#JUST... THE SURPRISE KNOWLEDGE OF IT .... IS ENOUGH TO THROW ME OFF... THAT WASN'T IN THE CARDS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️FUCK‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[moe-broey]

A VERY HAPPY FANON ASSIGNED BDAY TO MY BELOVEDS.... Alfonse Fire Emblem and Sharena my friend Sharena (that's just my hc talking I like imagining they were born on the same day a few years apart). The Bad News is I've got nothing. I've been very occupied. The Good News is that I think about them every single day of my life and I make that everyone else's problem. The autism just keeps on giving. The collateral is devastating. Everyone is caught in the crossfire. You're welcome. And here's to many more years of bullshit from Me ✨🙂‍���️✨

[im-ovulating]

can i request a yandere izuku x fem reader where he sees her talking to another guy so later in bed he gets realllly possessive

(A/n: Kinktober Day 12/15! 3 more daysssss!!!!! I haven't really dabbled in writing yandere content, so forgive me if it's not the best. Also, it wasn't specified if you wanted a soft or traditional yandere, so I went traditional, hence the warnings. If it is too much for you, Anon, I apologize. Just let me know and I will rewrite it as soft yandere.)

This fic got really dark, really fast. If you are uncomfortable reading about nonconsensual acts and rape (as is commonplace within the yandere scene), this is your first warning. If you read the official warnings below, continue to the story and then get triggered, that is on you, not on me. There is ample warning and a cut-off that you have to click on in order to access the story to keep accidental triggers from happening. Know your limits and curate your own internet experience. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Word Count: 2,956

Summary- Why are you talking to him? Is Izuku not enough? He'll show you he's enough... more than enough.

Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Stalking, Izuku Tries to Baby Trap Reader, Possessiveness but Not in A Cute Way, Non-Con and, Once Again- Read At Your Own Risk!!

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Izuku Midoriya x Fem! Reader: His

------------------------

Izuku sits in the same café chair as usual. His eyes flicker up from his laptop screen, his gaze scanning the coffee shop until it lands on you behind the counter. You – the reason he keeps throwing dollar after dollar away on overpriced coffee and pastries day after day. He’s become a regular fairly quickly.

As he continues to type asway on his laptop, he can’t help but let his stare linger a bit longer than casual. It’s not causal, though, is it? He’s completely added a new stop in his morning routine simply to stalk a girl. He may front that his laptop is for work, but really, he’s using it to take notes on everything his darling does.

He would use his tried-and-true notebook, but he’s learned that it’s way too easy for someone to snatch and read off of and he doesn’t need anyone finding out about this… transgression.

He smiles to himself as you laugh with one of your coworkers – a short, older woman with the beginnings of greying in her otherwise midnight colored hair, aka, she’s not a threat. He’s too far away to hear your conversation, but seeing the way you tilt your head back with that gorgeous smile and laugh is enough. For now.

You notice the green haired man again - Izuku. It’s no surprise, he comes here every morning for an hour or two, He’s always working on his laptop; your guess is either college student or remote worker.

He’s cute. The freckles that dot his face soften his otherwise imposing frame – you swear he must be well over six feet of pure muscle. He’s always been kind, though, if not a little odd. He tends to stumble over his words and rant a bit whenever you talk to him, but you think it’s sweet, like a schoolyard crush.

Today, he’s stayed a bit longer, his coffee long gone as he keeps typing away. To you’re knowledge he hasn’t ordered anything to eat in the few hours that he’s been here, so you decide to take the opportunity to have an excuse talk to him.

You make your way over to the display case and slip some gloves on. Reaching in, you grab a cinnamon roll and place it on a small plate before rounding the counter and making your way over to his table in the corner.

“On the house,” you smile softly, setting the plate next to his laptop.

When his head snaps up to look at you, his face starts to turn a light red. Now he really looks like a strawberry.

“You’ve been here for a while without eating anything and I’m not having you pass out from low blood sugar while I’m on the clock,” you joke lightly, seeing the slight confusion on his face.

He lightly shakes his head, as if to snap himself out of something, before he returns your smile. “O-oh, thank you! But you didn’t have to-”

"It’s no problem,” you assure him. “If you need anything else, just let me know," you say with a wave of your hand before returning to the counter.

Izuku watches as you get swept back up into your work. The older woman you were laughing with earlier lightly swatting your arm with a grin as she glances over at you. Based on the way turn your face down with a shy grin, he can only assume she asked about him. With amusement written clearly on his face, Izuku takes a bite of the still-warm pastry; it practically melts in his mouth, and he thinks that, just maybe, the café’s pricing isn’t as overpriced as he thinks.

No – 8 bucks for a coffee is insane.

The next morning is more of the same: Go to the café, watch you, document down anything new about you, eventually have to leave and go to work.

Except it’s not the same. It’s not the same at all. There’s a man leaning against the counter talking to you when Izuku walks in. He freezes in place, needing a second to process that he is, in fact, seeing this. That this man, who’s not even worthy enough to exist in the same room as you, thinks that he can flirt with you. And that his darling is entertaining it.

He nearly snaps right then and there when he sees the man reach out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hands curl into fists at his side, the skin pulling taut and pale over his knuckles. How dare this man lay his hands on what is rightfully his? He can feel the possessiveness swelling inside of his, rearing its ugly head back and urging him to march over there and rip the stranger’s hand off of you.

But he doesn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he simply turns back around and exits the café, already coming up with a plan to get rid of this... nuisance.

Entering your bedroom that night, you don’t notice the figure sitting on your bed, shrouded in the darkness of the room. You don’t bother turning the light on yet; you’ve had a long day, and the light would only serve to worsen your headache. You snag some clothes from your closet and head into the bathroom, wanting to wash the day away.

As you shower, you can’t help but feel like something is off, but you ignore it. Surely, it’s just your mind taking advantage of the stress and making you paranoid.

Stepping back into your room as you brush your hair, you finally turn the light on.

You let out a startled yelp as you see him. Sat on your bed, with a dried red substance that can only be one thing on his hands, is Izuku. His forearms are on his knees as he lifts his head to meet your gaze; there’s more of the smeared color on his cheek.

No amount of freckles can soften the look on his face as he glares at you with sharp, green eyes. “I saw you with that man today…”

“You know,” he says, standing from the bed with a slow, predatory grace. “I thought we had something, darling. I thought you understood that you are mine and mine alone.”

He starts to walk towards you. Every step forward, you meet with a step back, repeating this until you realize with horror that your back has hit the wall.

“I-Izuku…” You stammer out, pressing yourself further into the drywall as if you can disappear into it if you will it hard enough. “What are- what are you doing in my house?”

It’s a stupid question, really. He’s spelled it out for you already, so you can guess, but some twisted part in your mind wants to hear him say it, to confirm the worst-case scenarios swirling around your thoughts.

Your eyes flick down to the blood on his hands. You have a feeling you know who it came from. “What did you do to him?” You ask, horrified.

“You know what I did. At least, you know the very least of what I did." Izuku answers. "He touched what’s mine, so I had to… teach... him that it’s rude to touch what’s not his.” Izuku reaches up to cup your cheek, ignoring your harsh flinch as he steps even closer, so your chests nearly touch. “I made sure that he would never bother us again, my darling.”

“You’re insane…” your voice wavers barely above a whisper as your eyes well with tears.

Izuku’s expression darkens as he hears the fear and desperation in your voice. He free hand grabs your arm, holding you tightly in place as his eyes narrow dangerously.

“Insane?” he seethes, his face mere inches from yours. “I’m not the insane one here, Y/n. You are, for thinking you could just replace me with some worthless stranger.”

He leans in closer, the intensity in his gaze almost overwhelming. “I’ve given you everything, Y/n. My heart, my soul, my entire being. And this is how you repay me?”

The hand on your cheek caresses you with a twisted tenderness. “I did this for you. To protect you. To show you that no one else can have you; that no one else deserves you,” his voice calms to a plead. “I’ve watched you, studied you, spent ungodly amounts of money on that damn shop’s subpar coffee… and it was all to ensure that I could mold myself into the perfect man for you…”

You’re stomach drops as you process what he just said.

All of these months, you thought he was just a really dedicated regular. Now you know… He was stalking you…

You’re thoughts travel back to how much he writes on that laptop of his and your legs nearly give. He’s been taking notes on you, studying you like a fucking lab rat, seeing what makes you tick so he could manipulate you into falling for him. Oh god… you think you’re gonna be sick.

“You’re insane…” You repeat, your voice is barely audible over your own thundering pulse. “We were never together! You’re a stalker- a- a murderer…” Your head feels funny and the room is starting to spin.

“How dare you!” Izuku snarls, his voice low and menacing. “You know nothing about what I do! It’s all for you. For us, you stupid girl!” He yanks you closer, wrapping his arm around you so you can’t get away. “I’m your protector. Your savior. And you’re going to learn to love me the way I love you – even if I have to break you.”

He tangles on hand in your hair, tugging the still-damp strands to force you to tilt your head back. He leans down, capturing your lips in a forceful kiss.

The tears are free flowing down your face now; sobs rip from your chest as you desperately try to get away. He tightens his grip on you, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Now, now, my love, there’s no need for all that,” he murmurs into the kiss. “You know you want this just as much as I do.”

You manage to get an arm free and land a harsh slap to his cheek, hoping the shock will be enough for you to get away.

Izuku’s face contorts in a mixture of shock and rage, but he doesn’t let go of you like you were hoping. Instead, he tightens his hold even more, making it hard to breathe. He starts pulling you to bed, making you really panic.

“No! No- please! Please don’t do this, Izuku, please!” You beg, digging your heels into the floor to no avail.

“You’re going to pay for that, Y/n.” he growls, his voice dripping with menace. “You’re going to learn to respect me, to obey me.”

He tosses you onto the bed, following you down as if it’s his rightful place on top of you. His hands are everywhere, tearing at your clothes, pulling them off to expose your skin. “You’re mine. And I’m going to prove it to you, whether you like it or not.”

He all but rips his belt off and grabs your wrists, binding them to the headboard with the leather. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to cum for me. You’re going to scream my name and you’re going to do it with a smile on your face.” He’s pinning you down, his weight crushing you and his erection pressing against your thigh.

Your fighting continues to remain fruitless. You try to kick him but he easily gathers your legs on one arm, shoving your knees towards your chest as his other hand works on undoing his jeans.

You can’t breathe. Your chest is heaving, desperately trying to drag air into your burning lungs but you can’t. The room is spinning even harder, and you can see black spots starting to dance in your vision. You’re still trying to plead with him, but you can’t hear yourself anymore. There’s just a loud, piercing ringing in your ears.

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He hisses, freeing his cock and lining it up with your entrance. “You wanted to make me jealous so I’d finally snap and take you, didn’t you?”

You barely feel it as you frantically shake your head. “N-no…” you whimper.

With a rough, forceful thrust he fills you. You think you scream out, but you don’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. Your throat feels raw, though, so some sound must’ve come out.

He groans as he hilts, his head dropping to your shoulder as he shifts your legs to wrap around him. He takes a deep breath, and something seems to flip in him. His grip on you loosens just a tad.

“Breathe, darling…” He murmurs. “I need you to breathe…”

You don’t know what caused the switch up, but you know he’s right – you need to breathe. As much as you are terrified for what’s to come, you don’t want to be passed out during it. You want to know every little thing he does to you, so you have that much more to fuel the fires of hatred that are starting to simmer in your chest.

“Breathe with me,” Izuku says, mimicking deep breaths. “two counts in, one out.”

You follow his instructions until you can breathe properly on your own.

“I don’t want to hurt you, love… I just want you to love me the way I love you.” He whispers against your collarbone. “Just give in and I’ll make you feel so good…”

“Fuck you…” you whisper. Now that the ringing has stopped, you can hear how hoarse your voice is from the screaming.

Izuku lets out a long sigh, as if you’re a dog that’s chewed up his shoes one too many times. “We’ll work on that.” He decides.

When he moves, it’s painful. The drag of his cock in your dry cunt creating all the wrong friction. You cry out in discomfort, your legs kicking against the best in a last-ditch effort to get away.

You can feel every slow thrust with excruciating detail.

What’s more horrifying is when you start to feel that friction starts to ease. Each thrust becomes easier and easier as your body betrays you.

The grin that stretches across his face presses into your neck as he peppers it with kisses. “That’s it, give in. I’ll make you feel so, so good darling.”

You shake your head, unable to verbalize anything, too choked with the shame of feeling his cock sliding through your involuntary arousal.

“You just needed to be put in your place, showed who was in charge…” Izuku continues to coo. He lifts up, propping himself up on his forearm as he reaches up to wipe your tears away. “It’s okay to let go. To submit to me…”

He presses a kiss to your lips, this time gentler but still unreciprocated. When he pulls away, he reaches down to rub your clit. The pressure makes your hips kick up into his hand and subsequently into his thrusting. It makes him slam right into your g spot. You cry out in surprise, the pleasured noise echoing through the room to remind you of your downfall.

“Oh, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” Izuku grins again.

"Please... stop..." You sob. He simply pulls you closer by the hips so he can repeatedly guide his cock there again and again. Your wrists pull at the belt, the headboard creaking with the effort, but you’re trapped. Trapped to endure the torture of being violated and of having your body betray you in such a primal manner.

“You’re close, aren’t you, baby?” He pants, thrusting slowly and deep. “You don’t need to answer, I can feel you tightening around me, I know you’re close. I’ve watched you enough to know the signs,” he laughs a little.

“Baby…” he slows into a slow rhythm as he says the word contemplatively. “I like the sound of that…”

He starts up again with renewed vigor. “I think I’m going to fuck a baby into you. Can’t leave me if you’re carrying my child.”

You can’t be bothered to point out how wrong that statement is because you’re too busy spiraling. “No! Nononono- please don’t!” You beg, you’re fight renewing at the thought of being impregnated by your rapist. “Please! Izuku, you can’t do this! You can’t!” you cry out.

“Oh, but I can.” He grunts. “I can, and I will. You’re mine-”

His thumb is still circling your clit and he’s still hammering into you at just the right angle. You can feel your release coming and you’ve never hated the thought of cumming more.

“Please don’t do this-” You try again. “I-I’ll… I’ll do anything! I’ll stop fighting, just please- Please don’t cum inside!”

“Oh, babygirl…” He murmurs, tracing your bottom lip with his finger. “This isn’t a punishment… I would never knock you up as punishment. No… this is an act of love. It’s the start of our family!” His smile is psychotic. As if her truly believes that this is love. That this is anything but assault.

Before you can plead with him more, you are push over the edge, crying out shamefully as you body spasms with tremors. Cutting through the haze of your forced orgasm is the sudden, hot feel of something filling you as Izuku groans out, tipping his head back with gritted teeth as he slams his hips into yours.

It's too late…

When Izuku collapse on top of you, he smiles against your heated skin. His expression a stark contrast to your horrified one. “You’re going to make such a pretty mommy…”

[eclipseberrycake]

The World Behind the Frames

AN: This isn't Moonberrycake, I know, I know, I accidentally tripped and added lore to my polycule. I wanted to expand on my world building because I want to kind of explain what's going on in my head when I'm writing about that world, if it makes sense? I don't know. I'm out of ideas for Moonberrycake for now and needed to fulfill an itch.

This is still Distractor Toon! Reader, who is based off my OC in all actuality, and probably who I'll pair with Moonberrycake to keep continuity. Makes thing easier for me, for you and for all our new friends!

The first memory you have is less of a visible thing. There was no stark imagery you could describe or backgrounds. You weren't even confident where it occurred to be honest.

But you could remember the feelings that surrounded you. The feeling of a bone chilling coolness freezing your newly developed joints and flesh, wrapping around you and squeezing until is was quieted by a warm covering. It gently scrubbed at your furry arms and legs, drying your damp fluff as you withered about. The smell of what you would later recognize as Ichor wafted around the area as the rushing hum of machines deafened you. The only thing you could recall being spoken were murmurs from a feminine voice, just loud enough to break through the churning of gears.

"-not a main...No handler-...Throw them with the commons-"

It was never something you lingered on. And you wouldn't. Not until much, much later in your strangely short, yet long life.

Walking along the hallways, you kept a steady pace before the foyer to Gardenview came into view. It was bustling with workers and the other toons, all in preparation for opening. You, yourself, were tasked with fetching a few bits and bobs for the handlers, eyes scanning for said individuals. They were probably with the Mains, preparing them for the day to come. There were a few events occurring live today, which were what the objects were for and why you were sent. You were quick and fast and could get there and back before opening.

Spotting Sam, you ran up to them, slowing when you heard them talking with...Sprout, you think his name was. You rarely interacted with the Mains, much less Sprout, so you didn't know much about him. You preferred it that way, that's for certain. The Mains seemed conceited at times, especially Vee who made her disdain for your lack of extensive knowledge on her gameshow known, so you kept your distance; you were much better friends with Goob and Scraps in the crafting area anyway.

Watching slowly, you watched Sprout talk with his handler, who looked irritated as they went on about some form of safety concern. He noticed you first, blinking in surprise at your appearance.

Sam was going on and on about something or another regarding the baking segment he was set to host with Cosmo later that day when he spotted you. You were a skittish little thing, if he remembered correctly. You never stuck around long, doing what was tasked of you before continuing on your way. You were something like a mail carrier around Gardenview, always rushing to somewhere new. He was honestly surprised to see you stationary for so long and it had been maybe a minute.

You were a cute little thing. You were shorter than he was, but everyone was so that wasn't saying much. He dared a little wave, which seemed to stun you as you blinked before shaking your head, giving a much smaller wave back.

"What are you looking at-?!" Sam snapped, turning to face your direction, which made you freeze like one of those deer he'd seen in movies. "Oh, it's you, Y/N."

Sprout had to gape at the change in Sam's attitude. They seemed so relieved to see you! This was favoritism. He swears. Sam even seems happy to see you as you slowly inch forward, holding out the package of goods you were sent to retrieve. Sam thanks you with a hand ruffling your hair before asking if you have anywhere else to be. You nod, explaining that Austin needed something as well. Austin was Astro's handler if Sprout remembered correctly, who was probably busy trying to convince said Toon that he had to make an appearance for their show in the sky dome later.

"Thank you again, at least one toon isn't giving me any issues." Sam huffs, throwing a look at Sprout-who sticks his tongue out. You watch it with a grin, waving good-bye before taking off once more.

It's the holiday season at Gardenview, with decorations everywhere and even more toons than usual. Coal was lounging beneath the large tree in the center plaza, barely casting you a glance, while Bobette and Dandy stood at the entrance, eagerly awaiting opening so they could greet the children. Bobette is quick to direct you to where she last saw Austin, wishing you luck as the doors finally open and in comes a see of children and parents alike. You thank her before taking off again, narrowly missing Pebble.

It takes you some time, but you do eventually find the shy duo backstage. Astro is hiding in a blanket as Austin tries to coax him out, his voice soft and gentle. "I promise it'll be here soon. I sent the fastest toon for it-"

"Pebble drools!" Astro shouts from his cocoon of solitude, seeming absolutely distraught.

"The fastest, besides Pebble."

You realize they're talking about you. So you make your appearance known, holding out the soft purple fabric to Austin. He visibly relaxes at the sight, which makes two handlers now. Austin practically sings your praises as he takes the fabric, rushing back to where Astro is hiding. You debate leaving, but watch as one of Astro's hand darts out, grabbing the cape before retreating. There's a bit of shuffling before the first blanket is being discarded and Astro is slowly standing, casting a shy glance your way before quickly looking away.

"It was in the laundry room." You offer with a smile, nodding behind you. Austin had begged you to keep an eye out for it, which you took personally and went out of your way to look for. You know some of the janitors didn't pay any mind to what they were cleaning, just grabbing it and cleaning it accordingly.

Astro swallows at the new information, the fresh smell of laundry finally registering as he backed away from the edge of a panic attack. The fact that you went out of your way to grab it for him, without even a hint of the why to it all, was not lost on him. His fingers curled around the edge of the blanket as he kept his second set of arms curled tightly around his abdomen, watching. He would remember your kindness, filing it away for later. He would pay it back, he swears.

He tries to thank you, he does, but the words get stuck in his throat, drying on his tongue. They refuse to leave and he's forced to once again clamp his mouth shut. Eventually he hopes to get over this. He knows who you are, you've both met if only briefly, and you were just as friendly and selfless then, full of smiles and laughter.

You don't seem to fear anything, running around like a mouse in the background on a near constant basis. He had never seen you stand still and almost envied you for it. You almost seemed like a never ending ball of energized fuzz.

The thought made him hide a grin in the fur of his blanket.

Austin gave you a final thanks before moving back to smooth out Astro's cape, and you were off once more.

"...Can they come?" Astro found himself asking, leaning over Austin's shoulder to watch the doorway you came through.

"Come where?"

"To the skydome." Astro swallows. "I-...I think they'd like it."

You don't hear their conversation after you leave, instead trotting back to the costume area. You and Poppy were assigned to help the children in the photo area dress up as their favorite characters while Boxten helped them take pictures. It made the time pass by quickly and you loved seeing the children smile in their Scraps headbands or replicas of Flutter's wings.

You were just straightening out a little girl's bow, which she chose to look like Poppy, when the first shrill scream rung out. There was silence before more screams. You looked back at Poppy, who looked just as concerned as you did. Parents then came storming in, scooping their children up and running out as the lights began flashing red, an alarm screaming in the air.

You, Poppy and Boxten worked to ensure the children in your care found their parents, directing them to the nearest exit just as you were instructed to do.

"Go! We got it from here!" Boxten shouted at you, pointing to the hall that lead to the Foyer. "Check on everyone else! You're faster than we are!"

You nodded and took off once more, feet pounding against the ground as you tried to help everywhere you could. When you finally got to the heart of the foyer, you were horrified at the state it was in. That and the beast now charging at you. It looked like Dandy, only with much sharper teeth, and claws out reached for you. His red eyes shined brightly as they locked onto you, quickly taking after you. You swallowed before turning tail and taking off into the staff wing. There were no children or families there, and if meant you or the children, you would rather it be you every time.

Unfortunately, that rest of that night was clouded by the sounds of you choking on your own ichor as Dandy pinned you. And then nothing.

Blinking, you shake your head, letting a heavy breath out as you curl into yourself tighter. Remembering the day it all went wrong never failed to make your chest absolutely ache, but it never left you alone. Not during your time as a twisted, and not after. Even now, with more of you back since it happened, it seemed your subconscious was having a blast mix and matching the horrors you have seen since Gardenview closed and haunting you whenever sleep had graced you. Astro had tried his hardest to help, which you appreciated, but he can't stop everything. Some are bound to slip through the cracks.

Tonight seemed to be one of those nights.

Sitting out on the balcony, you let the cool night breeze blow through your fuzz as you try to recover from the latest nightmare. It was from your limited time as a twisted.

The only ones to escape the carnage were Poppy and Boxten, who took it upon themselves to help the rest of you. They trekked floor after floor until they completed the first completion of research and you were returned to your normal self. From there, you three learned and tested. You carved your way through the bad times, and the worst times, healing each other when the bite marks and claw marks were too painful to heal on their own. You still had the scars, carefully covered with clothing and fur. You wanted it to remain that way.

You had grown experienced enough in your role as a distractor, moreso with the aid of trinkets, enough so that there were no longer days patches of fuzz were burnt, torn or ripped off. They would remain hidden.

You huffed another breath, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. You had done such harm because you were so...angry. So hurt. You couldn't see straight while under the ichor, that much you could remember, charging at anything that so much as moved in your line of sight. You'd chase and chase and chase them down, breaking through boxes if they tried to hide. It was awful looking back. You were thankful no one else had that power, but the fact that you had it was enough to leave you fearing your own strength.

"Starlight?"

You perked up from where you were hiding your face between your knees and chest, turning behind you. Astro was there, one hand on the doorway while another scratched at his chin. His other two arms were crossed across his waist, either to brace himself against the cold or just where he wanted them to sit. You weren't sure yet.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" You're quick to apologize, turning more fully to face him. He shook his head, though judging by the bags under his eyes, he was either lying or out here for the same reason you were.

"Why are you out here, starlight? There's a chill." He's quick to come up behind you, wrapping the arms that were crossed around you while the other two settle on your shoulders. He scans your face as he does this, noting your red eyes and puffy cheeks. Immediately he's frowning, one of the hands on your shoulders coming up to cup your cheek. "You had a bad dream."

"These things happen, moonshine. They're out of your control." You're quick to reassure, cupping the hand on your cheek with your own as you burrow into it.

"Are they? I'm in charge of dreams around here, you know." His forehead leaned on yours as he tightened the hold around your waist. "You can tell me."

You took a slow breath. "I just keep thinking back to my time as a Twisted. I don't think any amount of good dream juice is enough to stop those memories." You admit slowly. "I'm sorry. I should be over it by now. I was one of the first cured, but I just-... I could destroy those large crates, you know." You tell him. There's no other reaction he heard you other than the slow move of his thumb along your hip, so you continue. "No one could hide from me. The second you caught my attention, the chase was on. The only way to lose me was to hope I was stunned by charging the crates long enough you could hide before I saw you again."

Astro hums at this, but you're continuing on anyway.

"I was-...Am terrified of what I'm capable. I know that if I get caught like that again, it's not just Poppy and Boxten taking the brunt of it. It's- It's you and Sprout and Cosmo and-"

"Do you remember the day the outbreak happened?" Astro suddenly cut in, making you pause. It's an odd question, but you nod to the best of your abilities anyway. Astro takes a moment to step back, jumping up to sit on the balcony beside you with one arm around your waist while the other on the same side plays with your hair.

"Do you remember what you were doing?"

"I was in costume."

"Before that."

You take a moment, sorting through the soured memories of that day before ultimately coming up short. Astro seems to expect this as he continues right after. "You were running errands. The second we were woken that day, it seemed you were constantly moving. I didn't see you until later that day. I had misplaced my cloak that day." He explains, waving one of his free hands as he does. "I was in the middle of a total breakdown as I didn't want the others to know of...Well, you know." It manages to make you crack a grin, which he smiles at before continuing. "Then you show up. You didn't immediately call for Austin's attention, but I saw you the moment you stepped in."

You let out a chuckle. "Weren't you scared Pebbles would drool on your cloak?"

He laughs at this, but nods. "It's happened before. Leaves the fabric all...tough. But when I saw you? Especially with cloak in hand?" The hand on your waist pulls you in closer. "I thought I finally met my guardian angel. "

This time you let out a cackle, leaning on his shoulder. "Be so for real."

"I am!" He waves off your cackles, allowing you to settle. "I wanted to bring you to the Sky dome, you know. Asked Austin and everything, but never got the chance."

"Such a shame. I would've loved to go."

"I never said it's too late." Astro slides off the balcony, holding out a hand to you. "I know the code to the projector room. Would you care to accompany me?" He grins. "The other two are still passed out."

You take his hand, giving a dopey grin. "That sounds wonderful."

And exactly what you needed to forget about whatever was keeping you up anyway.

☁ So, in this world, the outbreak happens during the day, turning the initial toons, save for poppy and Boxten, the starter toons.

☁ One by one they probably rescue the other toons the same way I've explained Main rescues go. They get 100% research and Dandy offers a cure of sorts.

☁ From there, the ichor that did turn them into the original Twisteds remain, creating clones while the original toons get to return to normal life.

☁ Trinkets are like keychains enhanced with the same power ups they have in game. There are several of each one, but more than two at a time can provide issues with magic overload, making them more sluggish, less powerful, etc.

☁ Toons still have their special abilities as well, with cool downs. I've touched on this before but, for example, Cosmo's ability? He can feel when he uses it, normally infusing a bit of his life force into a treat the distractors/whoever can eat while on the move. Sprout can also do this, however should the need arise they also can redirect this directly onto any sort of wound.

☁ If an OG toon gets injured, bad ichor enters their system. If they're hit enough times, they can be returned back to their original twisted form and the process has to be repeated, which is why Safety is a huge concern during runs.

☁ Speaking of, Toons have the ability to return to the foyer/ entrance of Gardenview whenever they wish as long as everyone is in the elevator.

☁ I think that's it, but if there are any questions I would be more than happy to answer!

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

I can see cowboy having some tension within the team when he feels like his theories are going unheard and his opinion unvalued when they're all throwing ideas around. I feel like he'd gradually start stress eatin' more and more sunflower seeds until he runs out and just leaps up in the middle of spencer's long-winded argument after cowboy's suggestion has gone unheard by the team for the third time in five minutes he practically runs for the door because his allergies are about to hit fever pitch or he's gunna go smash some government issued coffee mugs.

This is right when you join the BAU, before everything.

Warnings: bad government knowledge on Atlas' part, I did try to google it but idk guys, trying my best here. Oh, also, stress eating.

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @anonstories08

"Perhaps the unsub's a teenager," Spencer theorises and you want to slam your head against the desk. Because that's what you've been trying to put forth for the last ten minutes - ignored each time.

Instead, you say nothing, just continuing to shovel the sunflower seeds into your mouth before you say something you'll regret. "We should have seen that sooner..." Hotch mutters.

'I did.' You think bitterly, letting a handful of sunflower seeds fall into your mouth.

"But why is he targetting these men?" Garcia asked. Whoever the unsub was, he was going round shooting men - never life-threatening, but clearly out for revenge of some sort.

"Maybe someone like them scorned him in his past," You say, Prentiss talking over you before you can get your third word out. You were gonna need some more sunflower seeds real soon if this kept going. How many sunflower seeds were healthy to consume in a day?

You close your eyes for a moment before trying yet again to reiterate your point. This time, though, Reid cuts you off with a long list of statistics about female offenders.

"I think someone in his past hurt him and these guys remind him of them." Morgan says and you realise you're out of sunflower seeds. You shoot up, knowing that you didn't have many options right now (what with your anger): 1, scream at them (not literally but close enough), 2, throw the closest mug at the wall (but these were government-issued mugs so that probably wasn't the best idea), or 3, get some more sunflower seeds to munch on whilst you try not to regret your entire life decisions.

You don't know if they've even realised you've left the room and you can't be fucked to check. Instead, you head on over to your bag, pulling out a fresh pack of sunflower seeds and open it before making your way back to the room.

"Everything okay?" Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes sir," You answer, "Ran out of sunflower seeds. Figured no one would notice if I left anyway,"

"I know you were part of hostage negotiation previously, but we work as a team here."

You look at him for a moment, debating saying something. On calling his bullshit because clearly you only worked part of a team here if they had accepted you as a part of their 'group' - which you clearly weren't in yet. You settle for a simple, one worded answer.

"Interestin'." You say before resuming the eating of your sunflower seeds.

"Excuse me?" Hotch asked, clenching his jaw in frustration.

"Surprised you heard me, Sir," You said, "That's all,"

"Is there a problem here?"

"You tell me," You answer, "You're the boss."

"We'll talk about this later. We have more important things to be concerned about right now."

You tilted your head ever so slightly in a small nod of acknowledgement before turning back to the bag of sunflower seeds in your hands as you listened to the team - seeing no point in joining in at this point.

[misqnon]

What’s your opinion on redemption arc/Autobot Megatron? (MTMTE/Lost Light or Earthspark or both)

oooooh that's a Good one

now see. the thing is. i can't really give an Informed answer.

i'm not very far into earthspark, but he does begin that series as an "autobot" so its not like i missed any buildup. i like his attitude in that series (unrelated but also his scottish accent...i adore his voice and it fits him really well actually) it's nice that (from what i've seen) he still disagrees with optimus quite a lot but they're more willing to talk things out, which is the perfect situation of a redeemed megs imo. like when he stands up for imprisoned decepticons now that the war is over and optimus is like "hmmm i suppose you have a point." im glad switching sides didn't make him automatically throw away all his previous ideals.

now mtmte/LL megs? here's the thing. i Love mtmte/ll megs. probably my favorite incarnation of him so far. i'm a sucker for villains and an even bigger sucker for villains with redemption arcs, so no surprise there. but. i read mtmte/ll without reading any of the prior idw comics except last stand of the wreckers. so i cant really say if his character in mtmte does his redemption Well Enough to make up for whatever he did in the rest of the idw continuity bc i havent seen it! i dont know how bad the bad gets! it's entirely possible (and in fact i'm getting the idea that this is the case) that idw megs feels like a completely different character (i.e. far more ruthless and mindlessly violent) than the thoughtful, if not stern, co captain we see in mtmte megs. and in that case, maybe it spoils mtmte megs a little bit bc it wont feel realistic.

that being said...even if that's true...i probably won't care lmao. i haven't read a comic series in a WHILE (not since i was into xmen in like 2017 and even then i wasn't very into the comics themselves) but i know that comics get handed off to various writers through their run that makes them often retcon or not follow well between one another. i've quickly learned that everyone pretty much hails james roberts as king while the rest of the writers are more hit or miss (and i think i agree) so even if idw megs was totally irredeemable and james roberts did it anyway i would not care. because in his story? in mtmte? it Works. it works really well.

from mtmte i went in still having knowledge overall of what megatron is like (i'd seen the 86 movie, clips of g1, tfone, and all of transformers prime at that point) so i still had a guage of what redeeming megatron meant. and it still hit really well for me. particularly the fact that he was still Kind Of feeling out being good or not after his trial, along with how he visibly had to grow into being good. it took a WHILE for him to get to a point where i was like "okay NOW he's actually finally redeemed." by the time they ended up in the functionist universe and i believed with 100% certainty megs would never betray them or try to run. but earlier on? like when the getaway/tailgate thing happened? i was a bit worried lol. but that scene was handled well too! he did lash out, but he also apologized and didnt intend such harm. growth

and i think this scene alone. this arc. just really made mtmte/ll megs Work.

(ouch)

[heyybaejjk]

MODERN AO'NUNG HCS PT. 2 — SAMOAN!FEM READER

pairing. human!ao'nung x samoan!fem reader

summary. just Ao'nung with a Samoan girlfriend

warnings. swearing

a/n. for my polynesian babes wherever yall at ❤️

masterlist. pt. 1 pt. 3

AAPI month and Samoan Independence day have passed and I think of this idea NOW 😭☠️ out of all times wtf

BUT ITS SUNDAY AND STILL SAMOAN LANGUAGE WEEK ‼️

But idc 🧍‍♀️

Gotta do what I gotta do because I am not letting ts go

I love my culture, just like anyone else does, I'm still learning more about it so I researched and placed some of my own knowledge into this.

Aiuli - Participants who dance and cheer around a solo performer as they dance. Participants are never allowed to dance and cheer in front of the performer, only from behind them.

Taualaga - A performance, importantly the last, to close off an event. Mainly done by a solo female performer. Some are allowed to have people in the back while they Aiuli, some just rather have a solo performance.

"WHAT?" he screams in the middle of class, causing everyone to glance at him.

It was supposed to be a surprise, really. But your ass accidentally slipped out the fact that you were going to perform a cultural dance on Multicultural Day that was coming in a few weeks.

He would definitely try to Aiuli when you dance.

No questions asked.

Although he doesn't know how to properly dance the traditional way, he'll look around and copy the actions of the other pupils.

You both are heavy on learning each other's culture, so when he forgets a certain thing, he goes to your cousins to ask for help

"Wait so- I can't ae-oo-lee in front of her?" Ao'nung poorly pronounces, a slight dark tint on his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck.

"Never. Always stay behind her, or whoever is doing the solo," a boy says with his arms folded against his chest. "If you see people giving money during the dance, don't throw it at her while cheering. Be respectful and softly stick to her arms, they're gonna be covered with oil, anyway. If you can't do that, put it on the ground behind her.

"Right, right..." Ao'nung frantically jots down as the latter continues to speak.

On the day of your dance, he gets so confused when he sees people swarming around, especially in front of you. He will literally stand there like 🧍‍♀️???

But doesn't copy the others as he sees his friend from earlier who told him what not to do, cheering from behind. He smiles warmly before sticking noted bills onto your oiled arms. Kissing your cheek slyly before going back to his position.

"Alu ai gi ou kae."

Bro got slapped. Not too hard, but hard enough to know that he said something wrong.

"Ow! Baby, what was that for?" He holds his cheek, rubbing it softly. Slightly pouting while looking down at your shorter figure. Quite dramatically because you felt like all you did was tap his cheek.

"Why did you say that for?" You looked up at him with your nose scrunched.

"I asked Vika how to say "wanna kiss?" I asked him an hour ago so my pronunciation wasn't that horrible." He sulks. You roll your eyes before cupping his face, leaving kisses all over his cheeks, nose and forehead. "Yeah well, you just told me to go eat shit. Vika's Tongan, you idiot. He only knows the swear words."

i wanted to write sm more but i rather keep this short LOLOL.

[tvlandofficiall]

seam ships ranking tierlist?

this is a little less of a tierlist and more of an unsorted assortment of the pairs i'm invested in, but;

SEAVIL

gamewise; i admit i will forever be most partial to the shopboss pairs because – in my humble opinion – they really have it ALL. seam watching jevil descend into madness and – rather than being horrified by it – being were so intrigued that even now what jevil had said in those moments of madness lingers deep within them. seam wishing they hadn't locked him up for that madness at all because he gave them more of a "purpose" than anything their fate or their status as "object" could offer them. the ambiguity as to whether they were even friends at all, or if it was solely their positions in the court and the thrill of the "numbers game" that kept them coming back to one another.

headcanonwise; the phrase "mutually unrequited love" made absolutely zero sense to me until i thought too hard about these two. they're both one another's "one that got away" – they both think they should've professed their love before jevil had to be locked up and think of one another almost like fleeting mirages (only worsened by having both seen the state of their being in the light world.)

SEAMSWATCH

what can i say? these two have absurd chemistry every time i do a writing "sketch" where they're the subjects. they're admittedly the relationship that's the most my own invention out of any of these, but i think there's a lot of really fascinating stuff you could do with them. they're both in the same position of having a shadow crystal holder that was close with them – seam is really the only person swatch can talk to about spamton now that they're in castle town. and too; what does seam know about the lightner that created neo through their hands? why are they so mysterious? just what was the crystal in neo? there's an interesting detective & them fatale (get it?) dynamic to be found there and their personalities are both so charged for it that i just can't get enough of them.

SEAMQUEEN

i'm honestly surprised these two didn't take off more after ch2 given mysterious past relationships seem to be the name of the game for deltarune fans. aside from said mysterious shared past though these two are classic character foils – queen believes wholeheartedly in her own mistaken assumptions about the machinations of this world and seam is by contrast so aware of said machinations and said world that they've given up on it near-entirely. just that alone provides a lot of fascinating ways the two can bounce off of one another; especially in snowgrave where the violence of queen's entire world being pulled out from under her becomes apparent to her. seam meanwhile knows that sort of thing is inevitable – one way or another queen's world would be destroyed and one way or another her people would be discarded. in fact, it's happened to them already! why worry? why not come stay with them a while? (and even in a normal route, consider they seem to know about other game files – would they know of a snowgrave file then? could they look with nothing but their own detatched fascination at an old friend who they far surpass in knowledge now? she seems to have been gone from the kingdom some time before jevil was locked away – or i think so, at least – and so she's no idea of just how much her old friend has changed.)

and on queen's end; i think she and the pandora palace crew are quite close, but i don't doubt she misses the old court crew, especially while she's first finding her footing as the sole ruler of cyber world. there's no way seam wasn't sneaking around with queen back when they were younger; they're the sort i think queen would have a blast just drinking and going back and forth with. she's the kind of person who prioritizes a good time (doesn't everyone?) and so seam – who's always had a layabout streak – is happy to take her side when trying to get the kings to throw grand balls or when she just wants to ditch 'em entirely. all in all very underexplored very classic yuri that deserves to have more than three posts in the tag in my humble (read: extremely biased) opinion.

SEAMKING

this is the one i would not say i "ship" but that i will say i think happened in the time between jevil being locked away and the knight arriving / all the kings being locked away / the remaining court members being fired. spades king spent many a night privately telling seam about his ire towards the kingdom's state of abandonment. seam was seam about it. they probably laughed mysteriously at him about it. he probably hated it. he probably liked it a little more than he'd like to like it. you know how it is.

[iamthecomet]

@anotherghoul666 sent me this ask a thousand years ago, and I wrote the first option.

Today, I have a craving for the second. @forlorn-crows more Dew/Aether fluff so you will spare my life. Dew's hair, under the cut.

It's been a long day. One of the bad ones. Dew's head aches behind his eyes. They're halfway through a tour. It's about this time that everyone usually starts to get cranky. Mountain misses his plants, Rain misses water. Dew misses his bed. This tour is apparently no exception. Cirrus got into a snarling fit with Swiss over breakfast. And Mountain threw a drumstick at Dew while they were backstage. If he wasn't as agile as he is, it would have cracked his goggles. He's over it. Over all of it. The traveling, the ever-revolving scenery, the shitty gas station coffee, the endless dive bars. He likes the shows. Likes playing. Likes the way people reach out for him like they're expecting he will jump off stage and into their arms all because they waved at him. That part feels good. It feels like the thing he's supposed to be doing. The thing he was made for. He's had enough of the rest of it. Tonight's show was good. They've got it all down to a science now. But Dew knows he missed a mark somewhere. Every show blurs together after a while and he suddenly can't remember if it was two days ago that he stumbled down the steps of his platform or tonight. Maybe he was a little too far away from center stage at the start of Ritual. Or--did he remember to choke Rain? He doesn't know. It's a whirlwind. His head pounds. He throws himself onto the hotel bed and snarls into the pillow, bunching it up under his face as he does. He's still lying there, fully clothed, face down on the bed when he hears the keycard in the door. It swings open. He hears Aether walk in and drop his stuff off to the side. "Are you alive, firefly?" "No," Dew answers miserably. "headache." The bend sinks beside him as Aether sits. "Everyone else is going out." "Don't care," Dew grumbles into the pillow. "I'll be here when you get back."

Aether makes a noise, and then he shifts, laying down on the bed and rolling on his side to look at Dew. He slides his hand up Dew's arm, over his shoulder, and then under the curtain of hair to brush it away from the side of his face. Dew cracks his eyes open to look at Aether without actually moving his face from the pillow. "I can stay." "You don't have to. I'm good." Aether side his hand up over the back of Dew's neck and into his hair. Dew visibly sags deeper into the bed.

"You sick of me too? already?" Aether jokes. He presses down and rubs his thumbs over the back of Dew's skull. Dew knows he can probably feel his headache. His powers are weird like that. But he doesn't push, doesn't try to take it away. He just guides his fingers over Dew's scalp, and Dew closes his eyes and lets himself feel it. "Never sick of you, Aeth," Dew answers, honesty dragged out of him under the pressure of Aether's gentle fingers. Dewdrop doesn't know when Aether learned how to braid. He certainly have the knowledge when he first got topside. But over the years, he's learned it. Gotten good at it, even. It's become their thing. Something Aether does whenever Dew has a long day, a bad day, or a headache. Sometimes, even just when Aether's bored and Dew's hair is in range. Dew usually wakes up after a night with Aether to small braids hidden behind his ears. Things Aether worked up while Dew slept next to him. So, it doesn't surprise him when Aether starts to comb his fingers down through Dew's hair absently. He knows he's sweaty from the show--a shower had seemed secondary to throwing himself on the bed and forgetting his existence. But Aether doesn't seem to care. It doesn't stop him from guiding his hands through every inch of the golden strands. He's careful as he works the snags from Dew's hair. Combing through over and over, from root to tip, even after it's tangle free. Dew sighs into the motion. He presses his face deeper into the hotel pillow. It smells like bleach, a thousand other people's shampoo. He wants to be home in his own bed, or maybe Aether's. The smell of lavender surrounding him. But he can't have it, and this is far better than nothing. He sighs. Deft fingers gather small sections of Dew's hair. Dew feels Aether's fingers move against his ear, the smallest catch of claws on his skin, not painful, a reminder of how vulnerable he is like this. That one wrong move and Aether could flay him open.

But he won't.

Dew lets himself drift as Aether dots his head with braids. He stops thinking about the tour. About Mountain and his fucking drumstick. About Cirrus and Swiss screaming at each other first thing in the morning. He stops thinking about whatever mark it is he missed. He stops thinking about everything. It's like any time Aether puts him on his knees. Like his body knows that if Aether is here--he can let go. He doesn't have to think, to be, to do. He's free of weight, of obligation, of decision. He cannot form the words to voice his appreciation. But he thinks Aether knows. He doesn't think he has to tell him how much this means to him. How much he loves him. The headache fades. Aether keeps braiding long after Dew falls asleep.

[twistedisciple]

If you were to ask Marni what the other Hounds liked, she wouldn't be able to give more than a surface level answer. Zephia liked Lord Sombron. Griss liked getting hurt. Mauvier liked Veyle. Marni liked getting praise. Anything further than that wasn't information they needed to know about each other to do their jobs. When other people found out what their little family was like, they'd make that uncomfortable smile, as if they were something to be pitied.

They just didn't get it.

As far as Marni's concerned, not knowing that much about each other's personal lives is way better than getting saddled with too much knowledge. Likes, dislikes, personal preferences... what does she need to know any of that for? It hadn't mattered even the tiniest bit back when she had actually tried that and it didn't matter now.

This does, unfortunately, pose a problem when Griss' birthday rolls around and she has no idea what to get him. It'd be weird for her to get him something, right? No, it'd definitely weirder if she didn't. Putting aside the whole... everything, she should probably at least get him something. Because she'd feel bad if no one gave him anything, that's all.

Yeah, that's it. He's a real grade A weirdo, so he probably won't get anything. Ah, poor guy! On his one and only birthday this year, no less! He's lucky that his pal Marni is magnanimous enough to get him something if no one else will.

But this still doesn't solve the issue of what exactly that something should be. After enough punching her pillow and groaning to get herself forcibly ousted from the shared dorm room in Abyss, she takes to the marketplace. Maybe something there will jump out at her.

It just so happens that she does eventually find something in the end.

"Here, this is for you!" She shouts when she finally tracks down Griss, throwing at full force tossing a small box wrapped in a pink ribbon at him. "For your birthday! It's a magic ring. I dunno how it works, but apparently when you put it on, it sends little spikes into your skin that dig deeper if you try to pull it off without hitting the little button that releases it. Cool, right? I bet no one else would give you something as cool as this! I looked all over for this, so feel free to tell me about how good I am at picking out gifts!"

And she does indeed look mighty proud of herself for someone who had agonized so much over just what to get him. Even so, she digs at the ground with the toe of her boot a little sheepishly.

"I-if it's no good, I guess I could maybe break your hand or something...?" An insane proposition for literally anyone else, but regardless, Marni seems to regain heart after she says it aloud. "Yeah, we'll call it a special birthday service! 'Cause I'm super generous like that."

...Since when?

Birthday asks (Happy 29th)

He’d completely forgotten about the tentative alliance he’d made with Marni back on the archipelago. That’s what Griss thinks first when he sees the girl thundering down the street toward him. He should have praised her for — well, anything, probably — but that had always been Zephia’s job, so it didn’t even cross his mind again after they’d left the tea party. Maybe he’d tell her now. The sharp point of a box slams into his chest, barely caught between his hands, and turns whatever he was going to say (which was nothing really worth saying, even to someone who lived off superficial compliments like Marni did) into rasping laughter.

”What? You actually remembered?” he taunts, smudging a little spot of blood with his thumb and giving the box a shake. And maybe the surprise would have lasted a little longer, and been a little more genuine, had Marni not made her motivations so clear so fast. Praise. Of course that was what she wanted. Griss sneers, because he’d always thought his leash was the better one.

”What are you gonna do if I hate it?” he asks, shaking the box at her toyingly. “Bad gifts ruin birthdays, you know.”

It was an odd dance between the two of them, like dogs picking up the loose ends of each other’s leashes. Marni would inflict pain for praise, and Griss only ever gave out praise when he was in pain. It worked, in some very twisted, messed up way. This was what Zephia had done.

Wrapping flutters from the box in pieces, followed by the lid Griss drops haphazardly to the ground. On a small cushion sits a dangerous-looking band of metal, encircled along the inside by small spikes, which he takes out to try on immediately. Tossing the rest of the box to the ground, he uses both hands to wedge one of his silver rings off over his knuckle, then slips on the new one. It goes on far easier than it comes off, catching a layer of skin as he gives it a couple of tests. The look on his face says it’s perfect. Exquisite, even.

But saying so would be too easy. Instead, he steps over the discarded gift wrapping to hook his arm around Marni’s neck, still grinning, barely even trying to pretend to look like he’s disappointed.

”Well, well, looks like this ring ain’t as good as you thought.” He holds his hand out in front of her and flares his fingers to show it off. A thin line of blood has already started trickling down from it. “Better get that special birthday service ready, ‘cause that’s the only way you’re gonna make up for it! Hehehe, let's see your axe.”

-

They would, fortunately or unfortunately, not get to the hand-breaking part, thanks to a meddling knight.

[themculibrary]

Spring Masterlist

A Day in Spring (ao3) - ros_bui G, 3k

Summary: "So, as he did a hurried inspection of his immediate surroundings, he was honestly surprised to find this initial prediction to be entirely wrong. For, he pleasantly saw he was most certainly not alone...For underneath one of the few trees, scattered amongst the intricate stonework of the main courtyard, sat Doctor Stephen Strange."

A moment of friendship and lightness between true friends.

A (Not So) Relaxing Stroll (ao3) - gnatromanoff clint/natasha G, 1k

Summary: Within five seconds of walking outside, Natasha sneezes.

Before she can protest it, Clint has a finger in her face as he laughs and laughs.

"You have allergies!"

(She's going to kill him.)

Get Messy (ao3) - storiesfortravellers steve/sam T, 605

Summary: For this prompt at comment-fic on livejournal: Steve/Sam, Sam shows Steve how to have fun again

Hopeful Romantics (ao3) - CobaltStargazer yelena/kate M, 3k

Summary: It was winter when they met, spring when they got married. Kate and Yelena on their wedding day.

In Bloom (ao3) - themirrordarkly G, 1k

Summary: The pink explosions of color so different to the fiery ones two years ago at this very place. Soft petals gently rained down, not burning soot and twisted metal.

"He pulled me out, you know." Steve said, without looking at Sam.

Sam pulled up and walked over to Steve. "Of course, he did."

*** Sam finds Steve reminiscing about what happened two years ago.

in time of daffodils (ao3) - imposterhuman bucky/tony G, 49k

Summary: Tony Stark, Prince of Spring, knew that he was being married off to the Winter King. He knew he'd hate it, he was prepared to hate it.

What he wasn't prepared for was the Winter King himself.

Love is in the breeze (ao3) - Mimisempai loki/mobius G, 506

Summary: Just a tender moment in the spring breeze

One Flower a Day (ao3) - Eva_Swan matt/karen G, 6k

Summary: Matt and Karen are in a good place. But Foggy is growing impatient: he wants his friends to get back together as soon as possible. A wish Maggie shares. She thus gets Matt to tell her all about his plan to win Karen back... and executes it without his knowledge. For a week, she'll send Karen one flower a day, each carrying a special meaning. Will this be enough to bring these two together again?

Photosynthesis (ao3) - bonusholegent loki/sylvie G, 300

Summary: She looked like the sun on the first day of spring.

Seasons (ao3) - aimmyarrowshigh yelena/kate T, 100

Summary: Seasons. Winter turns to spring, as it always does. But everything is different this year.

Splendor (ao3) - deweydrops loki/sigyn M, 68k

Summary: Loki and Sigyn Modern AU, part 4. Spring finds Sigyn on the verge of graduation and looking to see where her next venture will take her. Meanwhile, Loki grapples with the toll his high stress, competitive career has taken on him, and what it means if it's not what he wants after all. Both are in need of a little renewal, but what will it take to fully embrace change?

Springtime in the Park (ao3) - hannahrhen loki/tony G, 873

Summary: On a perfect afternoon, Tony has a question answered.

sweet fine day (ao3) - dogeared T, 425

Summary: These are the things that Bucky likes, now.

The Daffodil Project (ao3) - JudeAndronicus (judeandronicus) steve/bucky G, 987

Summary: It's springtime in Brooklyn, and Steve has something to show Bucky. Complete and utter fluff.

The First Spring (ao3) - GreenQueenOfClubs clint/phil T, 4k

Summary: A new spring brings a new love! Cliche? Yes, absolutly. But then you throw in a world class archer, a super spy and a corgi, and you get a whole new story!

The Nesting Season (ao3) - fangirlSevera clint/phil T, 6k

Summary: Spring is the time of year when families grow, and so it is for Clint who wants to adopt a dog.

In the meantime, professors and students alike are being run ragged as the end of the college semester draws near.

The Sisterhood Of The Ruby Stilettos XXV: A Picnic With Peppery Potato Salad ;) (ao3) - BradyGirl_12 pepper/natasha G, 951

Summary: As spring blossoms, Natasha and Pepper enjoy a picnic in Central Park. :)

Wild Bodies (ao3) - andloawhatsit natasha/sam G, 10k

Summary: Having hexed her last mark, Natasha, erstwhile hedgewitch-for-hire, disappears into the woods, there to begin the balancing of her personal ledger after a seeming lifetime of curses, petty and otherwise, for pay. But the solitude of her strange and living cottage in-between worlds is soon disrupted, first by an unusual bird nursing wounds of their own, and then by a strange child, who appears from nowhere seeking a curse…

[heinzpilsner]

It's basically me analysing things with Yon Rha again, but withot being too offensively unempathic and biased, lol

Hey, I'm trying, you can give me that at least!

(Perhaps if I didn't ignore all my notifications, I'd get it faster, but hey, I quite enjoy my little intellectual puzzle here so far. Don't wanna spoil it for myself with interactivity, lol)

Okay, thinking of Katara's encounter with Yon Rha not through the prizm of my zutara brainrot now (not gonna pretend it is not affecting my judgment, it most definitely still is, lol), maybe I'm not giving enough credit to the cognitive/informational component of this event.

(Your honour, there are so many components in here, and whose components have components on their components! You can't expect me to juggle all of them at the same time and not ending up like Zuko during his date with Jin, lol)

Previously I said it was a fruitless trip, but I didn't really take into account the specifics of the case - the ones connected to learning Yon Rha's side of the story and seeing him as a person, - as well as more subtle psychological consequences of the encounter. But as I said early, I'm not a psychologist (also, not the most emphatically gifted person around, as you already can tell I guess, yikes), and my understanding of intricacies of such inner workings is quite limited.

Also, there is a thing to consider - I don't know much about the writer, and how psychologically competent she was. Of course, I could go full "author is dead" approach here and try and read really hard into this case as if it was a real life event (I wouldn't be surprised if someone much more competent than I already did it though), but... I'm trying working through "what author really implied by this" logic when analysing tSR because I respect the writer's ability to build a coherent psychological narrative within her work - given how ambitious she was with the complexion of chosen topics, you'd expect no less from her. Just throwing a bunch of random events on your audience end expect them to built their customised narrative out of it may be a fun postmodern game, but... Just but, I guess.

What I'm saying here is that there's two things about the encounter that can be easily noticed even by most casual watchers but not by me apparently geez.

First of them is that Katara learns there was a reason behind her mother's death - namely, Katara's waterbending. Oh boy. What can I say? I guess the girl could live without the guilt and painful associations connected to her bending produced by the knowledge. Another point to my "maybe facing Yon Rha wasn't such a great idea after all" argument, I guess.

Still, it was important for Katara to learn about her mother's last moments and sacrifice. It was pretty insensitive of me to overlook this fact in my previous analysis (... and I can only imagine how many people I potentially pissed off by this, oops. In my defence though - the whole "revenge" context was pretty distracting). I guess you can't call the trip completely fruitless then - althouht the fruits, may I say, were bittersweet at best and sour at worst.

(Thinking about it now, it's kinda curious that the only truly valuable thing Zuko got from his "closure" with Ozai well, except for the valuable opportunity to practice his lightening redirection was information about his mum as well, even though it wasn't his initial intention. Was it a deliberate parallel, I wonder?

... Wait a minute, why it wasn't Zuko's intention though? It would make much more sense, if you ask me. Oh well, I guess writers had too many things to juggle on their hands as well.)

Another thing is that at the start of the episode Yon Rha was a "monster" for Katara, and then he became just an empty sad man to her. I take it as a deliberate point the writer made. But what exactly does it mean within the narrative? Just a fact of life? A thing for Katara (and audience) to reflect on with no real consequences within the plot?

Or was Yon Rha's personality somehow connected to why Katara forgave Zuko, after all? But how, exactly?

I can only think of juxtaposition. "Look at this guy, Zuko is not so empty and cares about his mum, hence he's worth of forgiveness" kind of logic. But... I mean, Zuko has many problems obviously but emptiness was never one of them, lol. It still counted, perhaps - amongst other small weights on the scales (the weight of it depends entirely on Katara's previous assessment of Zuko's personality though, and I have reasons to believe it wasn't so unflattering at this point).

Does this whole 'cognitive' perspective rearrange my understanding of the reasons behind Katara's forgiveness of Zuko? Yep.

Looking at the trip as meaningful for Katara now (Zuko helped her to learn about her mother's sacriface), it makes much more sense to me. Many of my previous arguments still stand, but the weight shifted more towards platonic reasons (I mean, on one hand, this reason is linked to their connection in Ba Sing Se and reinforces it, but on the other, it's a rational reason for forgiveness, as opposed to irrational ones).

Which feels more appropriate by being less shippy, even though it was fun to compose bizzare conspiracy theories about secretly coded zutara puzzle left by the writer for us to decipher, lol (Your honour, the writer was zutara, it wouldn't be that unlikely!)

It's all about interpretations though. As I said, there are so many components in here you can easily transform the context by shifting the weights as you like.

(Ugh, my posts manage to become obsolete so fast. But hey, it's my live thinking process you're looking at, what do you expect, lol?

I'm not trying to create perfect things for people to repost or something. It's just me playing with my mind to relax. It's nice.)

[whenthechickencry]

Umineko Ch1. Replay 8 (Ch1 end)

You got it Battler

You aren't wrong in that they enabled him far more than what is acceptable in other ways, though, Jessica

It's fun how they use terms such as "Head" "Master" etc to switch the subject from Kinzo to Yasu without changing the word in the sentence

Feel like George is the most Kinzo-like of the family, honestly think Yasu might have ended up feeling trapped if they stayed with George

They are spelling out a lot of things you should keep in mind for the rest of the game here

Took a rather long time for Genji to downright lie about stuff here, huh?

Huh, was he delusional enough to think picking kids at random would eventually bring baby Yasu back? I mean, it did, but that's clearly not a logical course of action. Or did he just see that as some weird kind of atonement?

They finally figured out that the murders were following the epitaph, took them long enough! First time I read it I was a bit annoyed at how long it took them lol.

Natsuhi getting off some good deductions! This scene is so exciting, honestly, the song definitely helps. As much as it is easy to give her shit for also throwing Maria to the wolves, she was ultimately right. And honestly, if there wasn't a bomb, this was probably the only way to guarantee her and Jessica's safety.

She hits right at the heart of Battler's action for much of the question arc here, too, though.

There are actually so many points here when the characters are right on... but the characters hitting the point just makes you want to deny that more, doesn't it?

It's really hard to judge Yasu's and Maria's relationship... it's simultaneously the only real relationship either feel like they have but also incredibly self-destructive, eventually leading to both of them choosing suicide together.

Again, the dangers of Chessboard thinking are shown here, if they were rational actors with the goal of not getting caught Battler's deduction would be correct... however, Genji and Maria don't care about getting suspected and Kumasawa hasn't realized it isn't a joke and Nanjo has a bomb threat on his head.

This is both very sweet and heartbreaking, but you can see more of Jessica's escapism here. I wouldn't be surprised if under more pressure she would have picked up 'magic' as well.

I think there's a contrasting scene with this on EP2 where Rosa forces Battler to open a door and that's interesting to me in showing the different mentalities between them

Well, more like, it's really fucking hard for Yasu to get herself to kill Maria, and the singing was so she didn't see the gruesome acts.

Well, because she tried to shoot it and the gun was pre=jammed. Also, I can't think of anything that would make Natsuhi run out like that other than the baby throwing being mentioned so it almost certainly has to do with that.

These are probably some of the first big hints at the bomb! Doesn't really make much sense otherwise.

Man, even just this chapter had so much foreshadowing and hidden meaning and I probably didn't scratch the surface because there are many people infinitely more knowledgeable about Umineko than me, I am so excited for the rest of the game.

[bloodycyrano]

Coming Undone, a WIP BG3 fanfic following the events of the game as well as afterwards. I have big plans for future chapters, so stay tuned.

Pairing: Astarion/Durge

Chapter 2/6, "The Pale Elf"

We don't talk about chapter one, it sucks.

Tumblr edition (I edited it further because apparently three weeks of fine tuning wasn't enough and I wanted to change more)

Tags for the entire fic: Cannon-typical violence, Blood and gore, spoilers, slow burn, family drama, nonbinary durge, mentions of past abuse, found family troupe, mentions of homicide, graphic descriptions of homicide, eventual smut, I like to think I'm funny, fluff and angst, gender dysphoria, group shenanigans, Durge is a licensed therapist, character development, loss of limbs, slightly unhinged main character.

Please don't criticize me, I might throw up.

Disclaimer, I do not own the majority of the characters in this fic, nor do I own 80% of the storyline that is to come. Durge does not have the cannon background 100% because the backstory started writing itself before it even occurred to me the actual bhaalspawn logistics. That being said, it does follow 99% of it.

-

When I awoke, I could feel the fresh ocean waves just barely lapping at my feet, causing shivers to roll up my body despite where I laid out on the warm sand, sun beaming bright overhead..

I shielded my gaze, nose wrinkling in discomfort as my already light sensitive eyes were assaulted by the intense rays of late-spring sunshine..

With a sneer, I picked myself up, off of the sandy ground.. analyzing my surroundings for a moment.. Immediately, my gaze was locked on the wreckage of the nautiloid..

Well.. To my knowledge, not many people could say they crashed an alien ship before, let alone survived one.

I could've almost laughed if it not for the gravity of the situation weighing on my narrow shoulders..

I had half expected my memories to return once I had gained my freedom from the mind flayers ship, but the past few years were still an aching void..

If I didn't find a way to get the parasite out of my brain soon, I knew my future would be wiped clean before I even got a chance to recall any faded memories..

Gritting my teeth, I could feel my chipped nails digging into my palms. An eager feeling flourished in my gut, alongside my usual feeling of anxiety. Eager to fight. To regain my identity..

But first, I'd have to look around. Allies, clues.. Shadowheart and Lae'zel. Maybe find a healer who could remove this horrifying parasite.

I didn't know how long I had left before being transformed, and part of me didn't want to find out.. But still. I needed to know my fate.

I turned around, peering at my surroundings with an inquisitive gaze, hoping to find some sort of clue for how to proceed, or sign of immediate danger..

The wreckage of the nautiloid was all around. I suppose I didn't quite realize how big the ship was until that moment. Seeing the massive thing smashed along the grounds, smoke still rolling off of the partially flaming metal and writhing tentacles. It was somewhat intimidating to look at, I had to admit. But amidst the air of caution, there was a feeling of mystery as well that I couldn't ignore.

My anxious and eager feelings vanished as soon as they rose as I set my eyes on the ashy, rocky planes before me. Rubble and smoke clouding the beach.

When I turned, I could see a mangled fisherman up ahead, no doubt a casualty of the crash.

I felt a pull as I approached. A familiar smile tugging at my lips.

It was a warm feeling. One I had felt before.. Though, to my surprise, I felt perhaps I had become more used to this feeling than what I could merely remember a handful of times in my youth.

I felt a sort of yearning I couldn't yet explain as I stared down at the corpse. But in the back of my head, there was another thought that struck like a lingering miasma. The confused stupor I had found myself in was one that ached violently in my skull. I hated not having my memories, and it weighed heavily on me. What of my family? Had I seen them since I left home? Hurt them..?

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed the thought aside. Allowing myself a few more moments of shameless enjoyment as I stood over the bloody cadaver; before moving forward.

A mere few feet away, I could spot Shadowheart, the cleric I had saved on the Mind Flayer ship..

She lay sprawled out on the ash-covered grounds, sand woven between strands of her long, bound, raven hair..

I took a moment to observe.. allowing my gaze to follow over her unconscious form and intricately patterned armor, before settling on her face.

Shadowhearts armor was similar in style to that of many clerics I had seen before, though the patterns etched and woven into the steel were foreign to me.

I wondered, for a moment, what sort of deity granted her divine powers. I had studied many topics in adolescence, including Clerics and the various cloisters surrounding Faerun, but I couldn't remember anything quite like this.

The armor she wore was heavy, and thick. Steel plate layered atop chainmail.

Despite how bulky most heavy armor was, the half elfs garb remained very feminine and almost sleek.

I never quite understood the need for aesthetically pleasing armor. At the end of the day, it was merely to keep you from sustaining fatal damage.

Regardless of my personal thoughts on the matter, however, I couldn't deny that her armor was not only effective, but also had an air of elegance and beauty.. It suited her.

She had sharper features, though they were softened by a sort of youthful naivety. Despite the shitty attitude she had towards Lae'zel on the ship, there was a kindness about her scarred face.

I took a moment longer to assess her for wounds. Unfortunately, if she had been injured in the crash, she would be of very little use to me.

Under closer inspection, I saw she bore no obvious injury. No blood, bruising, nor swelling of any sort.

Quickening my pace, I drew nearer, and could soon hear her sleep-clouded mumbling.. a sort of pleading.

Another thing is that I noticed she still held the metal object from the ship, clutched tightly in her right hand..

My curiosity spiked. I could've taken the item, simply to see what it was while she was incapacitated..

But no. I knew better than that. An ally is an ally, no matter how secretive they may be.

With a stiff and hesitant breath, I reached forward, giving her shoulder a light jostle..

I did my best to be gentle, though I knew my grip could be firm, and perhaps a bit careless at times.

Not like she'd be able to tell through her thick, metal shoulder guards, though.

Jolting awake, she took a deep breath in.. grip tightening on the relic she held as her vibrant green eyes popped open and scanned our surroundings, like sun stricken orbs of glimmering moldavite.

“You're alive,” she remarked, shock evident in her tone. “I'm alive… How is this possible?”

With a faint jingling of her chainmail, she did her best to covertly slip the mystery object into her pack; though her focus was clearly much more settled upon our surprising survival..

I sighed softly, running a hand through my messy and soot-stained hair.. “Doesn't matter,” I shrugged, “We made it. All we can do now is hope our luck doesn't run out.”

Shadowheart let out a faint hum of approval, nodding simply as she looked around..

“True, I suppose.. it seems we are the lucky ones, judging by all the corpses strewn about.” She mused..

“I remember the ship, I remember falling… Then nothing.”

I didn't see the point in retelling the obvious. Instead, I chose to remain task oriented.

“What happened to Lae'zel?” I asked, though reminding myself that the Warrior actually never introduced herself to Shadowheart.. “Our gith friend.”

She furrowed her brow at my clarification, tilting her head a bit as she gazed down at me. “You might want to reconsider calling her a friend-... Looks like she ran off without us.”

I shrugged, “It's not as though we can guarantee her safety. I know little of githyanki culture, but I know of their history with the mind flayers. She's probably terrified, and seeing as we're all infected..-” My voice trailed off as I caught her gaze- I was not typically silenced by a glare, but I knew when to shut up. Usually.

Shadowheart made no effort to hide her vague irritation at my ramblings, though she did not comment on it.

A soft sigh escaped my chest as I rolled my eyes, “Regardless, we should look for her. She may be injured.”

A very faint huff left her lips, though she seemed nearly amused, “You're more concerned for her than she is for you, clearly. We need to take care of ourselves.” She declared, “Firstly, we need supplies. Shelter. Perhaps most importantly, a healer.”

She spoke with determination, a clear view of what was to come next.

“We might have escaped, but we still have these little monsters in our heads.”

For a split second, I paused. My gut twisted with a sort of hesitance. Internally, I could feel myself pulling back. I guess even despite my intentions to keep my assets close, I still somewhat hoped to deal with this whole debacle on my own. “We?” I asked, masking my discomfort with an idle curiosity, “You intend to stay together?”

She simply nodded, gazing back at me with a sort of expectation. “We need each other, and we both know what's at stake. I can't think of better company.” She mused.

I knew she was right. And perhaps her company wouldn't be so awful, despite my general misanthropy.

“Alright,” I nodded, “let's get moving.”

Holding up a delicate hand, she halted me in place, “One thing, just before we go.” She started. Her voice was softer now, though perhaps there was a very very faint underlying tone of a sort of obligation. “I wanted to thank you again. For freeing me.. It would've been all too easy for you to run right past my pod, but you didn't. I'll remember that.”

Her gaze was unwavering, as well as her tone. Voice smooth and genuine. This was no ploy to gain my trust, but true gratitude.

I met it with a very soft smile, and a nod. “Of course,” I said, “Though you need not thank me. I'll admit, I saved you more for my own benefit than yours.”

She let out a faint chuckle at my honesty and nodded.. “Fair enough. Lead the way.”

A sort of relief washed over me. I didn't feel terribly uncomfortable in her presence, which was new for me. Perhaps she didn't make the greatest of first impressions, but I had to give her the benefit of the doubt, considering our mutual situation.

I navigated my way around the rubble.. glaring through the falling ash as I began to loot the bodies around us in search of supplies and anything else that may have been of use.

As I made my way forward, I noticed the water had changed as I strode upstream a bit. Brackish to fresh water.. Surely, we'd find a settlement nearby.

I knelt at the ruined docks, rifling through the backpack that sat at the edge, left most likely by one of the dead fishermen..

Beneath it sat a book. Leather bound, aged pages.. The smell of river water and old paper lingering on its materials..

‘Shanties of the Bitch Queen’

I didn't need to pick it up. It would only weigh me down over time.. But well, it's only one book. What damage could it really do?

I stuffed it into my pack.. Drow don't sleep anyways, unless persuaded by blunt force or impromptu drugging.. I'll need some reading material.

Shadowheart gave me a questioning glance, but she did not bother to ask. Simply following behind me..

I relished in the silence that befell us. It felt much more comfortable than needless prattle.

Continuing forth, I looted the dead bodies in our wake. Upon one, I found a note.. Nothing of interest, truly. And yet I still read it. A love letter, from a woman named Anna. She was asking the fisherman to run away with her..

I nearly gagged at the sugary words left on the folded paper. It was worn, but not old. The fisherman had read it and reread it over and over again, likely swooning or mulling over his options.

It mattered little now, however.

Despite my frank disrespect to the previous corpses, I decided to leave him with his precious note, along with the rest of his belongings.

I wondered if that's what he had been doing, before the crash. Going to meet Anna in Baldur's Gate..

The thoughts did little for me but to keep my mind occupied, away from any boredom or other distractions that may have crept in.

As I made my way around, I found that the only way forward was to go through the Steaming wreckage..

With a grimace, I made my way forward, alert to any threats that may have been.

Almost immediately, I noticed more of those little brain creatures..

Adorable.

I took a step closer, hoping that perhaps Us hopped among them.. But no. My heart sank a bit as I came to the conclusion that perhaps my squishy friend had perished in the wreck..

It wasn't long before the intellect devourers recognized our arrival near the scene, quickly springing to action..

These creatures were, much to my dismay, not allies.

With a grimace, I jumped back.. I had pause, heart beating quicker as I thought carefully about any possible way I could avoid killing the little creatures.

Regardless of how cute I may have seen them, though, I had to succumb to the inevitable as I dashed to avoid their attacks.

Shadowheart let out a strained grunt as she rose her shield to block a blow from one of the creatures, before swinging her mace back upon its soft and tender flesh

“What are you doing?” She snapped, “Hit the damn things!”

Frustration bubbled within my chest, but I knew she had reason to be irritated with me.

Noticing she was being surrounded, I ran forward.. bringing my left leg around, up, and straight down, driving my heel into the squishy brain-like critter.

It let out a loud, high pitched squeal of pain like nails screeching on a chalkboard as my foot managed to practically shred down the center of it.

Internally, I cringed at the sound. But I couldn't let it hold me back.

Without skipping a beat, I picked up the slimy carcass and threw it, full force, at the remaining intellect devourer.

Shadowheart took advantage of the creature's daze, swiftly shooting fire straight at it to finish the job.

She dropped her mace, bringing her hands together for a moment before fully extending them out as she said the incantation.

“Ignis!” She bellowed.

For a moment, her green eyes glowed a deep, purple tone as the flames shot from her palms.

As expected, the slimy creature fell with another ear-cringing squeal.

We took a moment to regain our breath.

I couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into me.

As a child, I was practiced in empty hand combat. But I was never that good at actually hitting my targets. Particularly not with that amount of instinct and accuracy..

I wondered what had come about in the last few years to cause such an improved technique. Even if I didn't remember further training, it seemed that my body did..

‘Holy shit, that was so badass..’ I thought to myself, though doing my best to maintain a cold and unbothered demeanor.

The cleric narrowed her eyes at me, pointed ears twitching slightly in a vague irritation, “Why did you hesitate?” She asked, taking a breath as she, herself, finally calmed her beating heart.

For a moment, I paused. I wondered if she didn't see what I saw, and how she could ask such a question that I felt was so obvious. Still, I turned to look at her, expression deadpanned. “They're cute,” I insisted, “What do you expect? It's like kicking a puppy.”

Shadowheart was.. Taken aback, to say the least. She made no effort to hide her disgust, wrinkling her nose slightly.

“Not exactly what I would call cute, Wren.” She shot back, “Make sure you don't freeze up like that in the future”

I wanted to come up with some snarky retort or snippy comment. But she was right - I mean, not about the creatures not being cute. For that, I think perhaps she may have hit her head harder than initially thought when she fell from the ship.

Still, I can't afford to hesitate like that when we're being attacked. It could cost us our lives, and I needed to be wary of it.

Regardless, my stubbornness got the better of me, with the help of her (warranted) shitty tone.

Thus, like a literal child, I opted to stick my tongue out at her and stick up my middle finger.

I wasn't particularly rude about it, or at least I hoped it didn't come off that way. It was more of a casual ‘Fuck you.’

She rolled her eyes, wordlessly gesturing for us to keep going on our way.

Tensions were high, and we knew that. There was no point in actually fighting over something so small as an attitude problem.

We carried on with little issue, looting the small area before once again finding ourselves in the sand.

If not for the nautiloid crash, or the startling absence of memories in my skull, perhaps the scenery would've been beautiful. But as sour as I felt, I could find no joy in the glimmering of the sunshine on the crisp, blue waters.

We looted a few crates by the waves, and turned to follow the dirt path uphill..

Upon reaching about halfway up the hill, a voice called out.

An elf, up at the top of the incline, with the complexion of a fucking snowman.

“You there! I need help!” He called out.

His tone was urgent, vaguely panic stricken, but controlled.. and just a smidge pretentious, like some twat nobleman.

Letting out a deep sigh from deep within my chest, I jogged up to meet the man.

I was in no particular hurry, but I figured it best to get it over with..

“Very well. What do you want?” I asked, arching a brow as I approached, Shadowheart following at my heel, though a few paces away still..

He stood in a somewhat crouched, defensive stance, peering off into the shrubbery with his hands readied at his sides.

“Hurry,” he urged. “I've got one of those.. brain things cornered.”

I cocked my head.. sure, he looked a bit like a pretty boy, but I saw no reason he couldn't handle one intellect devourer by himself- He was fully armed, for fucks sake. It's not hard.

Still, I pressed forward, attempting to look into the underbrush, where he was pointing.

The area was obscured with weeds and shrubbery.. tall grass, and a few saplings here and there grew thick at the edge of the short cliff.

“There, in the grass.” He said, “You can kill it, can't you? Like you killed the others.”

This alone was enough to give me pause. This meant he had been watching us, and I didn't know for quite how long since our wake.

I chewed softly at the inside of my cheek, deciding to give the man the benefit of the doubt..

After all, I had Shadowheart behind me, should anything happen.

“Easily,” I said, not bothering to keep the wariness from my voice as I stepped forward, towards the thicket of greenery. “Stand back.”

“There,” he pointed, getting a bit closer behind me as he did his best to show me where the creature was. “Can you see it?”

His voice lowered for a moment.. It was softer, almost mesmerizing. I figured he was just trying to be quieter, so not to startle the creature in the foliage.

I was wrong.

As I leaned over the small cliff, in search of the brain he had spoken about. A few seconds passed, and I could hear a faint rustling in the bushes. Perhaps the elf was being honest, after all. But this feeling of relief was short lived as a young wild boar came barreling out of the bushes, taking off in fear of my advance.

The elf closed in.

In a flash, he had his unexpectedly firm and solid arms around me and a dagger at my throat.

My eyes grew wide, and instinctively, I swept his supporting leg out from beneath him.

This, however, did not help the situation.

Even as we collided with the hard, dirt-covered ground, his grip held unrelentingly. Despite my efforts to escape, I found we had been in the same situation, the only difference being that we were just simply struggling about in the moss now.

I let out a stiff and forced grunt as I fought against his surprisingly strong grip and tried my best to force the dagger away from my throat.

“Shh..” he cooed, “Not a sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.”

His words washed over me like pure silk, sending a fluttering feeling in my stomach. It brought a whole new level of discomfort; Almost lulling me into a sense of calm despite my situation.

“And you-” He snapped out, tone becoming somewhat harsh as he turned to glare at Shadowheart, who stood behind us with her hands up in a somewhat defensive position, ready to draw her weapon should it prove necessary.

“Keep your distance,” He remarked. “No need for this to get messy.”

She met him only with a bitter glare, crossing her arms over her plated chest.

“I need them alive.” She stated, her usually soft voice taking on a sort of forceful tone that reminded me of the attitude she had back on the nautiloid. “Stow that blade, or I'll show you just how messy things can get.”

The pale elf gave out a soft yet sarcastic chuckle, turning his full attention back to me, his annoyingly perfect, stark white hair falling just slightly in his face.

“Promises, promises. But I have other business, I'm afraid.” He mused..

His deep, wine red eyes locked on my own, gaze holding a sort of dominance as a triumphant smirk befell his face. “Now, I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod.”

His tone was dark. Commanding. He had me exactly where he wanted me, and it became increasingly obvious that he took a significant measure of pride in it.

My grip tightened around the blade as I tried to force it away from my neck, even still. Allowing it to lightly cut into my skin.. A single drop of my crimson blood trailed down the blade, falling onto my cheek.

I could feel the tips of my pointed ears heating up as he stared down at me, his gaze flickering to the speck of red for a split second- But that mere moment of distraction was all I needed

Despite his effects, I refused to let anyone get the better of me like this. Especially not some pretty boy blue blood with a vitamin D deficiency.

Grinding my teeth, I pushed him as hard as I could while throwing caution to the wind and driving my already aching skull hard against his forehead.

We collided. Hard.

He let out a grunt, putting his hand to his head in pain as we both rolled away from each other.

“Ugh! You wretched little-” His voice came to a higher pitch, a level of almost amusing disgruntlement oozing off of the man in a manner that could've made me laugh if it hadn't been for the pain I was also suffering as consequence of my clever escape.

As he got to his feet, that familiar swirling feeling clouded my brain. The parasite..

In a flash, I was looking through unfamiliar eyes, prowling dark and busy streets.

I did my best to hold the memory, curiosity urging me to see more. But it faded to the worm. The bright lights. The fear that I felt well in my gut, though I knew it was not my own.

The elf felt it, too. Another connection.

He clenched his jaw, sharp eyes widening in a sort of shock and confusion..

“What was that?” He demanded, “What's going on?”

For a second, I wondered if he could see inside my mind as well. I wondered if he could glimpse the same world I saw before being abducted, even if I could not remember it myself. As much as I wanted to know, I pushed it aside. There were more important things to deal with at the moment. Crossing my strong arms over my chest, I glared up at the man, aching a mistrustful brow. “Put the knife away, and I'll tell you everything.”

For a moment, he only broadened his stance, pulling his dagger up so that he was ready to strike, should he need to..

“I'm not an idiot.” He snapped, trying to put it together himself. “It has to be those tentacled monsters. Something they did…”

His voice trailed off, gaze faltering for a moment as he soon saw reason.

“They took you, too. I saw it during.. Whatever just happened,” he admitted, sheathing his blade.

He let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head a bit, “And here I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards,” he mused, gaze analyzing my own battered form for a moment, “Apologies.”

‘I saw it’, was what my brain caught on in the moment. Not only were my suspicions confirmed, but if I asked him, I realized he may be able to give me a clue to my missing past.

Still, as he continued, I couldn't help but to let a wry smile tug at my lips as I peered up at him- I could understand why he took the approach that he did. And even more, I could appreciate his humor.

“Can't blame you,” I said with a shrug, “I was quite looking forward to seeing yours.”

He gave a slightly amused laugh in response, nodding.. “A kindred spirit.. My name's Astarion,” he said, giving the slightest little bow of introduction, “I was in Baldur's Gate when those beasts snatched me.”

“You may call me Wren,” I mirrored, “I uh-.. I actually don't know where I was when I was captured.”

For a moment, he placed his hands on his hips, looking me up and down. “A pleasure,” he assured, “So. Do you know anything about these worms?”

With a grimace, I nodded. “Unfortunately, I do. They'll turn us into mind flayers.”

His brows knit tightly together in almost disbelief at first, eyes widening as it fully sunk in. “Turn us into-.. Ahah..”

His face almost looked mournful. With a bitter chuckle, he continued, briefly pressing his fingers to his temples.. “Of course, it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect..?” He muttered to himself. Before his deep eyes came aglow with what I could only assume was hope, just the slightest, faintest spark..

“Although.. It hasn't happened yet. If we can find an expert, someone that can control these things, there might still be time.”

I remained silent, allowing the man a moment to process before I continued, peering over my shoulder at Shadowheart for a moment, who stood with a very bored expression as she waited for me to finish up; though she still paid close attention to our conversation.

I had made up my mind already as I turned back to him, tilting my head as my gaze wandered over him once more.

“You should travel with me for the duration,” I said, “Our odds are better together. Clearly, you're quick with a blade, so I doubt you'd prove useless on our quest.”

He seemed almost surprised for a moment, though not unpleasantly so. And for half a second, he almost seemed to ponder it.

I took this very brief second to take note of his posture. Body language, demeanor. Though already taller than I, he held his head in a way that he would have to look down his nose at me, while it was not inherently disrespectful. It was thoughtful. Calculated. He was sizing me up, as any rational person would when deciding whether to follow a complete stranger or not.

“You know, I was ready to go this alone,” he mused as he took a small step forward, “But maybe sticking with the herd isn't such a bad idea. And you seem like a useful person to know.” He stated, as though thinking out loud before settling entirely on his answer, “Alright. I accept.” He said, giving a very slight bow of his head in respect. “Lead on.”

As he joined at my side, Shadowheart stepped closer, no longer keeping quite a distance..

My eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than I'd like to admit. And while perhaps a slim part of it was his natural charm and magnetism, I found it joined by much more prominent thoughts. Visions of how he might look covered in blood. How his own might taste on my tongue.. The way I would position his dead body, as though a work of art.

I hid my thoughts well. There was no daze, nor excessive staring, no pause of any sort. I didn't know whether this was because I was naturally inexpressive unless I forced a display of emotion, or because I was simply used to such thoughts by now. Perhaps it was even how I had to train my face in my youth not to give off any ill-accepted emotions, for fear of the yelling that would follow. Whatever the reason, I was certainly thankful for it.

While I would've loved to relish in the thoughts a mere moment longer, I forced it to a screeching halt as I turned to face Astarion.

Before even letting me speak, he arched a brow in surprise, as he was expecting us to simply continue on our way.. He gazed down at me with a somewhat amused smirk, “You have a manner of irresistible desperation about you,” he teased.

I opened my mouth to protest, a look of offense dawning my typically blank face- but he didn't allow me a word before finishing his thought. “I like it.”

With a scoff, my eyes narrowed into a glare as I stared up at him. “I merely wanted to ask a bit about you,” I spat. “Peace of mind, considering you nearly slit my throat.” I reminded him.

“Heh.. And what a shame that would've been.” He remarked, almost sarcastically though his tone remained playful and lighthearted.

Letting out a breath, Astarion turned to a more serious - though bored -demeanor. “Ah.. What's to tell, really? I'm a magistrate back in the city. It's all rather tedious,” he explained with a shrug.

I didn't know how much I believed that, if I'm being honest. I did not know what reason he may have to lie to me, but there was something about the man that just seemed somewhat.. Off to me.

Despite this, I had known my gut to be wrong before. Rarely, though it was. Everything gave me an uneasy feeling - a distrust.

I wrote it off as a natural skepticism, not bothering to pry any deeper.

Still, I nodded; giving the man another cursory glance before joining back beside Shadowheart.

I took note of Astarions blade, and the clothes he wore.. The dagger was sharp, though poor quality, and provided him with little range.. His garb, however, was of a much higher refinement. Thick leather, stitched to uphold the standards of the ostentatious finery one would find in noble households, and dyed luxuriously vibrant purple and fuschia. The velvet accents along the chest were embellished with golden embroidery, though if you looked just close enough; you could tell that the stitching on the design patterns were coming loose and slowly unraveling.

The shirt beneath his leathers had a very refined, ruffled white collar with accents of a striking red- which clashed with the rest of his ensemble.

I would've loved to say it suited him, but it didn't. In all honesty, it seemed to be lacking in perhaps one of the most expected qualities one would find in noble garments.

Style.

Perhaps I was biased, though. I didn't particularly care for such colour pallets, and it did little to compliment the most striking part of his distinguished face; His deep and wine red eyes.

Turning to our cleric, I pulled her aside. “Have you picked up any decent blades?” I asked, kneeling before her as I sat down my pack and began to search through it.

She chuckled, tilting her head a bit as she simply watched. “Not really. You've been quick to disarm nearly every cadaver we've come across thus far.” Her comment bore a sort of amusement, rather than any kind of irritation that her wording may have implied.

I merely nodded, not bothering to look back up at her as my eyes were fixed on the various weaponry I had nicked off of the corpses in question.

“Astarion’s an interesting find,” she mused, “Let's hope any future acquaintances don't hold a blade to your throat by way of introduction.”

I found amusement in her statement, chucking slightly as my eyes finally settled on a single blade. A long and slender rapier.

I hadn't the faintest idea as to how to use the weapon adequately in battle. But I had a feeling the pale elf would..

Peering back up at Shadowheart, I cracked half a crooked smile. “I don't know. That approach certainly makes an impression,” I told her.

She rolled her eyes, laughing quietly as she looked off, into the trees up ahead and the forked path we faced. “Just don't tell him that. I doubt he needs the encouragement.”

“You may be right,” I shrugged, pulling the blade out before latching my black, leather satchel shut once again. I eyed the uneven stitching for a moment, a fond memory rolling over my mind. Perhaps one of the most recent memories I could bring forth, though it happened years ago now.

I could remember my brother teaching me how to stitch thick and sturdy leather, without ruining it.. He was the only one who supported my decision to leave the underdark. I wondered how he was doing. If he remained with my family-.. Of course he did. He'd never abandon them. Not like I did.

I felt a twinge of stale, bitter disappointment in myself. I knew the environment I left them in, and still I did not stay.

It mattered little now, though. They were safer without me there and I knew it. And I had other matters to attend.

I rose to my feet, pushing the clouded memories from my mind as I turned back to Astarion, who watched my exchange with Shadowheart closely, though he could not make out our words.

A smile still dawned his face, though there was caution in his eyes. I couldn't blame him.

“Take this,” I instructed him, holding the rapier by the blade just an inch or so below the guard as I held it out to him.

For just a second, his gaze faltered. Flitting down to the weapon with just slightly widened eyes, before taking the handle.

I released the blade into his grasp, blank eyes looking back into his own as I gave him a nod, “It should aid you better than that old dagger.” I commented. “You can't be useful if you're dead.”

He clicked his tongue quietly against his pointed teeth, smirk broadening slightly as he peered back at me. “Hm.. I do suppose you're right.” He chuckled, maintaining his eye contact. His gaze almost seemed to bore into my own, as though he were staring at my very soul.

A sort of heat rose in my throat, though I chalked it up to the smoke from the nearby wreckage. In spite of this, the air was clear where we stood.

The man had an air of mystery about him, and I doubted his little dagger trick would be the last we saw of it.

[quickdeaths]

The princess was so... optimistic. Shinobu wasn't sure how she could be so cheery and so sure of herself. Being sure of anything seemed like a disaster waiting to happen, some invitation to fate to upend everything and leave nothing behind. And yet, she continued on, characterizing the members of Future Foundation as a bullies and opportunists, suggesting that the world at large would be misguided, if predictable, in seeing the remnants as nothing but villains and monsters. It was admirable, her resolve, and frightening.

Idly, Shinobu wondered if she knew. It would have been impossible, wouldn't it? Unless Novoselic had managed to root out all the spies of despair embedded in the country, and in their interrogations, managed to piece together the fragments of what they'd been told into a comprehensible whole. They doubted it. Their operatives were under strict orders to take their own lives if captured, and at the time of Shinobu's own capture, there were a number of Novosonian agents still awaiting their arrival. Perhaps they'd all been mopped up in the aftermath, but they'd have little useful information, and perhaps would have been disposed of without further inquiry.

She didn't, was the conclusion that the former remnant of despair settled on. If she knew that her country's safety had been guaranteed by a murderer, born out of a selfish, possessive desire, and a concern that riots and chaos would have led to a boring, ignoble death for the princess, Sonia would surely be less comfortable around her, now. Likely, it would have dampened her spirits, as well. Did that mean keeping that knowledge from her was right, or justified? Was it fair to accept her help, knowing that she wouldn't have offered if the entirety of the truth was laid out for her?

"You're giving me too much credit," she mumbled. "I deserve some of it. The mistreatment might go too far at some points-" Her hand went to her neck, still sore, and with skin beginning to peel around the rash where the collar had been. "But it isn't entirely unwarranted. Justice, in so far as it exists, has been built upon the idea that those who hurt others deserve punishment. I understand that no one will want to accept us evading it, and so will wish to enact their own sense of justice." If they didn't wish to be treated in such a manner, perhaps they should of thought of that before plunging the world into wretched, chaotic tragedy.

She gave a weak sigh. "But I've not given up on living entirely, so I suppose there's nothing else for me than to attempt some manner of... something." They'd made enough promises to live, and it would reflect poorly on the princess if she'd managed to free them of their collar and shackles, only for them to immediately run off and die in their newfound freedom. Shinobu Yaguchi had caused enough trouble for others to last a hundred lifetimes - to throw Sonia Nevermind's assistance back in her face now would just be unnecessarily obstinate.

Once they'd both settled into a seat at the hotel, and Shinobu had popped the top of her canned coffee, she considered the question posed to her with a small frown. "I've always had a weak sense of smell and taste," she admitted, "so I don't have many likes or dislikes." That was only partially true, though they'd forgotten some of those things in the years since, so perhaps it was more accurate now than it had been when she'd said it years before. "If I had to pick a fruit, though... Do you know hoshigaki? Japanese-style dried persimmons?" With everything she'd forgotten, it was a surprise to her that she remembered that - trimming the persimmons, peeling the skin, tying them with string from the side of the balcony, and pulling them up every day or two to work them with her hands. Just something else she'd started doing after her mother had left.

"Probably that." "The climate's not good for them, here," came a voice, as Ayaka Sato stepped into the lobby from the kitchen. "It's too humid, even in winter." Her hands were wrapped tight with fresh bandages, and it seemed to Shinobu that the color in her hair was fading even faster than their own, the deep pink stripe spotty and duller than before. "Right," they agreed. "Unfortunately." Ayaka's bandaged hands held a small tray of assorted snacks - rice crackers, low-sugar lemon scones, sliced melon, and a small bowl of shelled peanuts. All things that Shinobu enjoyed well enough, such that it was obviously a tray made with her in mind. She felt guilty, knowing that Ayaka had gone out of her way.

Once the tray had been set down, Ayaka turned her attention to Shinobu, lightly lifting her face and studying it with a concerned expression. "Shinobu," she started, voice quiet as she frowned, "you don't look very good." With a weak shake of her head, Shinobu sat back. "I'm alright. I just-" Her eyes flicked towards Sonia. It was better not to say anything explicit, wasn't it? There was no reason to give her incomplete information, and the full story was entirely off-limits. "I felt a bit ill, earlier, but it was only the heat. Please don't worry about me, Ayaka." The silent glances between them was enough to convey to the other woman that it had been her heart, hopefully.

A moment passed before Ayaka nodded. "Fine." Whatever sharpness might have been in her voice when she was younger had left her, making her sound, to Shinobu's ears, more resigned than anything else. "Just go easy on yourself. Please." "Mm. I will. I promise." Shinobu took a small scone from the tray, taking a gentle bite between sips of her coffee. When Ayaka finally acknowledged Sonia, it was almost as though she were seeing her for the first time, as though she'd barely noticed her at all. "Nevermind-san," she murmured, with the smallest, briefest bow. "Help yourself," she added, motioning to the tray.

Sonia nodded. Shinobu might not have entirely understood, but she at least respected her wishes. "Thank you," She replied, "For your silence on this matter. But regarding others, I admit I am not entirely sure about what transpired between you all during The Tragedy, but if you are able, I think opening up to one another might be a good choice. No matter how much harm you have caused, I wonder if there might be an understanding amongst you all. A circumstance that would keep you all from judging one another, unlike the way the rest of the world does, I am afraid."

Perhaps Novoselic did so less than other places, if just for the fact their borders had successfully kept out the Remnants of Despair. While they'd lost some resources and lives, their infrastructure and way of life remained, mostly, intact: the world regarded them with envy and for many, the desire to immigrate was high. To the point that the immigration offices were inundated with requests for visas: work, marriage, student, or otherwise. People from nations in tatters, looking for a place to rebuild and heal.

But wasn't that what the Remnants were looking for, too? It had been early into her visit to Jabberwock when Sonia had decided that was the case. But that was something they'd do on their own, no amount of Future Foundation interference could speed up the process. "If there is anything I can do to help you with that healing, you know you need only ask." Even if she was the only person who believed in it, she would advocate for them the best she could.

She'd gotten to her feet on her own, something that surprised Sonia: from the intensity of the heat and the little amount of food and water she suspected Shinobu was consuming, she figured the woman would be nearly dead on her feet. Whether it was a personal choice or the Future Foundation was choosing to starve her and the rest of her friends, she wasn't entirely sure. But she was grateful, at least, that Shinobu's spirit seemed reluctant to give up. Maybe she held on, Sonia supposed, in the hope of seeing Anzu make it through. It certainly had nothing to do with Sonia herself: she was a stranger now and if she wasn't, she was someone Shinobu had no more use for in her life.

"From the way I see it, you are the one to doubt or deny a friendship," Sonia insisted. For more reasons than the one she was preoccupied with, in any case. "You have endured something most of us will never fully comprehend, and now that you have returned to reality in full control of your decisions, you have been met with an entire planet of people whom, for the most part, see you as villains beyond redemption and believe Naegi-san's plans are a waste of money and resources. Furthermore, the members of the Future Foundation on this island overall, the people who are supposed to be helping you, leave little room for patience and compassion and choose to abuse and pressure you further."

"I would imagine, then," Sonia continued, her steps slowing to meet Shinobu's pace. She had to remember that Shinobu Yaguchi was not the strong, confident person she once knew, and that included her gait. "That in the face of a world outside of this island that is, frankly, less than sympathetic and the help on this island often being no better than bullies, that someone outside of your former classmates extending friendship would be something to perceive with skepticism and doubt. You were treated abominably by Junko Enoshima, but you are also treated quite poorly by the Future Foundation, too. And you do not deserve any of it."

"And finally-" She added, only hesitating when Shinobu slipped her hand into hers. Sonia had spent her entire tirade offering it but never expected her to actually take advantage of that offer. Now that Shinobu had, Sonia needed a moment to compose herself. And hope they hadn't noticed the way her breath hitched in her throat at the touch of their skin against hers. Callused and broken, particularly from where they'd recently sliced open their thumb, but familiar nonetheless. Sonia exhaled, wishing for a moment that it didn't feel quite so soothing, the way it had so many years ago. "It is not fair to hold our broken friendship against you, when you do not remember anything. I cannot hold reservations against it for that reason. All I hope for you, Yaguchi-san, is that you try the best you can to live a good life, a better life, than what Junko Enoshima decided for you. That might not be the same effort with the same results day after day, but as long as you try? That is all I expect of you. To not give up on yourself."

But even if Shinobu's heart wasn't in it, at least not yet, to keep going, she at least had some words of wisdom for Sonia as they approached the hotel. "So she may be slow to come around, but ingredients...they may work," Sonia nodded, falling silent for a moment before she smiled. "I know! I have brought coffee already but perhaps some fruit that is not native to Jabberwock Island, that might be helpful. I have more strawberries and apples on my ship than I will be able to consume on my own, I wonder if Sato-san might like those! Do you have a favorite, Yaguchi-san?"

A question asked just as they'd entered the air conditioned lobby, Sonia breathing a sigh of relief at the drastic change in temperature and humidity. A small refrigerator was kept on one of the counters in the main dining room, still serving the function it had when the island had been a bustling resort: full of various drinks for guests to take at their leisure. "Look! I think there is some cold, canned coffee and bottles of water available," Sonia gestured. She reached it first, pulling open the door and taking out a can and bottle respectively for Shinobu, and bottles of melon soda and water for herself. "I know work must get done," She beamed, not hesitating to open the soda and take a sip in the middle of her thought. "But this might be my favorite place to be on Jabberwock Island! If only we could stay here forever in this comfort, though I suppose Sato-san is able to all day. I hope she is not too busy!"

[xawkward-ariesx]

It was common knowledge that if anyone was going to know something about Steve, it would be Robin. Unfortunately, she was highly unlikely to share any of it, unless it was in front of Steve with the sole purpose of winding him up. So in that case, the second best port of call for Steve related info was Dustin.

So that was how the quartet had found themselves crammed into Dustin's bedroom querying about the whereabouts of their wayward babysitter. Jonathan had dropped El and Will off at Mike's this morning before work so they now had no ride to the movies. Dustin's mom had been going to take him but there wasn't enough room in her car for the five of them. So it was imperative that they found their babysitter, as loathe as they usually were to refer to Steve as such when he was worrying about them like a mother hen.

Except Dustin had no clue where he was. And he received no response from him on the walkie either. Which wasn't all that surprising, Loch Nora was just out of range most of the time for it to not even be that convenient that Steve had one. But Dustin wasn't deterred. He tried Robin next. The girl grumbled something about being disturbed by Steve's gremlins while she was working before telling that Steve had been heading to Max's last she knew.

This game of walkie telephone was getting tedious according to Mike, who'd huffed no less than 5 times in the last 2 minutes. He was cut off from a sixth by an elbow to the ribs by Will.

Unfortunately, Max wasn't picking up either which was even less surprising because she had no respect for the walkie decorum Party rules and frequently had hers off. Deciding there was nothing else for it, Dustin convinced his mom to give them a ride to Max's, now concerned that something had happened to either one of them. El happily sat squished on the floor by their feet for the ride over. She'd giggled something about being able to feel the road better that didn't entirely make sense to Lucas and Dustin but the others nodded sagely along to.

They couldn't immediately spot Steve's inconspicuous car when they arrived, so Dustin took it upon himself to hammer on Max's door until she answered with a shout.

"What!?"

"We can't find Steve." Dustin blurted in the face of Max's ire.

Max frowned at them as if they'd said something completely ridiculous. Which in hindsight they realised they had when she spoke again.

"He's at Eddie's." She nodded towards the other trailer where they could now just about see Steve's beamer peeking out from behind Eddie's van.

"Ohh." They spoke in unison.

"Yeah 'oh' dumbasses. Why'd you think he was here anyway?"

"Robin said the last she'd heard he was at yours." Dustin frowned in response.

"Yeah, yesterday when he dropped me off. Why did you immediately assume he was missing?"

"Because neither of you would answer your walkies." Mike exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air in aggravation. "We'd thought a demogorgan had gotten you or something."

Max flinched at the reminder of the Upside Down.

"Well sorry to disappoint but I'm fine." Mike mumbled a barely audible 'sorry' as Max grabbed her crutches. "No Upside Down stuff here so let's just go check on Eddie so you guys can stop annoying me."

The short distance between the two trailers was made longer by Max's hobbling due to her broken leg, curtesy of Vecna, even with Lucas and El helping along on either side. They allowed Max to bang on the door with the end of one of her crutches as she leant back against her two helpers, as compensation for riling her. The door eventually opened to reveal a flustered Eddie.

"What? What is it? Is someone dying? Someone better be dying after all that."

"Steve's missing!" Dustin blurted once more in a panic causing the rest of the Party to turn to look at him with matching incredulous expression, because hadn't they just established that everything was probably fine?

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Dustin before stepping back to point at the figure they hadn't noticed behind Eddie.

"You mean that Steve?"

"Oh thank god you're fin- is that a DnD manual?" Dustin started before cutting himself off as he registered the book Steve was hunched over with a frown.

Steve blinked confusedly at the kids for a moment as his brain rebooted.

"Eddie's trying to teach me." He murmured softly before looking back down at the book all the while Eddie smirked smugly and the boys erupted into shouts around him.

"What? Since when do you care about dungeons and dragons?" - Mike.

"I swear you've called it basements and goblins before." - Will.

"You wouldn't let us teach you." - Lucas.

"Why did you go to Eddie? I've been asking you for two years!" That one was Dustin, sounding particularly upset that it almost drowned out Max's exclaim of 'I didn't know you could read.'

Steve looked up from the book again with tired eyes as he regarded the kids.

"Look you guys have tried to explain it to me and I just don't get it. Even Erica tried to teach me, but she was kinda mean about it. I just wanted to understand what you guys are talking about." He paused to shrug before admitting a little bashfully, "I like the way Eddie explains things."

Eddie's grin only grew wider at that.

But Dustin didn't even seem to notice as he shoved past his friends to crouch between Steve and the manual.

"What has he explained so far? Which bit is your favorite? Does this mean you'll play a campaign with us now?"

Steve looked a little overwhelmed by all the questions.

"Easy Henderson, let the man understand the world he's found himself in before we find out if he can survive in it without immunity." Eddie quickly cut Dustin off as he joined the duo.

Steve was now looking some what concerned at the mischievous grin Eddie was throwing his way. He didn't even understand DnD yet let alone know if he liked it. It was actually part of a deal he and Eddie had. Eddie would teach him DnD that he and the kids were so interested in. And in return, Steve was going to teach him about the sports he, Lucas and Wayne were so interested in. It was also just nice to finally have someone who wasn't a genius, it got a little tiring always being left of the big picture sometimes.

"Let's not get a head of ourselves bud." He told Dustin with a tight smile, reaffirming Eddie's words.

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Apocalypse

PART 7

Pairing: Winchester!Reader x Negan (ft. Sam x Dean)

Summary: You manage to put together a plan to escape The Sanctuary with your brothers, but things don't go to plan.

Warnings: Some strong language, possible graphic violence/injuries.

A/N: So this would've been the end of this series but I've decided to keep it going because I'd like to explore the reader's relationship with Sam and Dean better and I'm just having too much fun writing this aha.

Also, if anybody ever has any ideas for another series they might want to see or even just random ideas, please send me an ask because I really like writing things like this. Thanks for reading!

Your heart hammered in your chest as you crept through the dark hallway. Over the past week, you'd been passing notes back and forth with Dean. And now you were on your way to meet him and Sam in one of the empty store rooms.

Although you hadn't expected many people to be around at this time of night, you had to say you were surprised that there wasn't at least a couple of people standing guard anywhere. Maybe Negan finally trusted you. He'd certainly been showing you a little more respect lately.

When you reached the store room, you hesitated outside the door. Something felt off, like this was a little too easy. But if Negan knew what you were up to, he would've stopped you ages ago. He wouldn't be stupid enough to risk leaving it too long.

You tried to push the thought out of your mind, before gently pushing the door open. But when you entered the room, you were immediately regretting your decision to open this door. You should've listened to your doubts, because this was too easy. It was too easy because he let you get this far.

"Hey there." Negan smirked as he stood in the centre of the room, your brothers slumped against the wall with bound wrists. "Going somewhere?"

"Negan, I-" You felt like the breath had been knocked out of you as you stared at him with wide eyes. Negan wasn't the stupid one, you were.

Before you were able to register what was happening, Negan had dragged Sam and Dean up off the floor and you felt a hand wrap around your hair, before you were dragged out of the room.

He roughly forced you all outside into the cold night and then he shoved you to the ground so you were kneeling in front of him. Your brothers were kneeling next to you, and then Negan started pacing back and forth in front of you all.

"Well I will say, you are smart." He grinned, pointing at you. "But you aren't that smart."

"Negan, please-"

"No!" He yelled, lunging toward you with his bat. "You don't talk unless I say so!"

He carried on then, seeming to get more angry by the second. "Now, I know that you know what happens if you cross me. And I never thought you'd be so goddamn stupid, yet here we are."

You fought the urge to plead with him again as he continued pacing in front of you.

"You disobeyed me, so now, you gotta be punished. Now, as much as I'd hate to lose one of my best men, I just can't let this slide. So I'm gonna kill your brothers, and you're gonna watch. And then I'm gonna let you go, with the knowledge that their deaths are on you."

"Negan, please, just...just kill me."

He chuckled. "That's not gonna work though is it. Cuz if I kill you, then I lose two men and a I get a target on my back. So I got no choice but to kill them so that you know what you've done. And I will take great pleasure in your suffering."

"I'm sorry, okay? I-"

"Shut your damn mouth!"

Your whole body was shaking as you knelt there in front of him, helpless as he focused in on your brother now. He was going to kill them and it was all your fault, because you couldn't just suck it up and stay with him.

You felt like you were going to throw up as Negan lifted his bat into the air above Dean's head. This was your fault.

But before he could bring the bat down on Dean, you suddenly found yourself throwing your hands onto the bat mid swing. Your skin burned as you closed your fingers around the weapon, the barbed wire sinking into your flesh.

The pain didn't seem to last long though because when Negan threw you to the ground, your hands just sort of turned numb.

Thankfully, what you had done had given Dean time to untie his wrists, and he launched himself at Negan, knocking him forward.

And whilst Negan was occupied with Dean, you shuffled over to Sam to help him free his wrists.

"(y/n), you're bleeding." He said, his eyes filled with concern as you struggled to pick up a stone to cut his ties.

"It's fine." You assured him, although it wasn't fine as you were beginning to feel the full extent of the pain now. Your fingers were on fire as you tried to keep hold of the stone, blood continuing to spill from the cuts in your hands.

When you finally managed to free Sam, he immediately started examining your hands, and it became evident to him that it was not fine. "Oh my god." He breathed out, gently cradling your hands in his as he looked down at all the blood.

Your attention was brought away from your injuries when you heard a thud behind you. Turning around, you saw Dean on the ground, and Negan was standing over him, an evil smile on his face.

Without thinking, you picked up a large rock from the floor, barely able to keep hold of it as you lifted it up. And you struck Negan on the back of the head, causing a loud crack before he collapsed beside Dean on the ground.

You dropped the blood stained rock as you took in the scene in front of you. Dean was pulling himself up off the ground while Negan lay unconscious.

"Is he dead?" You asked, your voice merely a whisper.

Dean quickly checked if Negan was still breathing and then he picked up his bat, coming to stand over him. "He's not dead yet."

"Wait, you can't kill him."

"Why not? He just tried to kill me."

"Yeah but he's not like a monster."

Dean looked at you then, seemingly offended. "He's a psychopath!"

"Dean, I know he's just tried to do what is probably one of the most awful things a person could possibly do, but he's a person. We don't kill people."

"You're not seriously trying to save him are you?"

"Just...take his bat and let's leave."

Dean sighed before walking towards you. "Fine, but he's gonna come after us."

"Well then let's just make sure we get as far away as possible then."

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