking against the stark white hospital walls, he turned his head to look at the kids piled in the chairs of the room.

Max and Lucas were squished together in one chair, Mike and Will taking the second. Baby Byers must’ve already been let out. Dustin was sat cross-legged at the foot of Steve’s hospital bed, that El girl right next to him. Steve felt like he was in the middle of an interrogation with how she stared him down.

Steve sat up, ignoring every bodily protest telling him to lay the fuck back down. Dustin grinned wide at Steve, and Steve gave him a very weak smile in return.

“So are you actually alive, now? Cause you still look half-dead,” Max teased, smirking at him. Steve rolled his eyes and flipped her off, snorting when she gave it right back.

“Yay he’s alive wooo!” Mike snarked sarcastically.

Steve huffed, but Mike reminded him of Nancy which then reminded him of how he got dragged into this shit when then reminded him of—

“Fucking shit,” he swore under his breath.

“Are you ok? Do we need to called the nurse?” Will asked tentatively. All the kids suddenly looked on edge at Steve’s perceived pain.

He shook his head quickly and then immediately winced. It felt like his brain was jumping around his skull. “No, no I’m fine. Just— Wheeler where’s your sister?”

Mike stared at him funny. “Dude there is no way you’re thinking of my sister after climbing out of your deathbed.”

“What? Of fucking course I am! She was watching Louie and I never got chance to pick him up or ask her about him—“

“Whoah hey— who’s Louie?” Lucas spoke up.

“He’s—“

“Oh!” Dustin perked up. “Is he the baby my mom’s watching? Little chubby thing that looks like a cute little raisin? He’s got your hair, dude!”

Steve visibly relaxed back into his pillows. “Oh my God. Ok. Ok.” It was fine. Louie was fine. Everything was fine—

“Oh the kid Nancy’s been watching?” Mike perked up. “He’s real cute.”

“Is he your little brother?” Will asked.

Steve was steadying his breathing still, so he shook his head and smiled weakly. “No. No he’s, uh— my son.”

El tilted her head. “You are his Papa?”

Steve looked at her, really took her in; her curly hair, her worn and a little too big button up, her curious head tilt, her big eyes. He smiled at her. “Yeah, sure.”

She smiled back at him, small and shy.

“You have a kid?” Lucas asked.

“Aren’t you like— 15?” Dustin accused.

“He’s like 18.” Max corrected. “He and Billy are in the same grade.”

“17, actually.” Steve informed. “But I’ll be 18 in July.”

“Who’s the mom?” Mike asked.

“Nobody you need to know,” Steve shot back. Mike huffed.

“Why was he at Mike’s?” Will asked. The kid was quiet, much like his older brother. Baby Byers only spoke up after talking to Mike, as if needing reassurance. A massive pang of guilt ran though Steve, remembering all the shit he’d said to Jonathan last year.

Steve cleared his throat. “Nancy was watching him for me for a bit cause I had work.”

Dustin perked up, grinning mischievously. “Where do you work?”

“Yeah, no. You’re not coming by to harass me.”

“Booooo!” Max shouted.

“Party pooper!” Lucas joined, sticking his tongue out. El grinned and stuck her tongue out, too.

It was then that the nurse walked in with Hopper and Mrs. Byers.

Thank God. Because it was seriously starting to feel like an interrogation.

.

Hopper stole his car.

He stole Steve’s car and refused to let him drive it.

Steve was discharged later the same day he woke up. They gave him some medicine, some papers, and sent him on his way.

But he couldn’t leave because Hopper stole his car.

And then forced Steve to sit in the passenger seat of his stolen car.

Steve had never sat in the passenger seat of his own car.

“Stop huffing and puffing.” Hopper grumbled.

“I’m not huffing and puffing.” Steve (didn’t) huffed.

“Then quit sulking.”

“It’s my own car,I’ll sulk if I want to.”

“You get beat half to death and suddenly gain an attitude.”

Steve smirked out the window. “You and I both know I’ve always had an attitude.”

Hopper made a gruff sound that could’ve been a laugh, probably thinking of every time he’d had to break up one of Steve’s parties or drive him home cause he’d been wandering around drunk off his ass.

Steve perked up when they skipped the turn to go the trailer park.

“Uh, Hop? Where we goin?”

“Relax, brat. Your kid’s still with the Hendersons.”

Oh yeah. Maybe he was more out of it then he thought. Steve relaxed back into the seat a bit more than before.

“Still don’t see why I couldn’t just drive myself,” he muttered, just to be a shit.

Hopper groaned.

.

When Hop pulled into the Henderson’s driveway Steve wasted no time in getting out. Hopper yelled from somewhere behind him about waiting for the car to stop next time. Steve payed him no mind and ran up the porch stairs to hastily knock on the door.

Mrs. Henderson opened up soon enough, a smile on her face and a hand on her hip.

“Steve, dear, hi!”

Steve smiled shakily down at the short women, pleased to see her but desperate to see Louie.

“Hi, Mrs. H. Is Louie here?”

“Of course, sweetie! He’s with Dusty and his friends, come say hi!” She left back into the house without another word. Steve followed after with Hopper.

Just as Mrs. Henderson claimed, Little Louie was in the living room with The Party. There was a light yellow knitted blanket spread on the floor where they all sat together, except Max and Will, who sat on the couch.

Louie was sat in Mike’s lap, Lucas right in front of them letting Louie play with his fingers. Dustin sat right next to Mike, pressed into his side and cooing down at Louie with a wide grin.

The moment Louie caught sight of his dad he let go of Lucas’ fingers and reached for Steve, bringing the attention of the Brat Brigade onto him.

Steve bent to grab Louie from Mike, his focus solely on his son being back in his arms. Louie babbled happily, his chubby baby hands making grabs for Steve’s hair and tugging lightly. Steve ignored the ache in his head in favor of smiling wide at the babbling baby.

“Hi sweetie, how you doin’ baby?”

Louie’s response was a gummy smile and one of those weird baby gurgle-trills. Steve’s grin only widened.

“Yeah I bet you’re having fun with the brats, huh?”

“Hey!” Dustin scoffed on the floor, pulling Steve’s attention back to the room.

Mike and Lucas were silently pouting, seemingly at the loss of the baby. Dustin looked downright offended at being referred to as a brat. Will and Max were kind of staring at Steve, but he ignored them for the most part outside of shooting them a small smile.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt your time with Louie?” Steve teased, chuckling at Lucas’ bottom lip sticking out. Mike made more of an effort to hide his pout but wasn’t very effective.

“Yeah, jerk. We were having a conversation.” Mike snapped, though there was no real venom in his tone.

Steve snorted, letting Louie pat at his face and ignoring the sting of the bruises. “I sincerely apologize for taking back my son from you heathens.”

“We’re not heathens!” Dustin protested.

“Yeah right! You kids would be the worst bad influences on my baby boy!”

Louie added his two-cents in the response of a squeal and particularly hard hit to the face, unfortunately right on a still healing cut on Steve’s cheekbone. Steve hissed under his breath.

“Alright—“ Mike suddenly appeared in front of Steve and took Louie. “—he’s ours again.”

Steve chuckled. He melted a little inside seeing Mike hold Louie so tenderly. He was so gentle with the baby, such a stark contrast to his usually loud and brash demeanor.

Dustin and Lucas were both up immediately to get the baby’s attention. Steve smiled as much as he could with the now slightly reopened cut, finally relaxing with seeing Louie.

“So when we’re you going to tell us you were a dad?” Max spoke up from the couch.

Steve glanced at her and placed a hand on his hip. “Who’s ‘we’? I met you like two days ago.”

Max rolled her eyes and brought her feet up to sit crisscross on the couch. “Well Billy hasn’t said anything about Louie so I assume you’re on the down low about being a dad.”

Not really, Steve thought. He just hasn’t brought Louie to school with him since Hargrove started. Mason and Gran had no problems helping out so that he could continue senior year without interruption.

But Steve didn’t tell the kids that, simply nodding and smiling.

.

Mrs. Henderson was reluctant to let Steve leave.

“I mean it, Steve. You have my number, you call me if you need anything at all.” She made him swear.

Dustin was even more reluctant, going as far as to cling to Steve’s sweater.

“You have to give us your address! Come on, man! We wanna see Little Louie!”

So Steve gave in and wrote down the address to the trailer, if only to get Dustin to stop whining. Mike grumbled about how they could’ve just asked Nancy.

Again, Hopper drove. Which absolutely irritated Steve but he wasn’t about to sit and argue with the Chief of police with his baby in the back seat.

But Hopper agreed that Steve could be back to driving himself in the next couple of days— which Steve immediately protested.

How was he meant to get to and from work if he couldn’t drive?

Apparently, Hopper took it upon himself to settle that.

“What do you mean I’m not going to work?”

Hopper grumbled and wiped a hand over his face. Steve might’ve thought he looked pissed, had he not known that’s just Hop’s face.

“I mean you’re mot going to work. I already called your boss, gave them a rundown— the government one with the wild dogs— and she said it’s fine.”

Steve threw his arms out. Was it dramatic? Yes. But Steve deserved to be dramatic after the time he’s had. “I need the money! I fucking live off of those tips, Hop!”

“I know that and I already talked about that, too. You’re still getting paid, don’t worry.” Steve tried to protest again but Hopper gave him this look that made his mouth snap shut. Steve shot his gaze to the floor and crossed his arms.

.

It was a weird 3 days of no work. Steve spent it at home in the trailer with baby Louie and— occasionally— Gran and the twins.

Eventually, it was time for him to go back.

Steve knocked on the Wheeler’s front door bright and early on Saturday, surprised when Mike opened the door instead of Nancy.

“Hey, Wheeler. Where your sister?”

“In the kitchen. Is that Louie?” Mike grabbed the car seat from Steve without waiting for an answer. Steve shrugged mentally and followed Mike into the living room with the diaper bag.

Color him surprised when he sees the rest of the kids sans El crowded around Little Louie, cooing and grinning while the baby thrives in the attention.

Steve smiled.

Yeah, alright. It was admittedly a very sweet sight.

Maybe everyone knowing about Louie isn’t too bad.

.

AGH I DID IT!! OMG ITS OUT

I’m so sorry this took so long LMAO

Fuck mental health, my PHYSICAL HEALTH has gone to absolute shit recently. And I’m also dividing my time between Stranger Things and ATLA atm and it’s taking 200% of my motivation lol

Next part should be longer in length and have more Steddie interactions. I’m finally making some progress 😭🙏

[zahri-melitor]

Today in Tim and Damian parallels that they have obviously never discussed: Robin #12 (2021) and Nightwing #139 (1996).

Damian takes a sample of Lazarus resin to Alfred’s grave, contemplating resurrecting him.

But I can fix that.

Obviously, Damian doesn’t go through with it, and struggles with a hallucination of a dark version of himself.

Talia shows up to find Damian.

"Why didn’t you resurrect him?"

"I’ve seen what the Lazarus Pits do to people. You, me, Ra’s, Mother Soul…they put something dark inside you...I wouldn’t curse Alfred to that. It wouldn’t really be him."

And while this is a lovely sentiment, it’s hysterical, as you’re at LEAST the third of your siblings to struggle with this, Damian. Maybe you could talk to them and they might have had some support and insight???

Because, of course, Tim struggled with this the last time we were playing ‘is Ra’s dead’ as a storyline, during Resurrection of Ra’s Al Ghul.

"Dick...in a world where Jason Todd can come back...then why can't my dad...?" "Tim...I..where does it stop, right? What about your mom, then? My mom and dad? Bruce's...?" "I get the argument...sure...you can't bring back one if you're not willing to bring back everyone. And you can't bring back everyone, so...don't start with one. But in that case--since you know you can't stop all crime...then why bother stopping any at all? Why do what we do then? Sometimes, looking at the 'big picture' can paralyze you, right?"

And so of course famously Tim goes down to the Lazarus Pit and dips out three test-tubes of fluid. Dick tries to talk him out of it.

"Maybe...but you'll always be asking yourself, 'is this really my friend? What about his soul, Tim? How do you bring that back once it's gone...?" "The pit restores that too!" "Yeah...you're right...why don't we go ask Ra's how his soul is doing...?"

Same beats. Same concern over whether the person you get back will be the same. And of course...Tim can't go through with it.

"You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. I let you make the choice for yourself...because I knew you'd make the right one."

Or, Damian, you could have spoken to your beloved big brother, Dick, who you remember ACTUALLY ATTEMPTING TO RESURRECT BRUCE. As you were there for the fallout. (Well, stuck at home recovering but you got to fight the resurrected zombie clone)

Dick's massive hypocrisy in Batman and Robin #7 (2009) where he doesn't stop to question what they might get back.

"So when we located a potential Lazarus Pit, maybe the last one in the world, what choice did I have? If someone gave you a chance, no matter how small, of bringing back someone you loved. You'd have to take it...wouldn't you?"

Actually no, you didn't have to Dick, you talked Tim out of it only two years earlier, but it's different because it's Bruce for you this time.

"No, it's him. He's always cheated death. It has to be him."

(Spoilers: it's absoutely not)

But I am glad to see that Damian reaches for exactly the same solution and comes to basically the same conclusion that Tim came to over why he shouldn't actually resurrect his beloved family members. (Dick's bad example should have helped him, if Williamson was actually going to acknowledge the parallels he just drew up here. Sadly however...)

Brothers. They're more alike than they like to think.

[little-reader]

"The Son of A Monster." Ch. 8

Masterlist

Carl Grimes x Male!Reader

Warnings; Graphic Gore, Death, blood, Slow-burn, Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is the Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie Apocalypse. Implied rape.

I sat in a room I was quite familiar with. This time, it had an extra bed, with blankets lying at the end. It was moved into the house after I was checked. I lay in this bed for hours. My back was facing the room as I stared at the wall. Plain blue wallpaper with a few cracks. There wasn’t much to do. I felt like a misbehaving child, sent to his room without supper. I was tired, and I hadn’t seen anyone since I came into this room. 

There wasn't much to say. What could I say? I sighed, staring at my fingers as I fiddled with them. The talking downstairs could be heard as it echoed through the hallways outside the door. I wasn't sure what they were talking about, but I could guess. I feel as though I will not be leaving this house or room for a while. A long while. I guess it wasn't too bad. A bed, food, a shower... and alone with my thoughts. It wasn't all that bad, it was quiet and calm, just what they wanted. 

I could hear footsteps coming upstairs and walking down the hall as I closed my eyes. The door handle was turned and pushed in. Soft feet camp in and close the door. I could hear the creak of the other bed and a light flip on, a lamp beside his bed, and pages flip. His beloved comics. That's what he was reading. It wasn’t usual, he'd stay up for hours either rereading comics or action books. Sometimes, he would draw with a Sharpie, making his figures.

I thought that was cute. He is making his figures. When he left the room, I would skim through his stack of papers, looking at the small pictures he drew. 

I sigh silently, slowly moving my head to look at the other bed. He was doing exactly that. Reading a book this time in his bed. His hat was hung on the top of the lamp and flannel was thrown at the bottom of the bed. His shoes were left at the door, showing how he lazily took them off. 

“You up?” He asked, making me realize he was looking at me. I hummed, and looked at the wall, playing with my fingers. Why did they put me in this room? As a joke, or had he asked? Or was he now supposed to watch over me like I did with him? Doesn't matter really. I'm stuck. He left me behind. For all he knows, I could be dead… I rub my eyes, yawning. “Dad said you're allowed out of the house if someone's watching over you.” He states as I give him another small hum. I was sure this annoyed him, by his small sigh and the sound of shuffling behind me. His light moved and pointed at me. I could see his shadow moving around on the wall as I had my head shoved into the pillow. My fingers played with the fabric of the pillowcase, pulling on the old rattan tag that was attached to it.

I felt a dip in my bed as Carl sat behind me, getting comfortable. I wasn’t sure what his motive was, but I didn’t appreciate it as I moved closer to the wall. I pushed my body forward and rolled onto my stomach, the blanket slipping off me because of the movement and Carl sitting on it. I grunted.

It was a while before he read. I could hear the book pages flip, and see his shadow moving as I stared at it. My heart beat a little faster. Something hit me rather quickly. I kissed him. In front of his family. His whole family. Shit. Though, he acted like it didn’t happen. I couldn’t tell what hurt worse, rejection or throwing it away. Another mistake, another damn mistake. It pissed me off to think he put off the kiss. But that was selfish. I was selfish. Now I’m here, with Carl reading on my bed, in a room I’m stuck in, in a town I have been in for months. I was always stuck here. This time, it would be harder to leave, to sneak out. 

 I sighed and turned on my back, now staring at the ceiling. Carl looked over from his book at the sudden movement. I stared at him, before letting my arm smack into his book down and sighing again. He rolled his eyes. 

“I'm… sorry,” I said, barely over a whisper, as I left my armrest on his lap and stared at my fingers again. I raised an eyebrow. His head tilted slightly. “I… I’m sorry, for everything.” I whispered, only glancing at him for a second. Lifted myself into a sitting position, letting out a breath as I did. “I didn’t know why I was going home. I didn’t know he was gonna kill your people, hell I did too.” I paused, picking at my nails. “And I’m sorry for doin’ that in front of your family. It was selfish,” I stated, not daring to look at the young boy. I was honestly scared to look at him. What emotion would lie in his expression? Disgust? 

I jolted slightly as he placed his hand on mine. I didn’t move them for a moment before I started to wrap my fingers intertwined with his. I sighed softly. “I don’t know what to feel. It's new for me.” Carl said, in the same calm voice, as he stared at our hands. “I…” He pauses like he’s trying to think about what to say. “I like you… and the time I spent with you, it wasn’t just me keeping you away… I’m sorry about that too. I enjoy spending time with you, Y/N. I love going out of the walls almost every week, watching you tell stories in that old house. I love going to that lake, going in and sitting in the field to dry off and stare at the clouds. I love when you give me your comic collection or teach me how to make pasta… I feel myself around you.” He stated, playing with my fingers. “Everyone warned me you’d hurt me… and all you’ve done is the opposite. I can’t count how many times you’ve saved my ass out there, in here… you make this world… better.” He grips my hand, now staring at me. I stare back. I want him. Crave the boy near me. I lifted my hand and rubbed his cheek, pushing his hair out of his face, and looking at his face. His bandage covered the side of it, and his face looked like he was confused, but strong in his emotions. 

“I… you know… 'm two years older than you... Bigger than you.” I started like I was trying to deny, reject, or back out. He broke eye contact and nodded, “Hey…” I paused, dipping my head down to catch his gaze. “Just… no funny business,” I whispered, and he chuckled slightly, then left it to a small smile. I rubbed his chin with my fingers. I felt his hand squeeze mine as my eyes flickered to his lips.

I smiled and kissed his cheek softly, pulling his chin to kiss the other. I kissed the corner of his mouth, then his chin, and the tip of his nose before I paused. I felt content at the moment. I looked down, my eyes locking with his, as I rubbed his chin with my thumb softly, and softly pressed my lips to his mouth, letting myself sink into the other boy. I let my hands wrap around his hair, bringing him closer.

I had my body draped across his, our legs wrapped together. I had just noticed how much bigger I was than him, but he was younger, so that might change shortly. I had my arms wrapped around his torso, and my head propped against his shoulder as he read. The blanket went to my shoulder. I closed my eyes, letting myself soak in his body heat as I drifted to other places. My mind kept on him as I fell asleep.

Dusty fields overlapped my body, the ingrown wheat or the yellow fields surrounded me as I lay in them. I opened my eyes, slowly looking around, I saw clouds looking down upon me as I was suddenly lifted into a standing position without moving a muscle. I blinked, turning my torso, but unable to move my feet forward. I could see a hand peeking out from the crops as I squinted. I felt my hands clench. The hand from the crops reached out towards me, inviting me in. The ring on the finger was oddly familiar, the hand pale and purple, with long nails and a pearl bracelet. Soft and dead. I reached out for it, trying to speak, I knew the hand quite well, or so I had not seen this hand in a while. I tried to screech out. But hands from the fields behind me started to grab me and pull me into them. I leaned my upper body over, trying to grab the hand, I wanted to yell out, but nothing came out, just the sound of the wind. The other side of the field was lit on fire, engulfing the hand as I was pulled in. One gloved hand, a smaller hand with dirt in its fingernails, two children's hands, and a dead hand with long nails and a black sleeve.

My eyes opened wide, feeling the sweat pool on my back as I lay there and felt my lungs heave quickly. I swallowed, my throat dry as I moved myself away from the sleeping boy. He shifted in his sleep, turning his back to me as I climbed over his legs. My feet touch the ground, feeling the floor beneath them. Something felt off about this room, it wasn’t set perfectly. I mean, everything was in its place, the book Carl was reading, same color, same light, same bead, sheets and blankets… Something was different. I felt wrong as I stood in the middle of the room. It started to cave, the room was getting smaller, and the walls started to turn into shapes as I started to lose my balance. The humming was heard behind me, in different tones, pulling me towards the voice. Blackness. Sweat and a thud.

-

“He just got out and passed out,” Carl said, looking at the two for help. “He won’t wake up and he’s not responding.” 

Yelling was heard down the hall as Rick and Michonne got out of bed quickly, and raced down the hall with weapons in hand. The door slammed open, and the two looked around, expecting to see a different scene. Carl looked panicked on his knees, looking at my sweating, pass-out body as he held my head in his lap.

“Michonne,” Rick said, putting his gun down. She nodded and left the room. Rick made a quick effort to check my pulse. “He’s not doing so hot,” Rick said, feeling the heat radiate off of my body. He lifted my shirt up and slowly peeled off the bandage. “Jesus.” He said, covering his nose and pushing it back.

That made Carl panic more. “What? What is it?” He said, going to pull the bandage but Rick moved his hand back. The smell circled the room. “Dad.” He said, covering his nose. “What's wrong?” He questioned. 

Rick shook his head, looking at his son before pulling the bandage and turning on the bedside light. “That smell… that is the infection,” Rick said, looking at the deep wound. There was goo covering the bandage and wound. Carl's eyes widened.

Carl watched from his bed as Aaron, Toby, Daryl, and Carol came in with a carrier. Carol looked over the wound, whispering where Rick could not hear. Michonne had a medical box with her as they lifted my body on a board. Carol took off the old bandage and wiped down the wound with an alcohol wipe. They slowly carried me out of the room to take care of me somewhere else. 

Carl was left awake, in his room alone. His thoughts left him in worry. 

“Who checked him yesterday?” Rick asked, outside the medical building. Daryl shrugged. “That boy looks like death, his skin is rotting and nobody noticed?” He asked, looking at the group.

“Must have happened when he was taken off the IV,” Michonne stated, looking at the door. “But you're right, he shouldn’t have been brought out.” Rick sighed, hands on his hips. 

Fire. I burned through my veins. I was replaying the day over and over. The woods lit. Screaming and blood. Replay after replay.

A hand ruffled my hair as I pushed it off. My small hands patched up a jacket with a needle. “Me and some boys are going to go hunt for rabbit,” Negans said, looking down at me with a sight smirk. I smile back at him. “You be good and stay out of Bert's way, don’t think he likes us after the fight.” He whispered the last part and I nodded.

He had his bat and a bow. The others laughed and waved him over, he called to them and once again, ruffled my hair before leaving. There weren’t many people here, in the tiny civilization we called home. There were tents, big and small, for different families or groups. Groups of watchers are on the sides of the camp, keeping the people inside safe. 

I was in a group of girls, and my small body was not able to help the other boys, or at least that is what the others said, and my dad agreed with them. So I stayed with the other girls, helping out with washing, sewing, cleaning, and butchering. It wasn’t just because I was small. I played many sports and built up strength from them, but I was younger and smaller than the rest of the boys, even some girls my age. But I hadn’t minded, that meant I could stay away from one side of the camp. Bert ran half of the camp, and Harriot ran the other. They were connected, chores scattered in many places of the camp but both of them knew how to do two different things. Harriot was a kind woman, who showed me kindness and softness when meeting our small group at first. Then there was Bert, who hadn’t wanted us here in the first place. He fought my dad quite a lot. I’ve sometimes seen my dad grip his bat, looking at it in our shared tent when he thought I was asleep. Bert is an ass, to say the least. Someone you shouldn’t be near. But he wasn’t stupid. He kept his eyes trained on me most of the time. Sometimes I would make eye contact with him to see him glaring at me from afar. But he’d only mess with me when my dad was gone, or when Laura was not watching over me. 

I sat quietly, finishing up with the patched pants, that I was quite proud of, when I heard feet trail behind me. I look over my shoulder, folding the pants in my lap. Bert and a few boys, who looked like they wanted to kill me, stood with me with a grin plastered on his face.

“Boy.” He said, crossing his arms. “I think it’s time you do some real work, not sitting around like a little lady.” This made the boys laugh at me, I felt like a turtle that started to tuck into its shell. I glance at the pants and back at him.

“But… my dad said-” He interrupted me with a huff. “- blah, blah, blah.” He said, waving his hand. “I’m sure you’d be fine. You need to be a man, boy.” He said, grasping my arm and pulling me up. “Need to help or I’ll tie you in a tree, let the bitters get ya.” I gulped, nodded along with him as I stood, and placed the pants on the log where I sat. 

I was pulled along with the other group of boys, clearly smaller and younger than them. I let myself glance as we passed out of the camp ridge over at Bert’s side, near the butcher tent and fire. The dawn just started to settle. We stopped by the fire, where logs sat near a tree. “Now, c’mon boys.,” He said, clapping as they started moving logs. I looked around, confused without directions. Bert looked at me like I was stupid. “Dammit, boy. Move em’!” He yelled, pointing to the tent. I rapidly nodded and started to move the logs slowly. I had two in each arm, they were heavy but nothing I couldn’t manage. 

I felt the playful shove of my shoulder from one of the boys as he grinned and passed me quickly. I blush as I sit down the logs in the pile made. Older boy, by three years. 17, he was. I saw him around a lot, sometimes he would come and talk to me, ask me about how I used to live, or if I’d be joining him in some of the other's chores. Brunette with green eyes and a sweet apple-picked smile. His teeth were almost perfect, one back with a slight outward angle. He towered over me most times, but talked sweetly, sometimes pulling me to his chest when no one was around. Husten, or hue for short, was his name. He called me Pinky or Doll, he said it was because I always worked with the girls and I was smaller than him.

He’d brush my hair with his hands, playing with it, but listen to my ramble on about something stupid. He’d play with his foot under tables during supper, or bump my knee with his. He said his love language was physical contact. I remember, once I had a nightmare and wandered out at night where he was finishing up putting wood in the fire. He brought me back to his tent, where his father was out on watch. He had my head to his chest, rubbing my scalp and humming an old melody my mother used to sing. He rubbed my back until I fell asleep.

We always got along. It made me feel bubbly inside. However, I ignored this fact and went on with my chores. It started to get dark, and now the fire and a few lights lit up the trees as the boys finished up. I plucked up the last bit of logs as I stared at Hue, he was talking to some of the others. This caused me to trip over my feet and land in the mud. 

I heard laughter and a huge huff behind me as I lifted myself. The wood under me left my hands scraped and rugged. I hissed and looked at them as I was pulled up by my shirt collar. “Boy, you have annoyed me for the last goddamn time.” He said, gripping the sides of my arms. He then looked behind me and smiled. “Go get the rest, out past the orange line.” He said, pointing over to a spot that had been spray-painted. Danger at night. That is what it meant. The watchers could not see in specific spots at night and marked them not to go near at night and not to stray away from camp. You were only allowed over there if it was early morning and the watchers already checked the area. 

“Bert, it's not safe-” Hue tried to reason with the men, glancing at me. Bert interrupted him, shoving me back. “He has to be a man someday,” Bert stated, crossing his arms. “Now, go on boy, go get it.” 

I gulped and looked over to the darkness that clouded the trees. I gulped and looked back at him, other boys were smiling, grinning at my frozen state. It’s like they were waiting for my downfall. I breathed in, and out.

-

Carl stared at the body on the bed as monitors were giving the occasional beep. It had been a couple of days since the night. He sat close, sometimes going out of the walls for supplies or with his dad. Iris was also here a lot. She traveled back from Alexandria, conversating with Carl. Though, she said multiple times she wasn’t feeling it, standing around, waiting for the monitors to lead the beep on. Carl played with his hands, he’d open the blinds and let the sun pour into the room. His heart ran at times, wondering as he would space out for half hours and wonder. He left a stack of his comics on the bedside table to read when bored, but he never really had the thought to. 

(Two days ago)

Carol came out of the medical building and cleaned her hands. “The boy is fine. We needed to open the cut again. He stopped the bleeding, but the wound was still internal. We stitched him back up..” She paused, sighing as she looked at the group. “Kid knows what he’s doing, that was only meant to stop the bleeding until he could get attention. I’m honestly surprised he’s not dead… and Not to accuse anyone, but they should have known this was going to happen.” 

Rick, hands on hips and in thought, nodded. He rubbed his chin. “I… he’s only two years older than Carl, He saved Carl. That kid is different from his father and people need to see that.”

Rick was out in a few hours, looking for supply with Carl. They stopped at a gas station not too far along. Rick had a plan going along by now, Carl helped for the past two weeks, watching the plan form, and also understanding others were at war. 

“I’m glad he’s slept through most of this.” Said Rick, looking at Carl. Carl looked up at the sudden talk with a confused gaze. “He’s his father's son… but he’s got some different traits. Good traits.” He said, tilting his head as he looked at Carl. Carl only nodded. “Listen… He’ll be fine, He’ll be awake before you know it. The boy needs his rest." Silence bore into the conversation as Carl kicked a rock around. 

"How?" Carl’s eyebrows furrowed, refusing to look back up at his father's eyes. “How bad was it?” He whispered, looking at Rick's feet. Rick shook his head.

“Not the worst, but not the best. He could have died, honestly…” Rick heard Carl’s breath hitch. “Carol said he should be fine, it might take a while to fully recover.” 

-

I felt the slight wind knock against my skin, allowing me to shiver. The leaves crunched under my nervous foot as I passed the lined grass and into the seething darkness that captured me. I reached my destination. People behind me clapped as I picked up the last two logs. Heavy they were, as I turned on my feet and started to head back. 

-

As expected, the gurgling made me pause and freeze in my spot. I stared into pitch-black darkness. Nothing. I looked over at the group as Bert yelled at me to “hurry my ass up”. I gulped and started walking once again. I continued. I was at the fire that was near the butcher tent and orange line when a branch snapped to my right, and, in a split second, I hit a grill and fell onto the ground.

I could hear myself scream, having my clothed arm in its mouth, tearing at the leather. Its hands tried to reach my face. I felt the heat rise in my face, though I couldn’t tell if it was the situation I was in or the gigantic fire behind the biter. 

It was pulled off me in a matter of seconds. I rolled onto my stomach, the world spinning as I looked beside me. My eyes widened. Hue stood beside my lying body, a knife in hand as three biters crowded over him. Bert and the others were focused on the fire that was spreading rapidly. One lurched onto him, and he was able to kill that one, but the other was able to bite into his forearm, ripping out a chunk of skin. The third gripped his arm and bit into his neck, both causing a scream as he pulled it off. He kicked the third away, killing the second. 

I stared at him as he turned, holding his arm as blood started to flow out. “I-I… I-” I felt tears overflow my eyes as I stared at him. My hands gripped the dirt. He dropped his knife and fell to the ground in a sitting position as he stared at me. I was able to crawl over to him quickly, staring at him with wide eyes. He examined his arm, which continued to bleed out. He didn’t have long. 

“I… I like you, kid.” He said, with a smile, pain in his eyes. He breathed heavily. "You can’t be weak in this world… you’ll die just like me. Just like… I’m not built for this world.” He said. I shook my head and he only nodded, placing his bloodied hand on my face. I quickly held his bleeding forearm and he laughed, pressing his lips to mine, with little energy. “Run.” He whispered, falling against the tree he leaned on. I shook my head as I saw his eyes start to wave open and close. I heard him breathe in deep and shallowly, before letting his chest fall one last time. His eyes stared at me, keeping them open as I started to cry, shaking his shoulders.

“Wake- wake up!” I called him, his head falling. I gripped his sleeves, feeling my upper body start to fall and my forehead pressed against his knees as I sobbed.

Gripping hands threw me to the side and onto a tree. My pleas were unheard as Bert’s angry hands went to my face and threw me into the mud. The cutting started. Blood spilled down my arms. People ignored me, seeing me as a threat as he cut me up. I felt wasted, as blood rushed from my body slowly. My head was shoved into the dirt, and the fire was unsaveable.

People were rushing things away, trying to keep the fire from spreading further into the camp.

Everything was just a ringing tone in my ear. I felt the pain spread, and Bert's hands wandered as I lay helplessly on the ground. People refused to look at it, blaming the event on me, and letting me be cruelly punished. He would say things like, “You wanted all this attention, I’ll give it to you” or “I’ll get one last thing out of you before you die.” 

I felt tears welded into my eyes. My hands gripped the mud as he yanked off my clothes. What was I to do, weak, cut, and close to naked where nobody heard my cry for help, not even allowing a glance?

I remember his words. Run. I should have. I should have listened to Hue, he warned me. Like he said, you can’t be weak in this world.

Screaming. Not mine. I looked up, not moving my head. His face was ripped apart to where I could see his skull. Scared, I tried crawling away, but his grip stayed on me, not letting me go. I tried pushing away from him.

It wasn’t until someone pulled him off of me that I was able to get was, sobbing for the other to leave me alone. I was yanked up. “Hey, boy.” My dad said, looking over me. He yanked me to his chest, looking at the two dead. I saw. The biter ripped his face off, Hue. Dead. That made me cry harder as I stared at him. Everything started spinning.

Replay.

Chapter 9

[angel-sweets666]

Sweetheart~

Chapter 2 The creature x fem!reader

warnings! Murder, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of sex and a author who hasn’t actually watched the movie because it’s not streaming in Australia 😭😭

A/n CHAPTER TWO IS OUTTT (read chap one here) UGHHH, I’m sorry I’m not the best writer I feel like i rush things but I am learning, I’m going to try and release more fanfiction with more fandoms so it’s not all Lisa Frankenstein <3

It had been a few days since you and The creature had smashed Janet’s head into a sewing machine and cut off her ear to use it for his own purposes, taffy and your father were none the wiser! They think she is at a work trip. You walked downstairs in a lacy tank top, sweat pants and your hair in a messy scrunchie bun. Taffy giggled up at you “don’t tell mom but… it’s actually nice when she’s gone.. right dad?” She smiled warmly over to the other side of the table were your father was standing “uh… yeah.. it’s quiet” he said as he sipped his morning coffee and holding up the newspaper. You pulled the chair out and sat down “so uh… have we heard from her?” You questioned, acting clueless “nope! Must be realllll busy” taffy smiled innocently, not knowing the true fate of her mother. You bit your lip and nodded “mhm… yep…” you acted as normally as you possibly could; knowing you had murdered someone, or rather you were the accomplice to a murder. You used your manicured fingernails to tap on the table, making clicking noises “ah I love your nails! See it’s so nice to look after yourself” taffy giggled as she ate a strawberry “oh uh.. yeah..” you were awfully quiet…. “You okay? Your acting funny” taffy’s dark eyebrows furrow, her once bubbly smile dropping “oh I’m just.. worried about uh.. mom..” taffy’s eyes lit up ��AWWWW, it’s okay I bet she’s okay..” she rubbed your back to “comfort” you.

Once the breakfast was over you rushed to go back upstairs and to your room, the sounds of your feet against the carpet made a pitter patter as you rushed up the carpet “ughhh! What do I do?!” You yelped to the creature, he grunted and his body twisted towards you, making a sickening cracking sound from his rusty and old joints “okay.. ew… anyways, are you sure they won’t find the body?” You asked frantically, he groaned and slowly nodded; making a familiar cracking noise from his neck. “Are you sure sure?” You pressed. The creature seemed annoyed with your constant worrying about being caught. He grabbed your shoulders and held you in place, looking at you with a ‘it’s fine’ look. You sighed and began to count to ten in an attempt to calm yourself down “1….2….3….4….5… oh god… 6…7….8…9…” inhale “10…. Im calm… I’m very calm… I’m very very calm…” you sighed and leaned onto the creatures chest, noticing the lack of heart beat “oh.. yeah… your dead.. you.. you don’t have a heartbeat huh..?” You looked up at him, his somewhat stiff face looked back down at you as he grumbled in an attempt to say “yes”. Your shoulders slumped as you sighed, leaning back onto his “that’s… that’s okay..” you smiled and closed your eyes, for a dead man… he was oddly comforting…

the next morning…

you opened the closet door to find him against the wall, asleep. “Hey buddy..” you smiled and woke him up “I uh… I have an idea!” You smiled to the now stirred zombie man. The creature grumbles, tilting his head to the side “well.. remember how I went to that party the other day..?” You tried to jog his foggy memory, in hopes despite his heart not working, that his brain still worked! The creature nodded again, but it was slow and stiff due to the fact he was fresh out the tomb. “And remember how that Doug guy kept grabbing me and hitting on me and ended up yk.. sexually assaulting me..?” You asked him quietly and he nodded again “I think… we might just have a hand donor!” You looked down at the creatures “nub” which was where his hand mustve been in the 1830s. The creatures face lit up the best of its ability, you slowly walked over to the pink landline phone laying on your wooden table. Dialing a couple numbers then placing your phone to your ear

“Hello doug..? I was wondering if maybe, we could go on a walk with me today or tomorrow..?”

“yeah! Of course beautiful”

you grinned to the creature as a good sign, you suddenly put on your acting skills “oh thank you Doug… what time today?” You said as you twirled the cord around “2:30? Too easy. See you then~~”

2:30

“Hey… I’m so glad you came..” you said breathily to Doug, he smiled to you. You two started walking together in the woods as he grabbed your hand, you swiftly pulled your hand away from his hand “w-what you don’t wanna hold my hand..?” He seemed surprise that you didnt want to be romantic with him at all.“I… just wanna show you something” you said as you began to speed walk ahead of him. “Hey wait up!” He yelped, you slowly bushed some old bushes away to show him the bachelors grove cemetery. “This is my uh.. this is my spot!” You smiled and giggled as you held your hand out to him to follow you into the cemetery and to be honest he looked wary “r-really? A cemetery?” He stuttered, looking up at the metal sign…but by the time he lowered his head to look back at you; you were already way ahead of him. Little did he know the creature was waiting for him with a axe in one hand and a shovel in the other. Once Doug catched up to you, you acted clueless for a while, not even listening to his ranting about you and how pretty you were, as you looked over the thorny bushes you could see a head of curly hair, the creatures head of curly hair to be exact. The dirt and leaves crunched beneath your feet as you and Doug walked closer and closer to Doug’s future grave. The deep hole you and the creature had dug for him this morning waiting for him. Doug didnt even get to finish one of his many sentences before you violently shoved him into the hole, he screamed like a little girl “w-what?! *name* who’s this?! what.. what’s he doing?! Oh god…” he began to violently scream as the undead man hacked his hands off and then just began to swing the axe at him. Repeated blows turning Doug’s body into nothing but skin tissue and blood. You smiled as you finally got the revenge for the assault you faced at the hands of that grubby little boy.. you slowly climbed into the dirt hole and grabbed one of Doug’s bloody and amputated hands and held it up to the creatures wrapped up nub he once called his wrist “it’ll work” you shrugged and smiled to him, throwing the hand into a plastic bag with a uncomfortable thud.

The blue thread weaves in and out of the creatures skin, as you sewed the hand to him. Finishing up the last stitches “how’s that feel..? Handy?” You giggled, he didnt make a noise back “right yeah.. we gotta electrocute ya don’t we?” You smiled warmly to him, he seemed to have grown to you as a great comfort in your life. You had been miserable since the death of your mother and now.. the creature filled that void in some ways, he wasn’t your mother but he certainly was something. “Let’s go get ya zapped up huh..?” You went to go play with the curls in his hair “hm?” He grumbled and leaned into your hand “hey.. you’re actually pretty cute…” you muttered only to go a pink shade “w-what? Nobody said anything.” You tried to cover up what you said as you helped him up and down the stairs to the tanning bed. The creature stumbled into the tanning bed room, and laid down into the bed. You fidgeted around with the crank again until you could turn it on and close the magenta lid. You waited almost 15 minutes for him! A ear would take 5 minutes to attach, so a hand.. a whole limb! Must take longer right..? When the 15 minutes were up, the familiar ‘ding!’ Noise rang in your own ears, you jumped in surprise and quickly rushed to the tanning bed to see if it worked. Not only did it work, but it did something else. It made him look more…. Human. His face looked more alive and he had now grown eyebrows, a feature he lacked before. “Woah..” he looked at you, equally as surprised! You pulled him up so he sat up in the tanning bed, he looked at his new hand and attempted to wiggle it, the fingers wiggled and you gasped, clapping your hand excitedly “it worked! You have a hand, can you talk now?” Instead of trying to speak like you were suggesting, the creature stood up and offered his hand to you like men did back in the 1800s when they wanted to dance with a woman “no no.. I can’t dance” you turned away and before you knew it, he grabbed you and yanked you backwards towards him. You yelped in surprise, then looked up at his smiling face.

The creature spun you around, grabbed you by your waist and hand then kept slow dancing with you in the back yard.. you blushed deeply and leaned onto his chest. He bowed you down then brought you back up and once again, kept twirling and dancing; the green grass making a slight noise with each step, it felt so romantic… the hand that was originally on your waist reached to play with the scrunchie in your hair, and the curling iron curls in your hair. “W-what are you doing..?” You looked up at him, he made a hum noise “we.. we should go inside.. it’s getting cold…” you suggested, shivering against him.. he nodded slowly and ushered you inside; holding you firmly and securely by your waist, treating you like your made of porcelain…

You took him upstairs, into your warm cozy room. “Should we find you some cozy clothes..? I’ll let you lay in bed with me…” you said sweetly to him, his face lit up “mhm..” you smiled and then walked into the closet, looking around for a pair of pyjamas that would fit him, and you successfully found some old Christmas pyjamas “here you go!” You tossed it to him then ushered him into the closet, he stumbled out in the Christmas pyjamas “awe how cute!” You squealed and hugged him, he wrapped his arms around you, then you pulled away “oh wait I gotta get into my own pyjamas…. Don’t peek” you scolded him and he smiled, the creature sitting down on your bed. You put on a lacy night gown and placed your hair in braids with ribbons on the end and to finish it off, frilly cozy socks. “Tada!” You bursted out the closet, pretending to hold a fashion show for him, he tried ti laugh but it sounded more like a wheeze… oh yea… he’s dead. You laid into bed with him. You and him spent hours talking.. or rather, you talking and him making noises due to his lack of tongue. “If I’m going to die… I don’t want to die a virgin…” you said quietly, and he chocked on his own spit “what! Did you die a virgin..?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, “tsk…” the creature let out “your not gonna tell me..?” He shook his head “I tell you everything

he sighed

and held up one finger

“YOUR NOT A VIRGIN AND I AM? NOT FAIR”

a/n that’s the end of todays chapter! I would write part 3 but I’m honestly too lazy😖😖

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 22nd:  First concert | Triumph of King Freak - Rob Zombie | Eager a/n: a missing scene from an older fic, counting stars (when I look in your eyes)! post-canon fix, eddie pov, established steddie, fluff with a dash of angst, mention of eddie's late mother read on ao3 + ao3 masterpost | tumblr masterlist

December, 1988

“Why does your acoustic have that written on it? ‘This Machine Slays Dragons’?” Steve asks as he watches Eddie strum without looking at his hands. It’s a bit mesmerizing, the way his fingers glide along the strings of their own accord. 

The song stops and Eddie slaps the body of the guitar in his lap. 

“This old girl is an homage to one Woody ‘This Machine Kills Fascists’ Guthrie. Ever heard of him?” 

“He did ‘This Land Is Your Land,’ right?”

Eddie claps his hands together and points two finger guns his way. “Ding ding ding, we have a winner. Yeah, he wrote that and a shit ton of other political critique folk music.” 

“I didn’t know you liked that sort of thing. Sounds pretty far removed from Metallica, y’know?”

“Only in delivery. You’d be surprised how much overlap there is in meaning. But yeah, my uh—” Eddie stops and pulls the guitar closer to his torso and swallows the dust in his mouth that’s gathered from years of not talking about his mother. “My mom was a big fan of it. She loved Guthrie, Baez, Dylan, Grateful Dead, Cohen. You name it, she loved it.” 

Steve’s heart tries to claw its way out of his body to run towards Eddie sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, timid smile, and fidgeting hands. 

“That’s really cool, man. She sounds awesome. How come you don’t talk about her more?” 

“It just—I don’t know. It still hurts, I guess. Which is stupid, I was eight when she died so it should get easier, right?” Eddie laughs humorlessly and stares at his strings like they hold answers to questions he didn’t know he had. He wants to crawl on top of Steve, desperate for warmth and comfort now, and looking at him makes the urge damn near impossible to beat back. So he doesn’t look up. 

Steve adjusts his position on the bed, subconsciously making room. “Hell no, that’s not how grief works, Ed. Wish it was that easy but I’ve seen a lot of death personally and with work, and it changes people. You can tell me to fuck off if I’m like, overstepping here but you were a kid. You’re allowed to be sad about her death, and you’re allowed to talk about it.” 

Eddie pauses for a long moment, considering the validation and how much he trusts Steve. He trusts him with his life, his soul, his heart, his  everything. Maybe everything could include his past, too. His voice is wistful when he starts.

“She used to sing Dylan’s ‘Forever Young’ around the house.”

December, 1974

Eddie sits cross-legged on the floor, threadbare couch behind him as he flips through a comic book gifted to him by his Uncle Wayne. The page crinkle with each turn and he traces the illustrations of each villain and superhero, the words a bit lost on him but the pictures jumping off of the page. Varying shades of saturated reds and blues disappear and reappear beneath his pointer finger and grins. He hasn’t read the story yet– he prefers to make up his own first– but he can see that the good guy is about to win. 

Happy endings are just so rare in real life. 

His mom is in the kitchen, singing softly and stirring something on the stove in a corroded aluminum pot. Eddie picks up the delicate scents of tomatoes and peppers, maybe some kind of meat. She’s been in a bright mood today, singing as she cooks, singing as she did her best to clean up the beer cans and bottles that litter the living room. Eddie even heard her singing in the shower that morning.

It’s not lost on him that his dad’s been gone for a few days. Hell, that’s the only reason he’s able to sit in the living room: there’s room for him. 

His dad is always too loud, drowning out the soft soprano of his mother’s voice. Everything she sings sounds like a lullaby, so it’s fitting that Eddie closes his eyes to listen. 

Eddie loves when his mom sings, especially the song she’s singing now. 

May you always be courageous

Stand upright and be strong

May you stay forever young

May you stay forever young

She never tells him, but he feels like she sings it just for him. 

November 1990

Steve hasn’t been this nervous to give Eddie a Christmas gift since that first Christmas of theirs two years ago. Funny enough, the gift then had been related to his late mother, too. Maybe he has a pattern. The envelope shakes in his hands as he sits next to Eddie on the couch– their couch, actually. At least as of a few months ago when they’d put down their down payment on the small, one-bedroom apartment in the heart of Indianapolis. 

Eddie glances over and sees Steve’s right hand nearly crumpling whatever his gift is, his fingertips white and his smile tight. Whatever it is must be time sensitive, since he’s insisted on giving it to Eddie so early. 

“What is it, Steve? You look like you’re gonna shit yourself.”

Steve laughs, nervous and breathy. “I actually might, and we just bought this couch, so. Just– here. Open it.”

He pries the envelope from Steve’s hand and tears it open, Steve having to caution him against ripping it in half and voiding the fucking the gift. Three rectangles fall out onto his lap, full of typewriter style font. 

“Oh shit, concert tickets!” Eddie smiles and knocks his knee against Steve’s. “Why were you so nervous? This is awesome!” 

Steve nods at the tickets. “Did you see who it is?”

Eddie’d been too excited about finally getting to a proper concert, one that he doesn’t have to set up and break down with Gareth, Jeff, and Frank. When he looks down and actually reads the headliner, his heart stops. 

University of Dayton Arena Presents: BOB DYLAN TUESDAY, NOV 13 1990 7:30 PM

“Steve… is this…?” He can’t find the words, buried and lodged behind the lump forming in his throat. 

Steve watches him carefully as he traces the letters with one finger, a habit he’s picked up on over the years, and gently rests a hand on his thigh and gives it a squeeze. “You okay?” 

Eddie nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely okay.” 

Okay is an understatement. He’s bewildered, he’s humbled, he’s ecstatic. When Eddie tears himself away from the small rectangles that sit on his lap like the gold bars they are, he looks at Steve with wonderment. First, the music box. Now, this. How is he ever going to keep up? 

“I know it’s your first concert but I saw that he was coming around and I just figured it’d be cool, y’know? I don’t know who he’s touring with or anything–” 

He does this, Steve knows. He knows that he rambles when he’s nervous or when he’s put himself out there and for some reason, giving Eddie these tickets feels incredibly vulnerable. Even years later, even after Eddie’s constant reassurance that he could never, Steve would hate for Eddie to think that he’s encroaching on special memories. 

Before he can finish his stream of thought, Eddie kisses him. Just leans over, tickets still in his lap, and claps both hands on either side of his cheeks as Eddie plants one on him. Then again. And again. And again. 

Eddie peppers every inch of Steve’s face with kisses, interjecting in between each one. 

“You’re–” Kiss to the nose. 

“So fucking–” Kiss to the cheek. 

“Perfect–” Kiss to the forehead. 

When he finishes, Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, feeling them shake beneath him as Steve laughs. “Always so dramatic.” 

“And you love it. But, wait,” Eddie pulls back and picks the tickets back up. “Why are there three?” 

“Do you honestly think Wayne would ever speak to me again if I got tickets for Bob Dylan and didn’t include him? C’mon, man. Christmas would be so fucking awkward.”

[starsarefire824]

Demons of Change & Wildflower Eyes

They ride in silence for a long while after Mike asks for Will’s address. Mike knows the area, past Hawkin’s lab. It’s near Max’s trailer park. Quiet and dead and poor. Mike doesn’t say anything though. And Will doesn't offer up any other directions, assuming Mike already knows the way. Some old song comes on the radio. A mournful, eerie love song from the fifties or something and Will shivers when Mike rolls down the window. Mike notices as he pulls his sleeves over his hands and gathers the hood around his neck. 

“Are you cold?” Mike asks awkwardly into their suddenly heavy silence. 

Will shakes his head as he looks out the window. “No, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” Mike asks again, noticing the way his mouth twitches in discomfort. 

Will looks over at him and a smile spreads across his face. Something soft and sweet and used to hiding sadness. 

“Yeah,” he says again. “I’m fine.” 

Mike works his jaw and turns his attention back towards the double lined country road. He spots an old, familiar barn in the distance. They are coming up on old Merril’s farm. He can smell the sickly sweet stench of cow shit in the breeze. 

He watches the breeze blow the dead tips of corn left unharvested for cattle feed. They are no longer green and lush, but brown and dry and whispering to them in the wind. 

Mike pulls over quickly, dust flying up on the edge of the road as he rolls into the shoulder. 

Will grabs onto the handle of the car. “What are you doing?” he asks urgently, his shoulders gone stiff with alarm. 

Mike shifts his car into park and shrugs off his seat belt and jacket. 

“I have an idea,” he announces with a slight smile, suddenly feeling the need to make the night last longer. To spend a few more moments with this strange boy, on this strange night, the day before Halloween. Maybe there is something in the air. Maybe it’s Hawkins ghosts spurring him on. Maybe it’s Zombie Boy himself. He is a ghost too after all. Will Byers. The queer. The freak. The boy who came back from the dead. 

Troy had lots of conspiracy theories about what happened to him, most of them involving around being kidnapped by some other queer for sexual favors. Says that's what the cops told his dad. Mike isn't sure if he believes any of that, but if Troy only knew they were together. That they had hung out. Well, Mike doesn’t want to think of that right now. He’d be dead. He’d be beaten to a pulp. It’d ruin everything.

Mike shoves the door of his car shut against the thought and stomps over to where the grass meets the cornstalk wall, dirty headlights shining behind him like a spotlight. 

He smiles and turns around. “Come on,” he says, waving Will forward. 

Will is still standing next to the car, hands in his pockets and wearing a leery expression. He guesses that's fair enough.

“Come on!” Mike urges again, feeling desperate to coax Will out of whatever cocoon he’s woven around himself. 

“Mike—“ Will sighs with a nervous smile, looking down the road as if expecting something. “What are you doing?” 

Mike’s eyelids flutter and he stuffs his hands in the back pockets of his worn black jeans. “A race,” he announces with a goofy smile. “We’re gonna race.” 

Will ambles around the front of the humming car and snickers as he stands before him. “A race?” He asks, his thick eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You and me,” Mike answers matter of factly. What else would he think? “I dare you.”

Before Will can answer Mike’s already counting down. 

“Three!” Mike crouches slightly.

“Two!” His heart beats in his chest.

“One!” He pushes off! Running head on into the sea of dried corn. Mind blank and the dew already soaking the ankles of his pants.

“Mike!” He hears Will’s voice call out. “Mike—- wait !” 

Mike is vaguely aware that Will is behind him. That he's running too.

“Mike!” He calls again, but Mike can feel Will at his back. He’s gaining on him. And so he pushes forward. 

Runs faster. 

“Come on!” He calls back to Will. “Catch me!” 

Mike squints, ignoring how the corn stalks slice his bare arms, his cheek, and the skin along his ribs.

The light of the car has dimmed and he can’t really see in front of him. There’s nothing but the faded blue light cast from the sliver of moon left in the sky. Mike doesn’t know what he’s doing out here, past midnight on a school night trespassing in a forgotten field with the last person he’d ever expected. Yet he is . And he feels alive for the first time in a very long time, and so he pushes forward. Revels in the way his body shivers at the cold and the dew and the stranger’s fingers tugging at his bicep. 

“Mike!” he hears Will call once more before he’s tumbling, the sea of corn turning around him like a shaken up kaleidoscope. He doesn’t know where he ends and the field begins, like when he was nine years old and got caught in a wave when his family went to the ocean on the East Coast one summer. He’s falling and he’s sure that Will is going with him. They twist and turn, hands gripping for dear life and legs flying over their heads. 

The two of them land in a jumbled heap and Mike cries out in pain when he feels something sharp jab him in the ribs. It could be an elbow, a hand, a rock. He isn’t sure. There is something strong gripping his back, fingers prodding at his shoulder blades.

The air is thrown out of his lungs and his gasps turn into laughter. When he lifts his head he can’t breathe, because Will is beneath him, mouth slackened and lungs heaving in his chest, eyes dark and excited and utterly shocked. His breath is hot upon Mike’s cheek as he breathes.

They’re chest to chest and Mike must be crushing him. His pelvis digs into his and the insides of Will’s thighs brush along the sides Mike’s legs. They’re basically hugging, like two lovers screwing in some sun beaten field in one of the romance movies his mother loves. His laughter dies on his lips.

Mike blinks at Will and sighs out. He watches him open his mouth as if to say something, but can't seem to find the words. Mike feels Will’s nails dig in at his back where he’s clung for dear life as they fell. 

Will looks terrified and Mike feels his body go rigid beneath him.  

“You have a cut,” he finds himself saying, his thumb swiping blood across Will’s full bottom lip. It stains it a deep shade of pink and Will breath quivers as much as his body. 

Mike watches his tongue dart out, licking away the blood and leaving his skin wet with spit. The sight of it pulls at him. Lures him, like some fucking siren in one of the poems he read in English class. He brushes a wavy chestnut tendril back from Will’s eyes and…presses his lips to his. It’s almost nothing at first, featherlight. A barely there touch of their lips. Mike’s heart pounds in his chest and he breathes out as he lets his tongue slide along Will’s lip. He tastes like blood and earth and sweet like maple syrup. Then Mike takes hold of his chin and when he feels Will’s fingers press gently at the back of his neck slides his tongue in his mouth in a blood-sticky, slick, and hungry kiss. 

Will hums underneath him and his thighs press into Mike’s sides, making a sharp, jarring ache stampede through his body and he forgets himself. Forgets who Will is. Who he is. Forgets that this isn’t normal. This isn’t right. But he can’t help it. He feels so good. And Will kisses him back and his hand slides gently down his back. Mike wants to press closer to him, he wants to rock his body against him, he wants to lift up his shirt, undo his pants, and feel his skin, press him harshly into the dirt and make his body shake with his mouth. 

But that doesn’t happen. Instead there’s a firm shove at his chest and he’s falling backwards, rolling roughly on to his back, the smell of damp earth and decaying plants twinging his nostrils. Will sits up, his heavy breathing puffing out in thick clouds and eyes the same color as grass and dirt are frenzied and wild. They sit there frozen and staring at each other for Mike doesn’t know how long. 

Mike rests on his elbows and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he mutters, a wave of shame coming over him. You are so fucking stupid. Some kind of nasty faggot. Slut. 

“No,” Will says quietly and Mike peels his eyes away from the ground and forces them to meet Will’s. He’s surprised to find something light tugging at his lips. Almost a smile. 

“Yeah?” Mike sighs, still catching his breath.

Will nods at him and swallows heavily. “Yeah—I mean…I’m just surprised.” 

“You and me both,” Mike says with a cautious smile, wiping his hair back from his face and tucking it behind his ear. 

Will picks at a thread where a patch in his jeans is tearing away. “I should get back though. My mom is probably home from work and freaking out.” 

Mike nods and shoves himself to his feet. He turns to offer a hand to Will. He takes it. 

[creepylittlelady]

TOBY AND EJ IN YOUR AU PLEASE

Hello, sorry it took me so long to respond! I was quite busy today lol

I like Toby and EJ, so I have quite a bit on them! Sorry if you don't like them because they're not the most canon accurate, they're actually a bit more on the fanon side in some parts ;) I wanna give some more slice-of-life headcanons but if you want more serious ones I'll give them to you!

Toby

-So you know that 'Toby loves waffles :3" thing? Well in my AU it was a thing that happened but just not to that extreme. When he first moved into the mansion (Yes this is a Slendermansion AU), Waffles were his safe food and he ate them quite a lot, making the other residents at the time to make an inside joke about Toby loving waffles. These days he can't even look at a waffle without Jeff and Ben screaming "SAY THE LINE!" and staring at him until he says it.

It basically goes like:

Slender: What do you want for breakfast? Toby: *nervously fidgeting* Toby: *whispers* Waffles. Ben, from the other side of the room: DID I JUST HEAR SOMEONE SAY WAFFLES?? Ben and Jeff, in unison: SAY THE LINE TOBY! *UNCOMFORTABLE EYE CONTACT* Toby: *sighs* I love waffles. Ben: FUCK YEAH! Toby: I hate this stupid house.

-He's basically immune to Slender Sickness. Due to being around Slender so much he doesn't feel nauseous around him and gets really confused when newer residents get it when they first see him.

-He often has periods where he's really apathetic to most things and doesn't care, and then in the blink of an eye becomes an uncontrollable mess. He's got poor emotional regulation and when he gets irritated he goes into a RAGE about it.

-He secretly learnt Necromancy from a book in the Library and used it to try and bring back Lyra (is Lyra still a canon thing? Apparently she's her own character but I'm not sure at all). But Necromancy is a really difficult thing to accomplish so although he PARTIALLY brought her back she's more like a mindless zombie.

-Sometimes he'll visit his mother's house in the dead of night and leave presents for her. It's just something he does subconsciously that nobody knows about. On occasion Connie wakes up while he's doing it, but she just assumes that she's seeing things.

Every year on her birthday he breaks into her new house and places an inconspicuous birthday present on the dining table. She'll wake up the next morning incredibly confused on how it got there. Toby wishes that he and his mom can really meet again one day.

-Him and Natalie's relationship is...turbulent, to say the least. They've gotten together and broken up so much that nobody knows when they're dating anymore. They're really close regardless and hang out a lot, but they just hook up sometimes randomly, go on one date and break up again.

-His dad currently resides in the Underworld and Toby's met him several times. Due to his father being a sinner, the lowest of the low, Toby often beats him and stabs him with his axe every time he sees him. It's all perfectly legal.

-He frequently forgets random information about himself. Like at times he'll wake up and forget it's his birthday that day, he'll forget his age, sometimes he'll even forget his own name. Like deadass Masky will call his name like a million times and he'll be like "Man I hope this Toby fella answers soon".

-His closest friends are Masky, Hoodie, Kate and Natalie. He doesn't actually like Jeff all that much as he sees him as a dick, and he's pretty neutral towards most other people in the mansion. He HATES Ben and finds him scary, he won't even make eye contact. He prefers Eyeless Jack over the two of them however as he's Jeff and Ben's close friend he doesn't talk to him much.

-He actually secretly dislikes most of the mansion residents. Although he's pretty nice to everyone since he believes in yk not being a major bitch he doesn't care about most of them.

-MASSIVE PYROMANIAC, since he can't feel pain he doesn't really feel a sense of danger such as when there's a fire or when there's an enemy nearby.

-Okay, without delving too deep into my AU, he's one of the only ones who knows what's up 'going on' behind the scenes with Slenderman and Zalgo. He's somewhat aware of it so when an 'incident' happens he'll mainly be apathetic to it. Often times when Slenderman 'disappears', he'll cover for him.

-His mouth and jaw are incredibly numb so he can't really taste food, sometimes food will slip out of his mouth and he just won't know.

-When it comes to Sally and Lazari, he actually really likes them but sometimes when he's in his more irritable moods he finds them incredibly annoying and has snapped at Lazari a lot of times.

-When it comes to 'Missions' (like Proxy stuff), he's the only one that ever actually obeys Slender's orders. He has to remind Masky and Hoodie of what they're meant to be doing so much it tires him so he just lets them do what they think they're meant to do and laugh when they screw it up.

-He finds it funny with other people make mistakes, like he'll die of laughter when Laughing Jack hits his nose against a door.

-He owns a can of Pepper Spray that he'll use against Ben, Nina or the other ratchet Pastas when they get too crazy.

-Sometimes he'll act like fanon Toby, but more as a means of sarcasm. When Masky and Hoodie first met him they thought he was being serious so chocked him up as some incompetent loser, but he quickly let them know that he meant business.

-His love language is giving people random stuff. Like not even expensive stuff but if he likes you he'll hand you something random that he thinks you'll like. Or he'll give you a fun fact about a topic he knows you're interested in. He has a bunch of random Edgar Allen Poe or Drawing facts for Slender and Natalie. Once he gave Masky a black Sharpie he found lying in the woods for some reason.

-He's such a terrible singer on GOD but the thing is is that he loves singing so much that nobody can bring it up to him that he's shit at it.

-He has a lot of vocal tics, like he'll hum a random melody or yell "GOO GOOBIE!" randomly. Everyone's used to it. He's actually terrible at hiding from his victims because of this. He also has a tic where he throws WHATEVER is in his hands at that current moment right up into the air. Sometimes it's funny but other times it's concerning, especially when he's holding his own axe.

-Doesn't like video games because he finds them annoying and stressful.

-Once he got so mad at everyone that he checked himself into a Psych Ward under the name "Erin Rogers" and stayed there for a good six months. Everyone was so worried about him for a half of year and genuinely thought he was dead or in serious danger until one day he just waltzed back into the Labrinth unharmed and was like "Hey guys guess you've been wondering where I've been".

-He doesn't perceive the idea of people worrying about him so he does a lot of concerning things and doesn't realise that people genuinely worry for his safety sometimes.

-He's got no filter, or just has a really lax one. He'll say basically anything that comes to mind out loud, even if it's offensive to the person he's currently talking to.

-The kid goes missing A LOT. Slender actually had to file a Missing Persons Report for him because he disappeared for 4 months without contacting anyone. He comes back fine every time but he never tells anyone where he goes.

-Adding on to this, I kinda headcanon that he has a strange form of Amnesia where for months on end he'll forget who he is, anything about himself or his past, or even who anybody is around him. This causes him to run away frequently.

-He subconsciously uses himself as a human shield every time one of his friends is in danger. He'll throw himself in front of Masky and Hoodie if they're about to be shot by an Underworld General or something.

-Thinks that blood is really tasty and often will lick his own blood. This dude is NOT sanitary.

-Takes like one shower a year because he just forgets that he has a human body that gets dirty. Which is weird considering he's outside in the dirt and in a puddle of blood like every other day.

-He doesn't have a concept of boundaries so often time's he'll grab someone suddenly if he wants their attention. Usually it's harmless and the new Pastas get used to it eventually, but sometimes it's problematic when he grabs Lazari's horns or LJ's cone nose without their consent.

-Because in my AU Slenderman's Forest is a Labrinth where people don't age, although he's maybe in his 20s now he's still the exact same as he was when he was 17. He doesn't have a concept of time so this doesn't phase him as much as it phases EJ.

SPEAKING OF EJ...

Eyeless Jack

-He's got demon ears, and a demon tail. Yes that's right EJ IS A FURRY!!! Just Kidding but he does have some characteristics of a demon.

-There's a slight different between a Half-Demon like Lazari and a transformed demon like EJ. For one EJ has WAY more demonic urges than Lazari does and whilst hers are manageable, EJs definitely aren't. If he wants to kill, he has to do it otherwise he'll harm everything in his way, including himself.

-He's tried to cannibalise himself out of frustration several times, and his arms are now just permanently in bandages. Toby hits him with the Pepper Spray everytime he sees him chewing on any body part at all.

-When he's not submitting to his Demonic Urges, he's a really chill and nice guy. He's way more sane than anybody else in the Mansion and thinks everyone's unique and likes to observe them. His dream was always to be a doctor to support his parents and help others, so often times he takes care of people when they're sick.

-His demon side isn't that scary since he won't harm anybody he's close to, only himself and random people he comes across. Of course, you'll be terrified when you first see him absolutely DEVOURING the dead corpse of some random girl, but he'll always tell you that he'll never hurt you, even when he's in his Demonic State.

-Although he's an incredibly nice guy, he suffers severely with trust issues, especially when it comes to Romantic Affairs. Upon realising that Sally and Lazari were shipping him with all sorts of people, he got incredibly angry and told them that it wasn't okay.

-He's uncomfortable with romance in general after what happened with Jenny and doesn't see anybody in the Mansion as a potential Romantic Partner, since he sees relationships as something that will always end terribly and he doesn't want to soil his friendships with anyone.

-He's very close to Jeff and Ben, often coming along on their strange adventures just to watch. He believes that they aren't as bad as Toby thinks they are, so he finds it fun to hang out with them.

-He and Jeff are jokingly (KEYWORD JOKINGLY) romantic towards each other after finding out that Lazari had written fanfiction about the two of them. Although he doesn't like being shipped, Jeff helped turn into more of a funny inside joke.

-Although he has an affinity for human organs in his Demonic State and still nonchalantly consumes Kidneys regularly, he doesn't actually like meat. He's not really Vegan or Vegetarian, but he'll choose a Salad over a Steak, if you get what I'm saying.

-He's a valuable asset to the house due to his medical knowledge, and because of this is quite close to Dr Smiley and Nurse Ann, and often helps assist them with more serious cases like Natalie's eye infection and Jeff's mouth...injuries.

-He's one of the few people in the Mansion that actually liked Nina when she came, since most hated her initially, EJ helped her settle in and get to know everybody. He helps her a lot, especially when it comes to drama with her and Jeff.

-He really likes rock music and can play Guitar really well. He's not a great singer but can play an Acoustic Arrangement for any song you request him to do.

-Him and Liu are very close friends and helps Liu with panic attacks and sleep paralysis.

-He has a strictly PLATONIC relationship with everyone in the Mansion and outright discourages dating between residents, and didn't really approve of Natalie and Toby's relationship. Because of this he has no problem touching people in any way or sleeping in the same bed as people.

-As I said earlier, he did disapprove of Natalie and Toby's former relationship and advised them to break things off early, but he didn't really want to outright sabotage them. However, his own former trust issues subconsciously make him sabotage any romance he sees. He even discourages people on having CRUSHES in the Mansion.

-His trust issues cause a lot of problems, actually. Although he has no problem touching people or getting in their personal boundaries, he'll be PISSED if anybody grabs him suddenly or tries to hold his hand or anything like that.

-He has a rivalry with Laughing Jack over who's the better Jack. So far they're both even. Eyeless Jack insists that one day he'll win and be the true Jack.

-Okay in all seriousness EJ has been through a lot of shit, especially when he turned into EJ. I remember when I was little I saw this Creepypasta named "EJ Returns" or something like that where he was tied up in some Demon Hunter's basement.

This has happened to him a lot of times. Sometimes when he suddenly turns back to normal after eating somebody he'll get caught and he's the least fortunate out of everyone in the sense that the people that he gets caught by are ALWAYS occultists.

-He often has nightmares about being in this situation and because of this HATES basements and never goes into the Mansions basement unless there's a rotting corpse in there that he wants to eat.

-He desperately misses his old life, more than most of the Pastas do. Since his family and old friends are still alive he makes it an unhealthy habit to stalk them and follow them around in real life.

-In my AU, Jack Nyras is still a missing person and his disappearance was so mysterious that his case is still talked about on True Crime Podcasts. It was a nasty shock when he turned on the radio one day to discover people creating conspiracy theories on what really happened to him.

-When he came to the Mansion, his reaction was similar to Pomni from TADC. He believed it wasn't real. He broke down and wouldn't leave his room for WEEKS, and it was actually Jeff who brought him out of his shell. Although most Pastas think Jeff is a stuck up asshole EJ does have a sort of appreciation for him.

-He's blind, and although has a walking stick knows his way around the Mansion well enough to not need a guide. His sense of smell and his hearing is incredibly good.

-There's a lot of Braille books in the Library, and the section for it is referred to as the "EJ Section".

-He really likes Harry Potter and watches the movies every year.

-Jeff actually found him right outside the Forest, desperately consuming the flesh of someone Jeff had killed a day prior.

-Jack's sexuality is unknown, but we do know that he is at least attracted to women. He's claimed to have found men hot before but we may never know if he was telling the truth.

-His tail only really comes out when he's in his Demonic State, and yanking on it will NOT get you a good reaction.

-He has a fascination with watching people sleep. Don't ask him why, because he wouldn't tell you the answer.

-Upon his knowledge of what's 'going on', he has an understanding due to Toby constantly covering for Slender and Zalgo's strange behaviour. Due to being uncontrollably violent at times himself, he's sympathetic to whatever's truly going on but doesn't want to get involved.

-He does jobs with the Proxies quite a lot to the point where he even gets a paycheck (The Proxies are not slaves in this AU).

-He's really good at video games and even buys Ben a new Majora's Mask cartridge every year on his birthday to celebrate. Ben sees EJ as one of his favourite people and because of this tells him a lot about what his life was like before Drowning, but EJ won't tell.

-He owns a possessed item. It's a stuffed rabbit named Judas whom he insists can talk, but only when there is nobody else nearby. Lucy read Judas' aura and concluded that whoever is possessing Judas is a malicious entity. Despite this, EJ hasn't gotten rid of him.

-He discovered Nina and Liu and were the ones to bring them to the mansion.

-Due to the Forest being a Labyrinth and preventing it’s residents from ageing, EJ is constantly having an existential crisis on how old he is. Is he 19? Is he 29? Is he 50? He has no idea and worries about it everyday

Well, these are just some of them to get the ball rolling! I hope you liked them! If you want some more AU backstory I'll be happy to give more details ;)

If you want any more of them, whether it be on a specific topic, serious or light-hearted, feel free to ask! This was fun to write, I hope you enjoy reading, please correct me if I say anything that's too out of canon :3

If you’d like to ask for any characters in specific, any AU lore or any questions in general about the world then go ahead I promise I’ll try my best to always respond!!!

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Your post apocalyptic Hobie thing may have sparked my dormant need to write a fic about him

Penny for your thoughts? More hc’s??

These are just the ones that pop into my head right away so they might not be 'brilliant' but -

Hobie is no doubt a master of booby traps. His base his and stops are covered in them.

Nothing too dangerous, but things like trip wires connected to strung-up cans that make noise, cages that cage in zombies or intruders, etc.

It shows off his engineering skill, and it's just one of the many precautious he has around - wouldn't want anyone sneaking up on him right?

Post-Apoc Hobie plays an acoustic guitar, because electric guitars require amps and electricity. But his acoustic guitar is just as beat up and sticker-covered.

LOVES canned beans (because they're popular in Britain lol)

Loves taking in stray animals that aren't zombified.

This included his coup full of messenger pigeons, that helps him communicate with other survivors.

He also repairs old radios, and tries to air broadcasts with he can, contacting other survivors.

He collects old CDs and Vinyls he finds at stores. They take up precious energy from the generator, but it reminds him of a time when things hadn't gone to complete shit.

He squatted in Buckingham Palace at one point, tearing up all the expensive stuff and turning it into things he could use for survival (and also messing with the dead royals' shit)

He has A LOT of rock climbing equipment, like chalk and hooks and rope, to help him climb over the destruction

Like, he's REALLY good at 'urban rock climbing'

There were state sanctioned underground bunkers for police, military, and their friends. Eventuall, even these got zombified at one point -

He met Post-Apoc!Gwen in one of these bunkers. Her dad had become zombified, and he had came to her rescue.

He's great at first aid - that came before the whole shitshow, back when he helped protestors that protested the human trials that would turn into the science-lab-mishap that started the whole apocalypse.

He makes his punk jewlery out of found things - like soda tabs, scrap metal, etc.

He openly feels bad about killing zombies, and he'll reveal this - only if he's close with you. He still recognizes they were once humans. He doesn't enjoy it that much - though it can be cathartic

He will always take any book he can. He stook piles them, says that they're worth saving for the future generations.

He also does this with medicine, breaking into labs and old colleges in hopes of finding old samples and a potential cure'

These are just random ones I have off the top of my head - they may not be much, but yeah :))))

I LOVE HIM

[bjfinn]

MOTHER'S DAY

"Mom???"

"It's so good to see you again, Pumpkin," Emily said. "I've missed you."

Lydia jumped up and threw her arms around her mother, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh, God, Mom! " she exclaimed, laughing and crying at the same time. "I've missed you so much! I -- I ... oh, God! "

Emily hugged her tightly, and then she held the girl at arm's length. "I'm back."

Lydia sniffed loudly. "But ... how? "

"I -- I don't know," Emily replied, shaking her head.

"Are you ... are you real? " But Lydia knew the answer -- she'd felt the warm of her mother's touch, the beating of her heart. Emily Deetz was back. In the flesh.

Then a thought occurred.

"Beej," Lydia said. "It was Beej. He brought you back. Somehow." Ghost zombie Jesus, indeed.

At the sound of his name, Beej appeared. "Hey, Lyds!" he said, grinning. "What's going ---" He stopped, eyes wide, gaping comically at the woman standing beside his BFFFF. "Holy crap! "

"Beej!" Lydia exclaimed, grinning happily. "You did it! Thank you so much!"

The demon shut his mouth and shook his head. "N-no," he replied. "No, I didn't do this. I'm don't know how it happened, but it wasn't me."

Lydia's brows furrowed. "If it wasn't you ... then how --" She looked back and forth between them in confusion.

"I don't know," Beej said. "I don't think this has ever happened before."

He stepped up to Emily, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Who are you really? "

"Beej!" Lydia chided. "It's my mom -- I know it's her! I can feel it."

The demon sniffed at Emily like a dog. "You don't smell like a demon," he said at last. He shook his head. "No, you're not a demon, or a ghost -- you're a breather. You're really Lydia's mom?" he asked.

Emily nodded.

"I don't get it," Beej said. "I mean ... why you? Why are you the only breather who gets to come back? What's so special about you? "

"I don't know," Emily replied.

Beej shook his head again, trying to process. "Well," he said. "This sure complicates things."

"What do you mean?" Lydia asked.

"Dee," came the reply. "She's married to your dad now, remember?" His hair turned purple. "You get your mom back, but I'm gonna lose mine."

Lydia's face fell. "I ... I'm sorry," she said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Beej," Emily told him. "I'm not going to make Delia go away -- I don't want to disrupt anything. I don't know why I came back, but I'm sure it wasn't for that. I just want to be part of my daughter's life -- for as long as I can. You won't lose Delia because of me, I promise."

He looked down at the floor, unconvinced. She put a finger under his chin and gently lifted it, raising his gaze. "You've been a very good friend to Lydia," she told him. "And you're a part of this family now -- a very important part."

The side of Beej's mouth twitched.

Lydia put her arms around him. "You're my best friend," she told him. "More than that -- you're my big brother. You're not going anywhere, and neither is Delia."

Beej smiled tentatively. "You mean it?"

Lydia nodded and gave him a playful punch on the arm. "Yeah, you big dweeb!" she replied.

"Okay," the demon said, grinning happily, his hair green once more. "Uh ... what are we gonna tell Chuck and Dee?"

*****

"Lydia -- Pumpkin -- what do you mean Emily's back?"

"It's true, Daddy -- Mom came back," Lydia replied. "I don't know how, and I don't know why, but she came back from the dead."

"Lydia," Charles said, shaking his head ruefully. "People don't return from the dead -- it's just not possible."

"After everything that's happened -- after meeting Beej -- how can you be sure?

'There are more things in Heaven and Earth', and all that."

Charles took a breath, held it for a moment and then let it out. "Good point."

"Who's to say what's possible and what isn't?" Delia said. "Maybe Lydia's grief was so strong that ... something took pity on her and decided to do something about it." She looked at Lydia. "Are you sure it wasn't Beej?"

"He says it wasn't," Lydia replied. "And I believe him -- he was shocked when he saw my mom standing there."

"Uh ... where is your mother now?" Charles asked.

"She's waiting in my room -- I wanted to prepare you before you saw her." She went over to her bedroom door and opened it. "Okay, Mom," she said.

Charles and Delia both gasped when Emily came out of Lydia's room, Beej following.

"Hi, Charles," she said. "Miss me?"

Charles jumped up and raced over to her, and he gathered her into his arms. Tears began to spill down his cheeks. "Emily," he breathed. "Emily -- it really is you." He released her and smiled. "You look just like I remember."

He looked over at Delia. "Emily," he said. "This is Delia -- my, uh ..."

"Your wife," Emily finished, smiling. "I know. I'm glad you found someone else." To Delia she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Delia. I want to thank you for everything you're doing for Charles and Lydia. And I want you to know that I don't want to take your place in this family -- you're Charles' wife and Lydia's step-mother. That won't change, I promise you."

"Th-thank you," Delia said. "It's nice to finally meet you, Emily."

"I understand that you've become a mother of sorts to Beej, as well."

Delia nodded. "We've become very close," she replied. "Uh ... have you met Adam and Barbara? They're the former owners of our house."

"They're ghosts," Beej said. "We all live here together."

Emily's eyes widened. "Really? Well, that's certainly --"

"Strange and unusual?" Lydia quipped. "Yeah, you could say that."

"I'll call 'em," Beej said. "BABS! SEXY! COME AND MEET LYDIA'S MOM!"

A moment later, the Maitlands came running down the stairs. They stopped short when they saw Emily.

"Oh, my God!" Barbara exclaimed, covering her mouth with both hands.

"How did --" Adam began.

"Who knows?" Beej said with a shrug. "Who cares? Point is, Lydia got her mom back! And we're all gonna be one great big happy family!"

*****

"How do you feel about Emily being back?" Delia asked the next morning.

Beej shrugged. "I'm happy for Lyds," he said. "She seems like a nice person."

"But?"

Beej sighed. "I mean, what if she and Chu-- Dad -- decide they wanna be together again? What happens to you? You're gonna leave ... and I don't wanna lose you -- you're my mom."

"Oh, honey -- that's not going to happen," Delia reassured him. "Emily said she doesn't want to come between me and Charles, and Charles isn't the kind of man to do that. He believes in the sanctity of marriage. And neither of them would want to put Lydia through that.

"And besides," she said, giving him a hug, "we don't know if her being back is permanent yet." She looked at him. "Do ... do you know?"

The demon shook his head. "No," he told her. "I never heard of anything like this happening before." He paused. "I hope it is permanent -- it'll kill Lydia to lose her mom a second time."

*****

"Are you and Daddy going to get back together?"

"Like I said, I have no intention of coming between your father and Delia."

"Good," Lydia said. "I mean, I'm really happy you're back and I hope it's for good, but I don't like the idea of my mother being the other woman, you know?"

Emily smiled. "Neither do I."

"And besides, Delia and Beej have become really close -- she's kind of his new mom now, ever since he came back after killing Juno."

"Who's Juno?"

"She was his real mom," Lydia told her. "She was a demon, and she hated him. She was always so mean to him. And when she crashed our wedding --"

"What?"

"It was a green card thing -- Beej needed somebody to marry him so he could become human. Anyway, she tried to take us all to Hell, but he killed her and saved all of us. Then he went to find his father, and when he came back a few months later, we all ... kind of adopted him -- especially Delia."

"I see."

"Yeah, so it'd kill him if she left -- and he's my best friend. And my big brother now. I don't want him to get hurt."

"Well," Emily said, "you have nothing to worry about -- I promise."

*****

Over the next few days, Emily settled into the family -- but there was a bit of awkwardness with Charles.

"Charles," she said, "I think we need to talk about ... the situation."

He took a deep breath. "I suppose you're right."

"First, let me assure you that I have absolutely no intention of disrupting your new life with Delia -- she's your wife now, and I respect that."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied. "I still love you, and I always will, but ..."

"Good," she said. "I mean, I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Besides, it wouldn't be good for Lydia -- she's been through enough."

"Yes, she has," Emily agreed. "But you've done a wonderful job with her."

Charles shook his head ruefully. "No, I haven't," he told her. "In fact, I almost ruined everything. After you died, I thought the best thing to do would be not to talk about you -- I thought it would make both of us feel worse. I couldn't see that talking about you, reminiscing about you, was exactly what she needed.

"And I hired Delia to be Lydia's life coach because I thought she was wallowing in her grief -- but I was the reason she was wallowing. I pushed her away, and she very nearly killed herself because of it. If it hadn't been for BJ ..." He shook his head again. "That demon was more of a help to her than her own father."

"You made some mistakes," Emily said. "Everybody does. But you thought you were doing the right thing -- that's all anyone can do. And you were struggling with your own grief, so don't be too hard on yourself."

"You always did know how to make me feel better," he conceded, smiling. "Welcome back, Emily."

*****

"Lydiaaa!!! " Beej wailed. "Why didn't you tell me about Mother's Day???"

"Sorry -- it didn't occur to me that you didn't know about it."

"How many holidays do you breathers have, anyway?"

"Lots."

He scowled comically. "Great. So how do we celebrate this one?"

"By showing our mothers how much we love and appreciate them."

"Okay, uh ... I don't know how to do that."

"It's not as much work as Christmas," she assured him. "I always used to get my mom some flowers and make her breakfast in bed, and we'd spend the day together."

"Flowers, breakfast, spend the day together -- got it. Uhh ... how much time do we have?"

"It's tomorrow."

"Tomorrow??? How are we gonna do all that in time for tomorrow???"

"Relax," Lydia said, laughing. "We'll go get the flowers this afternoon, and we'll do a brunch instead of breakfast." She stopped. "We should include Barbara, too -- she's been like a mom to both of us, and Mother's Day would probably be a little hard on her since she had a miscarriage."

"Yeah," Beej agreed. "Sometimes I feel bad for her and Adam."

*****

"Happy Mother's Day!"

Emily, Delia and Barbara, seated at the dining room table as Lydia had instructed, turned to see the teenager and her adopted ghost-demon brother enter -- each bearing a tray of brunch dishes.

"Oh, my!" Barbara exclaimed. "What is all this?"

"Pancake tacos, sun-dried tomato, mushroom and spinach tofu quiche, morning glory muffins," Lydia replied with a smile. "Also kiwi-mango-pineapple smoothies ... and mimosas, of course."

"I made those," Charles said from the doorway.

"This is wonderful!" Emily said. "Thank you both!"

"And it's all vegan," Beej added. "So my mom can have it, too. Don't worry, though," he added, "it all tastes good -- I tried everything, just to make sure."

Delia smiled warmly at her adopted ghost-demon son. Thank you, she mouthed. "There's so much food!"

Barbara picked up her mimosa glass. "Here's to our weird and wonderful family!" she said.

*****

Once brunch was over, Adam and Charles did the dishes while Delia, Barbara and Emily finished their mimosas in the living room.

"What do you guys wanna do today?" Lydia asked.

"Would anyone be interested in a little yoga?" Delia suggested.

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" Barbara said. "I always wanted to take up yoga."

"Me, too," Emily chimed in. "I never got around to it before."

"Do you guys want to join us?" Delia asked Lydia and Beej.

"Yoga?" Lydia said doubtfully. "I don't think so ..."

"Ah, come on!" Beej cajoled. "It's fun -- you get to twist yourself into a pretzel!"

Lydia chuckled at that. "Well ... okay, I guess one time won't kill me. Let me go get changed." She headed to her room and closed the door.

"BJ and I have been doing yoga as part of his therapy," Delia explained to Emily.

"Therapy?"

"To help him, uh ... integrate better into life with people."

"Hey!" Beej said, scowling.

"Sorry -- the living," she corrected herself. "After all, demons are people, too."

Beej grinned. "We also do other things," he said. "My favourite is art therapy. Afterwards I'll show you my drawings. Uh ... if you want."

"I'd like that," Emily told him.

Beej grinned shyly, his hair turning bright green. "Babs is teaching me pottery and Adam's teaching me woodworking, Chuck takes me birdwatching, Lyds gave me her old camera ... and Dewey's teaching me music -- I can play along by tuning into somebody else's thoughts when they play, but he's teaching me how to play on my own."

"Sounds like they're keeping you very busy!" Emily said, smiling.

"Yeah, it's exhausting!" the demon replied. He blew out his cheeks in an exaggerated sigh. Then he smiled. "It's fun, though."

So Dewey's a musician?"

"Yeah, he's the best! He was gonna be a big rockstar, but ... well, he got kicked out of his band. Now he teaches music at a fancy private school in Staten Island."

"Okay," Lydia said, reappearing. She had changed into a t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants that Delia had given her when Charles had first hired her to be the girl's life coach. "I'm ready for yoga."

"You kept them," Delia said, smiling.

"I just hadn't gotten around to getting rid of them yet," Lydia replied, rolling her eyes. "But I gotta admit, they are kinda comfy."

*****

"So?" Delia asked Lydia. "What do you think of yoga now?"

Lydia gave her a sidelong glance. "Yeah, okay ... I didn't hate it."

Delia hugged her, squealing with delight. "I knew you'd love it if you just gave it a chance!"

"I didn't say I loved it."

"But you will!" Delia said, booping the girl on the nose. Lydia rolled her eyes.

The doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Delia said.

"No, let me," Lydia told her. She and Beej returned a moment later, their arms laden with flowers -- white lilies, pink carnations, yellow mums, blue irises. With a flourish they presented the blossoms to the three women.

"Oh!" Emily exclaimed. "These are beautiful!"

"I'll get something to put them in," Barbara said and headed for the kitchen. She returned with three vases, and she and the others began arranging the flowers while Beej looked on -- his experience with flowers was limited to eating them.

Thank you so much, both of you!" Delia said, hugging Lydia and Beej. Emily hugged them as well, and then Barbara.

"And thank you for including me, even though ..."

"You've been a mother to both me and Beej," Lydia told her. "Any kid would have been lucky to have you as their mom. I'm sorry you never got the chance -- you and Adam would've made awesome parents."

Barbara shrugged ruefully. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be." Then she smiled. "Maybe we didn't get the family we wanted, but we got the family we needed."

"Be right back," Beej said.

"Where are you --" Lydia began, but he'd already disappeared.

The demon returned a moment later, a sheaf of papers in his hands. "Wanna see my art?" he asked Emily, a look of pride on his face.

She nodded, and he handed the small stack of drawings to her. She looked at each in turn -- they were much better than she would've expected. "These are really good!" she said. "I can't believe you've only been drawing for a few months."

Beej grinned broadly, his hair blushing pink as he bit his lip. "Thanks," he said.

"He's a natural," Delia agreed.

"Show my mom your photos," Lydia suggested.

He disappeared again, and returned with a photo album. Then he brought the small collection of pottery pieces he'd made, followed by some examples of his woodworking.

"I never would've thought that a demon could be so creative -- and have so much talent in so many different areas," Emily said. "I guess there's more to your kind than meets the eye."

"Nah," he demurred. "I'm ... different from most demons. I got bullied a lot when I was a kid, because I'm a halfbreed."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Beej," Emily told him. "But at least now you have people who love you and care about you."

*****

For dinner, Charles had ordered from Winter River's finest restaurant -- the same one that had catered their first dinner party.

"Don't worry," he said. "No shrimp cocktails or suckling pig this time."

"Yeah, we're still sorry about that," Adam said.

"Don't be," Charles replied. "The Deans loved it. Of course, they always were a bit off. But I have to admit it was rather fun -- rather frightening, but fun."

When the delivery arrived, the three women sat at the dining room table while the others transferred the food to serving platters and brought them to the table. A wedge salad starter with Italian dressing, followed by a chateaubriand roast au jus, accompanied by sautéed baby carrots, petits pois, asparagus and mashed potatoes, and for Delia a harissa-spiced butternut squash half with maple drizzle.

"This looks amazing!" Delia gushed. "That roast looks absolutely sumptuous!" She looked around sheepishly. "Would ... would anyone mind if I ... had a taste? It's just that it's been so long since I had meat ... I'm wondering if it's still as good as I remember."

With a chuckle, Charles carved her a couple of slices and drizzled them with the jus.

Delia used her knife and fork to cut a piece and tentatively brought it to her lips. She put it in her mouth and began to chew, and then she let out a moan.

"Oh, my God, that's SOOO good! " She cut another piece. "You don't know how good this is after all those years of eating brown rice and tofu!" She looked up then, a look of embarrassment on her face. "I mean, I love vegan food -- there's so much more to it than that. But ..."

"It's all right," Charles said, smiling at his wife. "No one is judging you. It's entirely up to you whether you still want to be a vegan or not."

She smiled, still a bit embarrassed. "I -- I'll think about it."

*****

"This has been a wonderful Mother's Day," Emily said. "I'm very glad that I got to come back for it -- whoever, or whatever is responsible."

"Do you think you're back for good?" Lydia asked.

"I don't know, Pumpkin," came the reply. "I hope so." She stood up and pushed her chair in, then suddenly she reeled slightly.

The others rose from their seats, alarmed. Charles put his arm out for Emily to steady herself on.

"Mom?" Lydia said , worried. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"I ... I don't know -- I feel ... dizzy. Tired. Like before -- like the first time."

Lydia lifted her mother's hand and placed two fingers on Emily's wrist. The pulse was weak and thready. "Mom. No, not again -- please."

"I'm sorry, baby," Emily said. "I ... I guess my coming back was only temporary."

"No!" Lydia cried. "There must be something we can do, some way --"

"Something ... something is pulling me back," she said.

"No! " Beej exclaimed, his hair flashing crimson. "No! " He looked up at the ceiling, his face a mask of rage. "NO!!!" he roared. "I WON'T LET YOU TAKE HER AWAY!!! YOU LEAVE HER ALONE, YOU BASTARDS!!!"

Lydia stood up and went over to him. "Beej," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged it off roughly. "No!" he said angrily. "It's not fair! " He looked up again. "WHY LET HER COME BACK IF SHE CAN'T STAY??? HUH??? ANSWER ME, YOU COWARDS!!! WHY??? "

"BJ," Charles said quietly.

"YOU FUCKERS!!! I'LL FIND A WAY TO BRING HER BACK FOR GOOD!!! " the demon roared at the heavens. "EVEN IF I HAVE TO DESTROY EVERYTHING!!! MY BEST FRIEND IS GONNA GET HER MOM BACK -- OR ELSE!!! "

"Beej, no," Lydia told him firmly. "Don't."

He looked at her, equal measures of rage and pain in his expression. ''But ... RRRAAAAHHHH! " he snarled in helpless fury. He took a deep breath, and then another, and another. "I'm calm, I'm calm," he said, as much to convince himself as anyone else. "Okay ... yeah, I'm good." He smiled awkwardly at Lydia, and then he looked up again. Biting his lip, he angrily raised both middle fingers and waved them around at the ceiling.

He blew out his cheeks in a loud sigh.

"It's all right, Beej," Emily said. "I got to come back and spend a bit more time with my family -- that's more than anyone else gets."

"Yeah,'' the demon replied. "But now everyone has to go through the grief and pain of losing you a second time." He went over to Emily and sat on the bed beside her. "I promise," he said, taking both of her hands in his, "if there is a way to bring you back for good, I'll find it.

"After I killed my ... my real mom, when I came back here ... they let me. They made me a part of their family, and Dee became my mom. And then you came back, and you're like a mom to me, too. You're my family, Ems -- just like Chuck and Dee and Lyds and Babs and Se-- I mean Adam. And you didn't get to meet my brother Dewey! You gotta meet him -- and his girlfriend Rosalie! And ... and my friend Alex -- she lives in Rhode Island! And Pac, too -- he's Dewey's friend! And ... and lots of other people, too!" He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. "I know we've only known each other for a few days, but I ... I love you."

"I love you, too, Beej," Emily told him.

"So I'm gonna find a way," he said.

She smiled at him. "I have no doubt that you will," she replied. "Lydia? Come here, Pumpkin."

Lydia sat down beside her mother. Emily hugged her tightly. "I love you, and I'm so proud of you. You'll always be my baby." She looked up at Charles and Delia. "I'm so happy that you two have found each other. I'll always love you, Charles, and I'll always be grateful to you, Delia.

"Adam? Barbara? The two of you are wonderful people -- it's a real tragedy that you passed on before you could have children. But I'm glad that you're here for my daughter.

"And Beej," she said. "You are ... one of a kind." She laughed softly. "Who would've thought that a demon could be such a good friend? You know, I think that you might just be the best thing that could've happened to this family -- if you hadn't come along, Lydia ... well, you know. You saved her life that night on the roof. And you've saved everyone's life a couple of times since."

Beej looked down at the floor, grinning sheepishly. "I guess," he said, scuffing the floor with his shoe.

"And for that, I owe you my eternal gratitude." She sighed heavily. "I-I think it's time for me to go now. Take care of each other ..."

"Mom?"

"Goodbye, Lydia -- always remember that I love you."

And with that, Emily closed her eyes and breathed her last.

"Nooooooo! " Lydia wailed. "Mom, pleeease! Don't go!"

She grabbed Beej and hugged him fiercely, burying her face in his chest, and he held her tightly as she sobbed, his own face contorted with agony.

Charles and Delia held one another, weeping softly, and the Maitlands cried in each other's arms.

"I meant what I said," Beej told Lydia. "I'll find a way to bring your mom back. Nothing will stop me," he added softly, his eyes glowing with demonic fire.

[best-fictional-band-poll]

THIS IS THE OLD SUBMISSIONS POST. UP TO DATE SUBMISSIONS CAN BE FOUND HERE

Sorted alphabetically by band. Please click through to original post to see full list. IF IT'S NOT ON THE LIST, PLEASE SUBMIT IT. NO BAND IS TOO NICHE. Multiple bands from the same media are permitted.

Putting this under the cut because it's getting too long!

0-9

4*town - Turning Red

A

About Gardens - ROGUEMAKER

The Ark - I Was Born For This

ABXY - Splatoon

Arno van Eyck - Disco Elysium

B

The Band With Rocks In It - Discworld

The Beets - Doug

The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton - The Mountain Goats

The Bettys - Phineas and Ferb

Black Stones (BLAST) - NANA

The Blues Brothers - The Blues Brothers

Bottom Feeders - Splatoon

Boys In The Sink - Veggietales

Boys Who Cry - Spongebob Squarepants

Boyz4Now - Bob's Burgers

Boyz 12 - American Dad

Bunk Bed Junction - No Straight Roads

C

Cheetah Girls - Cheetah Girls

The Clash At Demonhead - Scott Pilgrim 

The Covey - Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Crash & The Boys - Scott Pilgrim

D

Daisy Jones & The Six - Daisy Jones & The Six

Damp Socks - Splatoon

De Bois Band - & Juliet

Deep cut - Splatoon

DETHKLOK - Metalocalypse

Dedf1sh - Splatoon

Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros - Space Opera 

Dingoes Ate My Baby - Buffy The Vampire Slayer

DJ Octavio - Splatoon

DJ Stylbator - Samurai Jack

Dr Teeth and The Electric Mayhem - The Muppets 

Drive Shaft - LOST

E

Evar Orbus & The Galactic Jizz-Wailers/The Max Rebo Band - Star Wars

F

Fig and the Cig Figs - Dimension 20 Fantasy High

The Flaming Creatures - Velvet Goldmine

Fran-Shou-Shou - Zombie Land Saga

G

Gallifrey Academy Hot Five - Doctor Who 

Gem & The Scotts - Secret Life SMP

Gillion & The Tidestriders - Just Roll With It

Girls Dead Monster - Angel Beats

Gorillaz - Gorillaz

Grifters Bone - Magnus Archives 

H

Hatsune Miku - Vocaloid

Heaven Seventeen - A Clockwork Orange

The Hectic Glow - The Fault In Our Stars

Hex Girls - Scooby Doo

I

Ink Theory - Splatoon

J

Jem & The Holograms - Jem & The Holograms

Johnny Casino and The Gamblers - Grease

Josie & The Pussycats - Archie (Comic)

The Juicy Fruits - Phantom of the Paradise

Julie and the Phantoms - Julie and the Phantoms

K

Kessoku Band - Bocchi the Rock

Killer Boy Rats - Horrid Henry

The Killjoys - My Chemical Romance

L

Lacus Clyne - Mobile Suit Gundam Seed

Lady Parts - We Are Lady Parts

The Last Days - The Last Days

Lemonade Mouth - Lemonade Mouth

Leningrad Cowboys - Leningrad Cowboys

Lincoln Hawk - Gossip Girl

Little White Lie - Little White Lie

Loded Diper - Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Love Burger - Can't Hardly Wait

Love Händel - Phineas and Ferb

LumberZacks - Milo Murphy's Law 

M

Mad Gear & The Missile Kid - Danger Days, My Chemical Romance

Maxwell Demon & The Venus In Furs - Velvet Goldmine

The Mechanisms - The Mechanisms 

Milkcan - Um Jammer Lammy

The Misfits - Jem & The Holograms

Muppet Orchestra - The Muppets 

N 

Needy Beast - Hatchetfield

O

Octoplush - Splatoon

Old Gods of Asgard - Alan Wake

ok, kids - Andre and Karl

Off The Hook - Splatoon

P

Pink Slip - Freaky Friday

Plasmagica - Show By Rock

Proto Zoa - Zenon Sweep 

R

The Rainbooms - Equestria Girls

The Rats - Velvet Goldmine

RIP - Ruby Gloom

The Risky Fix-Ins - Buzzfeed Unsolved Franchise

The Rutles - All You Need Is Cash

S

Sadie-Killer & The Suspects - Steven Universe

Sadgasm - The Simpsons

SCÄB - Home Movies

Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band - The Beatles

Sev'ral Timez - Gravity Falls

Sex Bob-omb - Scott Pilgrim vs The World

Sing Street - Sing Street 

Soundcheck - Odd Squad

Spinal Tap - This Is Spinal Tap

Squid Sisters - Splatoon

Squid Squad - Splatoon

The Stiff Dylans - Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging 

Sunset Curve - Julie and the Phantoms

The Superconducting Supercolliders - Designations Congruent With Things (Pacific Rim fanfiction)

T

The Three Lights - Sailor Moon

Trapnest - NANA

Turquoise October - Splatoon

V

The Vampire Lestat - The Vampire Chronicles

W

Wonderlands x Showtime - Hatsune Miku Colourful Stage/Vocaloid

The Wonders - That Thing You Do

Wyld Stallyns - Bill & Ted franchise

Wet Floor - Splatoon

w-3 (omega-3) - Splatoon

Y

Yoko & the Gold Bazookas - Splatoon

Z

Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars - David Bowie

[duhragonball]

Phantom Blood Liveblog JJBA ch.42-44

Well, that’s enough phantom blood for one week.  Let’s wrap this up.

Several weeks after the battle with Dio, everyone returns home, and Jonathan marries Erina Pendleton.  I’m not sure where Jonathan’s been living since his home was destroyed, but that might be why he and Erina planned a honeymoon in the United States. I’m not sure they planned to stay in the U.S., but Jonathan doesn’t have much tying him down to Britain now that his entire family is dead. 

Speedwagon is so excited to see them off that he forgets to pay for his lunch.  Still wearing Zeppeli’s hat, Speedwagon vows to always be there for the Joestars.  “I’ll come no matter where it is, though I might just get in the way.” 

Sniff... You were never in the way, Speedwagon ol’ pal. 

Right before the steam liner launches for the voyage, some guys load one last piece of cargo on board.  They have no idea what it is, but they were paid handsomely to put it on the ship.  Sure are a lot of WRRYYYYYs coming out of that box though.

Once they’re underway, Erina sees a bird get separated from its flock, then another bird joins it on the deck, and she gets all choked up over it.  She recalls how Jonathan knew he’d get beat up when he stood up for Erina as a child, and how he’d get beaten up even more by revealing who he was, but he dropped that hankerchief anyway.  And Jonathan reminds her that she was there for him at his lowest points, like when Dio turned all his friends against him, and then later when Dio killed his dad and the house burned down. Erina wishes this time could last forever.  Don’t we all?

They go below for dinner, when Jonathan notices... Wang Chung?!  He immediately realizes that this must mean Dio survived their battle, and he rushes off to chase Wang Chung.  He warns Erina to return to their cabin and lock the door. 

Meanwhile, a drunken priest accidentally loses his cross in the... cargo hold?  Engine room?  Anyway, he retrieves it and then notices the padlock on the box is undone, but apparently the box is locked from the inside.

Also there’s a gem on there which suddenly shoots out and blows this guy’s head apart.  Not sure if that’s a booby trap rigged into the case or Dio launched that with vampire power. Either way...

Wang Chung arrives in the hold soon after the priest is killed, and Jonathan shows up a few steps behind, just in time to see... Dio......’s head.  The rest of him couldn’t be here.

Why is Dio’s head in a glas case?  He looks ridiculous in that thing.  I assume he asked for this, but why?

Then Erina shows up, just in time to see Dio shoot eyebeams at Jonathan.  His intent was to decapitate Jonathan in one shot, a painless death as a sign of respect.  Dio has decided that he must admire Jonathan as a worthy adversary, and he now sees that their fates are hopelessly intertwined.  The only way Dio can fulfill his ambitions is through Jonathan, so he plans to graft his head onto Jonathan’s corpse and use it as his new body. 

But Jonathan’s too defiant to just stand still and let himself be killed, so he tries to dodge the beams.  Instead of dying, he just gets badly hurt, and now he can’t breathe well enough to use Hamon power to defend himself.

Then a bunch of zombies appear, killing a man and then his wife, who dies trying to protect a baby.  Wang Chung explains that he’s been converting crew and passengers into zombies, so it’s only a matter of time before Dio takes the entire ship.  This is all a terrible shock to Erina, who I’m pretty sure hasn’t heard about any of this vampire business at all. 

Without the Ripple, Jonathan’s no match for Wang Chung, let alone all the other zombies.  Wang Chung wants to make Jonathan suffer, but Dio scolds him for being disrespectful to his honored rival.  Instead, Dio orders him to kill Jonathan quickly and painlessly.  But Wang Chung doesn’t listen.  He’s still made at Jonathan for giving him a nasty scar after their last encounter, and that craving for revenge gives Jonathan enough time to devise one last counterattack.

Jonathan can’t breathe well enough to use Hamon well, but he can still deploy the Hamon already present from his own life force, and use it to decapitate Wang Chung and manipulate his body.  He sends Wang Chung to the engine, where he grabs hold of the screwshaft. 

As Dio helpfully explains, the screwshaft is responsible for releasing the pressure built up in the engine.  With the mechanism jammed, the pressure will keep building up until the engine explodes, which will destroy the ship. 

Erina doesn’t fully understand, but Jonathan tells her that he wants her to get off the ship before is explodes, and she resolves to die with him.  But Jonathan points out the baby, whose mother was killed earlier.  He wants her to take the child and escape.  The baby’s mother died protecting her, just as Jonathan’s mother did for him. So it’s fitting that Jonathan would make this is dying request.  Wotta guy.  What a selfless, beefy, polite guy.

But Dio isn’t finished yet.  He orders his zombies to get Wang Chung off the screwshaft while he tries to attach himself to Jonathan’s body.  Now that he can’t use the Ripple anymore, it should be easy enough, except Jonathan stabs his neck with a chunk of metal.  I’m... not sure why that matters.  It’s not like Dio’s neck is a vital area.  He’s missing all the stuff below it and he’s doing pretty well for himself.  But somehow, Jonathan manages to subdue Dio’s head and basically holds him so he won’t do anymore mischief.  He admits to Dio that their fates might be intertwined after all, and so he’s willing to end it here, with both of them being destroyed.

As for the zombies, they’re too late.  The engine is already starting to blow up. Erina takes the baby and leaves Jonathan and Dio to their fate.   Dio pleads with Jonathan to let him go, even making wild promises you know he would never keep, but it’s too late for any of that.

Jonathan’s already dead, and there’s nothing Dio can do but wait for the ship to sink. 

The next time we see Erina, she’s with the baby, floating on top of Dio’s box.  I always assumed she hid inside of it to protect her and the baby from the explosion, but I guess she could have gotten clear of the ship, then found it in the water.  As she reflects on this ordeal, she notes that she has a “new life inside her body”, which will turn out to be Jonathan’s son, George Joestar II. 

Two days later, Erina would be rescued in the Canary Islands, and the narration promises that this would be the beginning of a whole new era of adventure.  Boy, you’re not kidding. 

And that’s it for Part 1.  Like I was saying towards the beginning, people dismiss this one as too “boring” or whatever else, and that’s dumb.  At worst, Part 1 can be criticized for being too short, and kind of primitive compared to the more complex plots in the sequels.  But that’s like complaining about Action Comics #1 being the worst Superman story.  This literally sets the stage for everything that follows.  

Erina and the baby she rescued show up in Part 2. Dio’s desperate scheme to transplant his head onto Jonathan’s body gets paid off in Part 3.   The legacies of Jonathan and Dio reverberate well into Parts 4, 5, and 6.  Part 7 features an alternate version of Jonathan Joestar who became a jockey instead of an archaeologist. 

Here, let me show you my favorite sequence from Part 8.

Josuke Higashikata feels completely alone and devoid of purpose through much of JoJolion.  “Josuke Higashikata” isn’t even his real name; it’s given to him by the people he meets when he first emerges from the soil.  He has no connections to anyone or anything, and as he despairs over this, he suddenly comes across a memorial statue of Part 7′s Johnny Joestar, who died in Morioh 110 years earlier.  It’s a powerful moment, because even though Josuke feels isolated and alone, he still has a connection to the other JoJo’s, even though he doesn’t know it.

It’s like poetry.  It rhymes.

There’s this devotion to justice that connects all of the JoJo’s together, so that no matter how alone or defeated they may feel, they each find it within themselves to oppose evil, no matter the odds.  The villains in every Part follow in Dio’s path, each of them trying to deny fate and the justice that fate inevitably brings.  Dio’s immortality, Kars’ invincible body, Killer Queen, King Crimson, Made in Heaven, Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, Wonder of U, each of these represents an attempt to short circuit the consequences of evil.  “Well, I’m being a huge asshole, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m too powerful to be stopped!” That’s the motto of all the bad guys.  And the JoJo’s each show up to bring them to justice. 

And it all starts here, in Phantom Blood.  I dare you to read this thing and not find a few call-forwards to your favorite JoJo Part. I mean, my favorite is Part 2, so it’s not very hard for me.  Speedwagon’s right there. But I forgot all about Jonathan setting himself on fire to hit Dio, like Jolyne in Part 6.  And Jonathan dropping that anvil on Doobie kind of reminded me of Giorno’s dismissive attitude toward Ciocolata in Part 5. And so on.  

Sure, Josuke might have cooler hair and Jotaro might be more badass, and Jolyne might be prettier, but the themes that make their stories work all stem from here.  Part-skippers, you at owe it to yourself to at least check this out at some point. 

Anyway, that’s all I have.  So I’ll leave you with this picture of Speedwagon withdrawing cooly.

[whattraintracks]

4. Sunset - TMNT II (1991)

Born from the realisation that Raphael was a prisoner of the Foot for at least half a day��before his family showed up to rescue him. 

He is definitely being punished. Some insane higher power is looking down at him right now and having one big laugh.

This is what he gets for being such a brat his whole life. For disobeying Master Splinter so often. For forgetting who he is long enough to run around topside in the middle of the day. Unlike himself, Raph's brothers are good little ninja who follow Master Splinter's rules. They won't show up until night falls.

What's that saying? Play stupid games, win stupid prizes? Well, Raph's just won a day as the Foot Clan's class pet.

It's alright. He can make it to sunset.

They tie him to a pole right out in the open. And because he can't possibly be miserable enough in the direct sunlight, Foot Face lines up the baby Foots to use him as a training dummy. Guess he didn't take that personality comment too well.

Making fun of their terrible forms and weak hits is a hollow comfort. Under normal circumstances, humans are too squishy to do him any real damage barehanded. At least, when he's not immobilised with all of the soft, unprotected parts of his own body on display.

To his vicious satisfaction, one unlucky sucker gets close enough for him to chomp. It takes five guys and fifteen minutes for them to pry his beak open. Totally worth the sore jaw and blood in his mouth when he snarls at the next dweeb in line, and they flinch.

They gag him after that.

Just wait it out until sunset.

Oh, and that ghost he'd told Keno he thought he saw? Not a ghost. Just good old Shred-head back from the dead.

Thinking about that is its own special kind of torture. At least he doesn't have to look at Zombie Shredder, facing away from whatever shack they're running this dump out of. Except maybe that's worse.

He jumps the first time he hears that same rattle of metal from his nightmares. Gets a good laugh from the crowd watching his debut as a punching bag. From then on, every shout and clatter of metal behind him makes him squirm, and the recruits have a fun new game.

Just until sunset.

Eventually, he guesses, the novelty of beating him up when he can't fight back wears off. He's left alone save for every once in a while when someone at the edge of the clearing uses him as target practice. But, man, these guys even have terrible aim! One or two blunt shuriken bounce off his plastron, and the rest thunk sadly to the ground. Makes him feel like even more of a moron for getting caught by these guys.

So where does that leave him? Hot, sore all over, and too tired to make fun of ninjidiots. Blinking hard against the grit and sudden wetness in his eyes, he doesn't think about how much he wants his dad right now.

Keep it together, Raphael. He'll be here at sunset.

At least, he hopes he'll be here.

And he remembers his dad doesn't even know where he is. No one does except Keno. Because Raph stormed off without telling the guys where he was going. Again. Man, why's he gotta be such a hothead all the time?

It'll be fine. Keno seems like a pretty tough guy. If he's got half as much guts as he acts like he's got, he'll find them, and they'll be here.

Daylight wanes, and Raph is mercifully draped in familiar shadows. Just until sunset. Sunset. Sunset. Sunset. Hold it together until the sun sets.

He can do that.

[dangermousie]

I am like 20 eps behind on Yabani but I wonder if they ever address how the situation fucked up all the kids and that the mom needs to realize they need proper therapy not forced family bonding sessions - I mean, it's not her fault she lost it permanently when one of her four kids got kidnapped but like - the baby of the fam doesn't really have issues because she doesn't remember the before and she got taken care of by the others but I am at the point where Alaz is all "yeah, I know he's my brother, no I don't care, once he disappeared you became a zombie and I had to check the baby didn't die every night and my twin sister didn't freak out during thunder during rain and sometimes at the same time and used to pass out from lack of sleep during the day" and I don't even need to get into Ali's issues from growing up abandoned and abused on the streets for close to two decades and then being found only to be mistreated by his fam (and Cagla clearly has issues too seeing her string of terrible life choices and boyfriend) and like in general - mom just threw money and not attention or love at her remaining kids, the missing kid grew up quasi-homeless, and the dad is a bona fide villain so like...they are not all gonna hug it out. Forget home movies, go straight to THERAPY!!!!!

Of course the twins aren't gonna get along with Ali or Ali with them, and that house is gonna be a mess. Three of the four kids in that family are psychos. THERAPPPPPPYYYYYYYYYY

ETA ahahahahah Ali and Alaz have agreed on something for the first time in their adult lives and it's beating the shit out of Cagla's abusive boyfriend ahahahahahahahahaha. One almost feels bad for the scumbag, who almost got murdered by Ali, managed to drive away thanks to Ruya yanking Ali off, only to be chased down by Alaz who took a baseball bat to his head. Man is gonna end up dead.

ETA2: haha Alaz did kill him. It’s ep 7 😂 in a drama that means no happy ending for him but in Turkish show it means nothing. They gave brother murdering narco baron Vartolu in Cukur and professional hitman Ferit in SBA happy endings (I was all for it in both cases.)

ETA3: still alive omg he’s like a cockroach