#a few times though and she has been worse than fucking useless

[bitegore]

Hi. I just got some very bad news. Consider reblogging my art or giving me tips on kofi or something, I don't even know.

[senawashere]

We're on this together. (Chapter I)

Bradley Bradshaw × Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Nobody warned you for how hard it is to become a mother,same for Bradley.

TW: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

Tears were streaming down your face,your hands were trembling. Searching for Bradley's number in your contact list has never been this difficult.

Your fingers slid across parts of the screen you didn't want to touch, making your frustration even worse.

The phone line rang at a deafening volume. Once, twice, three times until it goes to voicemail.

His stupid voicemail.

"Hi,its me Bradley. Please drop your message!"

Taking this as a sign, you chose not to try again.

After all, talking to Bradley about it right now would only make him worry for nothing, considering he was busy on deployment and miles away from you. He was about to return this week.

It wasn't something he could solve. Maybe it was but not right now.

Within a few minutes your phone rang. As his name popped up on the screen, a heart emoji next to it and his photo of him grinning stupidly, you felt terrible for doing this to him.

Not only did you let down your own dreams, you were about to let down his too.

You replied, remaining silent. You expected your voice to sound like a lump in your throat.

"Baby, are you there? I couldn't get to the phone in time at first."

You were motionless, your lack of words showed him that. "I'm fine", giving yourself some time, you suddenly started to feel everything you didn't feel until you got home.

"I was at the doctor's today."

"Why are you talking like it's the end of the world? Are you okay?"

Throughout his breathing, it was easy to imagine him even stopping whatever he was doing to pay better attention to you; Not because it wasn't there before. You should have called Penny or someone, they would know how to take care of you.

"Wait, is it about babies? Tell me you're joking," he finished with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You could imagine and hear it perfectly.

In the past, when you received good news, you would pretend that something bad was coming, now it's just another thing you regret doing.

You were selfish for talking to him, he was so far away; You could talk to him about it when he got home.

Talking and doing this and that now would cause him more anxiety than he ever had in his hectic daily tour life. Still, he was the only one you needed.

"No, quite the opposite."

The call suffered a long pause, filled with his deep sighs and persistent tears streaming down his cheeks.

You didn't let a single tear fall until you got home, but did you verbalize it? Putting it into words made things different; it felt more real.

"Fuck," he mumbled, clearly a little out of place.

“I can't have kids, Bradley,” your words were interrupted by the growl you were trying to hold back.

He could tell when you were talking to him that everything hit you at once. Over the years, he was able to recognize even small details.

''I'm the reason we tried and it never worked. I cursed it."

"No, baby," he took a deep breath. "Please don't blame yourself. You know it's not your fault." You ran your fingers desperately through your hair; This is what it must be like to feel useless on the phone. Just what you imagined before you made the call. It was bad to announce this to him. "Are you alone? I can ask someone to check on you. They’ll do that, okay?

“Please,” You didn't want to spend the rest of the day by yourself. Also, even though you didn't want to talk to anyone but Bradley, you knew Penny would understand you better, she knew how to make you feel less bad, it would be nice to be around her. And once she mentioned she went through something like that so maybe she would understand you.

Being alone with your harsh thoughts will not be a good option anyway. "I thought about calling her, but I finally gave up, I didn't know what to do, I still don't. Calling you still doesn't seem like a good idea, but I didn't know what to do."

Your weak voice was killing Bradley. If it made him sad to hear that, he couldn't imagine what it was like for you.

"You did great, baby, this is a tough situation but we're on this journey together. You can ask for anything baby, remember?" He smiled, a muffled smile came over the line; It made you feel a little better.

"We can still have children, you know that."

You wanted to tell him that what works for others may not work for you, that your condition may not be that malleable because your condition is genetic. Still, you didn't know if they were true or not, all your thoughts might just be the result of your momentary frustration, but they might also be true.

You need to talk to Bradley about this, everything that's going on in his mind. You didn't want to do this over the phone anymore.

“We can try,” you sniffled, still avoiding the tears you didn't even know were falling. "We can try." You repeated, trying to convince yourself.

"Talk to me, baby. Try to distract yourself a bit, huh? Please. Do you want me to turn the call off? Maybe you can take a long bath with your favorite bubbles or eat something different. That might help."

Even though it sounded wrong, his desperation to help you was adorable. Talking to him made everything perfect, his voice was soothing, you could hear him talking for hours. Now it was no different.

“I just want to hear your voice,” you said, lying on the cold floor of the main room. It would be nice to sleep. It seemed reasonable to forget the previous hours for a few minutes. "You are busy?"

"Not exactly."

"Then tell me how the mission went."

His voice sounded flatter and softer, you could imagine how uneasy he was even from the phone, it was possible to imagine him striding around the room with the phone in his hand. He talked about the mission details the night before. The contrast of how you described your previous day with what happened at the right moment was painful, happy and suddenly you were breaking it.

Everyone knew that Bradley dreamed of having kids, that kids were running around the house and so were you, you wanted to have kids with him even more but with you he would never have one.

"Can I say something?" You asked, taking a deep breath,cutting through his words. "I love you,I love you so much."

Everything was unfair, you both tried so hard. He, too, had become weak from trying, just like you.

"I love you too, baby. This," you could see him in your mind, pausing and gesturing with his hands, "this won't change anything,okay? I still love you so much as the day i fell in love with you."

"We are on this journey together."

"We are on this journey together.”

—-----

Your body trembled.

A cold hand was wandering around your waist as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling a ridiculous headache fill your vision. Your eyes found Bradley crouched on the ground in front of you, and he looked good compared to you. His eye bags were not purple from the 4 hour sleep he was getting,or his hair wasn't messy after the cold,rainy and windy weather out there.

"What are you doing here?" You frowned. Bradley chuckled as you laid your head down once the headache made you feel like you were going to throw up. He could answer your question but you were flattered, he wouldn't think you noticed he was there because he knew you needed him.

So he ignored it, helping you get up.

"Come on, get up. It's cold on the floor, I'll put you to bed." He tried to get you to stand up for him - he failed; but you shifted your weight onto his body, wrapping your arms around his neck, which he found worriedly cute.

“I need you,” you whispered, drunk and sleepy, burying your face in his coat. Let its scent warm you. He smelled amazing.

It was a relief to hear him say that. He didn't want to get into an argument about how it would affect his job in the near future, as you had fought before for the same reason. "I know my baby." He kissed your hair, hugged your waist, and carried you to your room. “She wants to lay down with me.”

He laid you down on the bed, doing the same as he lay on your side, face up and facing the white ceiling.

They both knew it was necessary to speak, but neither knew who should speak first or what they should speak about.

You ran your fingers over his stomach, placing your palm under his shirt, warming his cold hand with your body. You moved closer to his body, nestling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you.

"Tell me, what's on your mind?" He said without looking directly at you.

"There's a lot", your mere words made his throat dry. “It's weird knowing your body can't do what it's supposed to do, especially when you want it to,” you gasped through sobs, his grip pulling you closer to his chest for comfort. "I'm afraid you'll stay with me and a few years from now you'll realize you made the wrong choice." These words hurt him. It hurt him so much to see you blaming yourself.

He hugged you even tighter and asked you to look at him. "I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm in love with you. That won't change, and it's not your fault. We can try IVF as if it will work, and it's worked for a few people, and we'll have a happy and healthy baby. We have the money for it. If the money I make as a pilot isn't enough, i can even find a part-time job. I can enter just for you, I'm married to you and I love you so much, why should I leave you?"

There were tears in your eyes and you hoped he was right. "What if it doesn't work? If my body miscarries? If we try and never succeed? I don't know if I'm ready to try again-"

Before you finished your sentence, he grabbed your cheek and gave you a messy kiss. He was far from okay, he was desperate, you didn't know how to decipher whether he was trying to silence you or show his emotions. The salty taste of your tears accompanied by the burning in his throat didn't help at all.

You put your hand on his chest and stop him. He was in distress, he probably wanted to stop you with a waterfall of negative thoughts but he didn't know how.

“I don't want to try, I just don't know what to do yet, and it's killing me right now.” You were complaining.

He kissed your forehead and let you lie down.

"We will find a way. It's still new, we can think better or find other ways. Adoption is also a good option, but of course if everything happens at the right time."

You stayed silent for a while, imagining a parallel where Bradley was right and things worked out. Although you were still not convinced by this, you agreed with him. After all, there would be no other way, and you still wanted to have children.

“Adoption sounds good,” you mumbled against his chest. You hadn't thought about it yet, it hadn't even crossed your mind. “There is no risk and there is no way we can go wrong.”

You felt relieved that he was there for you, guiding you to feel better about this.

"You see?" he asked with what looked like a weak smile. "We'll find a way because I don't plan on having kids with anyone but you, so it has to be with you. Whether you like it or not." He joked, drawing a smile from you as he touched your nose with a wet kiss.

It was incredible how he managed to make even the most difficult moments seem lighter.

"Good, because I still want to have your stupid kids.”

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady @lewmagoo and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

REBLOGS,LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE HIGLY APPERICATED🤍🤍🤍

[the-hawthorns-ocs]

Soothsayer Spindle'stare

MY ABSOLUTE FAVE OC EVER! MY SKRUNKLY!!!!

Character Bio:

Kinship: The Hawthorns

Queer (loves wife <3); what's a gender? (agender); it/she

Age: 3 cycles, 11 moons; ~31 Hyrs

Voice Headcanon: Entrapta - She-Ra - And The Princesses of Power (but like if she smoked a pack-o-sigs a day???)

Title meaning: -stare = uhh stares, like a lot, its weird, does it blink???; Soothsayer specific -> this cat can see into your soul and across the vail of death and see what your future holds

Role: Soothsayer

Mother: River'riddle

Father: Monarch Bat'flight

Siblings: Monarch Light'fall

Mate: Worm'soil

Other notable kin: Heir Night (nephew)

Extra Notes: her name was originally Garlicnose but after a series of polls I have decided on Spindle'stare as it's new name! Hooray!

Character Summary:

this ones long bec she's my blorbo, sorry not sorry :P

Soothsayers are born absolute weirdos, that's actually how a Kinship can tell that a cat is probably a Soothsayer. They are all not entirely there, because they walk the line between the living and the dead, this gives them the gift of foresight into the future and the ability to commune with the dead, but it also makes them distant, odd, they act like their minds are often in a whole other plane from regular cats.

In Spindle'stare's case, its just really kooky, an absolute creature. Though she is also very traumatized, which is kinda a given for Soothsayers... but it's even worse for her. As a kit her connection to the Stars was almost entirely cut off, and was instead taken over by the Dark Maw... The Maw wanted control over the Hawthorns, and becoming their future Soothsayer's spiritual source was one of the best ways to do this.

Deep deep down I think that Spindle knows there is something off about her spiritual connection, but she doesn't really process this at all. She pretty much believes that she has a normal connection and is totally talking to the Stars and not the Dark Maw. Sometimes she gets a random breakthrough connection to the Stars and is bombarded by so many messages and warnings from the ancestors she is pretty much unable to process it and just becomes even more confused and overwhelmed, acting even more strange than normal.

As a result of the Dark Maw's hold on Spindle, the Soothsayer has not been able to aid the kinship in ways it should be able to. During Spindle's training and apprenticeship the Kinship went through a horrible illness that killed many many cats, everyone questioned why Spindle was unable to receive prophecies foretelling these deaths, or guiding them to a cure... Spindle was simply helpless and useless in a time what the kinship needed a spiritual guide the most... This event has left the Kinship not all too trusting of Spindle's guidance, and has left Spindle lost and confused as to why the Stars do not with to help her.

Though Spindle seems like an old kooky lady she is actually only around 4 cycles old aka. in her early 30s in human years. Spindle was littermates with Monarch Light'fall, they were extremally close, and Light was often the only one who could keep her stable, in the present, and more herself. Spindle was devastated at Light'fall's death and she fell deeper into the spiritual plane as a result, only Spinde'stare's mate Worm'soil is able to bring Spindle into clarity these days, and it is far more difficult to do so.

Spindle spends much of it's time with her mate Worm'soil, they are one of the few cats who are not creeped out by her, they understand her and love it deeply despite it's strangeness. They were childhood friends, and grew even closer during the era of illness in their youth... both of them bonded over the extreme pressure on them at the time, Spindle with the expectation of life saving prophecies and omens, and Worm with the health of the Kinship as a Healer apprentice.

The two of them are now two fucked up middle aged women(ish) who are just trying to survive their high stress roles in their very problematic kinship... They can often be found hanging out on their lonesome together, with Spindle buried in Worm's fluff <3

[platonicallylovesick]

Let just say, Katsuki's mother is my BIGGEST op

I mean like.. Endeavor too. Obviously the shit he did was WAYYY worse, but at least Shoto had a good role model too, his mom, and so Endeavor didn't completely get to him.

Besides, you're SUPPOSED to take the abuse seriously in Shoto's backstory, Katsuki's abuse gives me the sickening sinking feeling that its supposed to come off as a joke. Maybe it would for people who haven't lived through similar shit. But I just felt angry and a little sick through the whole thing.

cw for the actual abuse being talked about and shown under the cut

First of all, she casually hits him. Its the first thing we see her do. Its HARD, not a light smack at all, and she doesnt even fucking blink. She does it with a smile, she does it while cheerfully talking about how much she wants him out of her house and into a dorm room.

He responds as anyone raised in a volatile household would, and yells back at her. "You hag! Hit me again and I'll kill you!" To which she hits him again, visually and AUDIBLY harder than the last time.

This time she throws in that he was so weak he got caught. Found out where his obsession with being the strongest came from. I actually clocked him for this a long time ago. When I started the show I assumed his father beat him for being "too weak" and "not enough of a man" and that his mother was an alcoholic. Turns out his mother is the physically abusive one that thinks he's too weak, and his father is a pathetic coward of a man, since he mostly just stands by. Obviously he's also being abused, but he's the adult in the situation, its disgusting that he just stands by and lets his child get hit.

What's important to me here though is that he stops fighting back, he leans away from her and puts his arms up defensively. We've literally never seen him actually take any real defensive stance at all any other time in the show. Not when he was being suffocated by the sludge monster in episode one, not a single time when he was fighting All Might, not when he was kidnapped and surrounded by villains. But when his mother hit him and yelled at him, he pulled back.

Then there's this shot, where Kasuki's mother has him by the cheeks and he's trying to get her hands off of him. The father stands by and addresses the teachers instead.

She hits him again, and then holds his head down while turning to tell the teachers that she would be grateful to have him out of the house and in a dorm instead. "People are always fawning over him whether he deserved it or not." Emphasis on the not.

Absolutely disgusting how she demonstrates why he ended up the way he did while blaming it on him getting undeserved praise from his peers. Listen, could this line be referring to how she developed a more physical approach to interacting with him AFTER he developed an explosive personality? I mean I guess its possible, I know of cases where that's happened, where the mother has to get on her unruly son's level. But that's usually because the child learned the behavior from outside influences, like running in bad circles at school, doing drugs, gang activity, ect. That's Not what we see happening here, being told your Quirk is pretty cool by your friends on the playground and being admired by your peers doesn't instill such hatred in a person. Abuse does. Especially since he was a good kid, he didnt just throw his weight around, he stood up for his friends against older kids, we see it in a flashback scene in season 2. He only became angry at Midoriya specifically when he tried to help him up out of the river, which got him so angry because of values INSTILLED IN HIM BY HIS ABUSIVE MOTHER. He internalized the idea that Midoriya thought he was pathetic and useless and weak because he must be if a Qurkless kid thought he needed help. That's not something a 6 year old just assumes, that's something that's already been beat into him by his mother.

This part hit me in the feels. He walks outside for just a few moments to ask All Might what Deku is to him, since he's observed a lot of the direct mentoring All Might's been giving him. For once he doesn't yell or threaten or anything, he's very uncharacteristically quiet. His mother yells at him from inside the house that the police told him not to go wandering off alone, and after a minute he turns to go back inside. "Yeah sure. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. Oh and, thank you." Before getting yelled at again on his way inside. Thanks for coming to have him moved into a dorm, and out of that household.

I didn't really like Bakugo so much before this episode, at least in the beginning I thought he seriously needed to chill out and thought that he was just written like that for the sole purpose of having a loud and explosive bully for Midoriya to rise up against as the main character. I had looked at a few reddit posts that came up for the search "Why is Bakugo like that" and also asked my sister (who frankly turned out to have an awful memory, since her reasoning was that she was pretty sure his father had gone to get milk, so to speak) and nowhere did I find mention of him literally being abused, or even being in a toxic and dysfunctional household. The only deeper meaning for his character that I could find was that he felt pressured to live up to this image of himself that everyone else had, the aforementioned "Everyone thinks my Quirk is cool and that I'm destined to be a hero, so I HAVE to be the strongest and I HAVE to be the coolest, otherwise I'm absolutely nothing." But again, that's not really the full story since we see his mother reinforce the same message with a side of physical abuse. I mostly joked about the "I bet your father beats you and your mother's a drunk" shit before because I really didn't think they'd have actually written it in. Now I highkey feel bad.

Please enjoy this bonus paragraph about how Bakugo being so independent kinda made me think. Now im going to go and lose my mind over more of this show see ya

[sillysillygoofygoose]

MINORS DNI, CONTAINS MATURE THEMES

Han Jisung x Reader

Sub! Han x Dom, Fem! Reader (mommy kink used)

Exes to Lovers

Y/N's POV:

"C'mon!! It will be fun. You don't always have to be so cynical. I know you're still hurt over the breakup, but you have to get back out there at some point!!"

My friend, _____, sat next to me on my bed, tugging my arm basically out of the socket. Some stupid party was happening later tonight, and she just "needs" someone to go with her.

I didn't give her offer a second thought before turning it down.

I've fallen into the same routine since the breakup.

I wake up, get dressed, attend my classes, come home, and sleep. I don't even know when I'd given up on doing my makeup, showering every morning, and eating most meals.

"Y/NNNNNN, Pleeeeaaaaassseeeeeeee!! We can do your makeup and get you all dressed up! You'll feel soooo much better once you're out there! I mean, look at yourself, hun. You've kinda let yourself go..." She trailed off at the end of her sentence, turning me towards a mirror. I stared at my reflection, shrugging my shoulders. I guess she's right.

It has been four months, and mourning hasn't gotten me anywhere but down.

"Ugh, fine. I'll go... just hang out with me, okay? I don't want to be stuck mingling by myself." I really wasn't in the mood.

"Of course!! Let's get you ready!! This is so exciting, I promise we'll have fun!" She smiled brightly and tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder as she over exaggerated her facial expressions and hand movements.

I rolled my eyes as she stood me up, pushing me to the bathroom to shower.

~Time skip~

I knew it. I fucking knew it. This party sucks.

____ ran off within thirty minutes, giggling with some overly mellow, immature dick. And I was stuck, standing awkwardly in my skin tight, tiny, barely-there dress, clutching onto my cup.

I just wanted to go home. It was naive of me to let ____ drive us here, I wasn't going home until she was. I made my way through the small crowd gathered in this unknown person's living room. I ventured my way into the small kitchen, digging through a small collection of alcohol. 

"Woah." I hear a soft voice from behind me. Not just any voice, though. It was so... familiar. I turned the top half of my body towards the sweet sound. My lips parted slightly in shock, my heart beat speeding up by the second.

Jisung.

When I thought this night couldn't get any worse, my ex boyfriend was standing in front of me, with his hands uncomfortably dangling at his sides.

Han cleared his throat, opening and closing his hands into fists, panicked. 

"Um hey. How have you been?" His voiced slightly quivered with every word he threw out.

I turned my head, refocusing on the alcohol, scoffing.

"Really good, actually. I'm sure you'd say the same." I lied, condescending tone visible in my firm voice.

"Oh, yeah. I've been alright." He almost whispered back, shrugging his shoulders.  He was never a good liar, especially in contrast to my secure manner. I hummed in response, not caring about his small fib.

"You look really pretty tonight." His round, sparkly eyes scanned up and down my body as I turned back around. My black dress stopped right after my round ass, my hourglass form standing out. ____ practically forced heels onto my feet earlier, making me a few inches taller than usual. My dark lips quirked up into a small smirk.

"I know." I responded, watching as he blushed. I laughed lightly, forgetting the alcohol and walking closer to him. I began engaging with him in useless small talk, almost greatful that I wasn't standing alone anymore. Slowly, conversation faded out and we locked eyes.

I heard his breath speed up slightly.

"Look, I'm- fuck, baby I'm really sorry. I miss you. A lot. I really do. I made a mistake." Jisung mumbled out after almost twenty minutes of back and forth talking. I sighed at his confession. Half of me want to smile, and spill my guts about how much I've missed him too. The other half of me wanted to go ape-shit and cry, furious that this was going to take me ten steps back in my "healing process".

I thought hard before speaking again. Eventually I quickly spat out, "God, don't even say that.".

However, I refused to break eye contact, not backing down or shying away from the sudden switch in conversation.

"No, I mean it. Please, give me another chance. I'll do anything you want me to. I just need you again." His voice became more and more quiet as he rambled on. I could've sworn he was tipsy, or even drunk, but he didn't look it.

"What's wrong with you? Are you drunk or something?" Maybe he was just fucking around with me...

Jisung's POV:

My heart was pumping out of my chest, I could hear the continuous beat in my ears. She just looks so... unbelievable tonight. Drop dead gorgeous.

I thought back to our final night together. The screaming. The cursing. The tears.

The theatrics were unreasonable for the small issue that caused the fight in the first place.

I just can't believe that was how I lost her.

"No, I'm not drunk. Listen, maybe it was stupid to say... I'm sorry, I should really go." The tension closed in on me as I quickly turned around and attempted to excuse myself. I felt nails dig into my upper arm and whip me back around.

"Anything?"

"Huh?" I felt my palms become sweaty.

"You said you'd do anything... right, Jisung? To prove you'll be a good boy again?"

She pulled me close to her, our noses touching.

I instinctively grabbed her hips, wanting, no, needing to feel her.

"Anything. Anything you want." I confirmed. Famous. Last. Words.

Y/N's POV :

I grabbed Jisung's hand and pulled him through the full living area. Why am I doing this to myself? It will be impossible to let him go after re-igniting the flame that previously burnt out. Ugh, whatever. I could make him do so, so much... fuck, I just wanted to use him. Nothing more... right?

I let go of his hand while I trudged up the staircase, feeling his presence trailing close behind my body like a lost little puppy. Once I got upstairs I opened and closed multiple doors before eventually finding an empty bedroom.

I pulled him inside the room, immediately pushing him against the door, slamming it close.

In less than a second, my lips were on his. The kiss was anything but gentle. I trailed my hand up to his neck squeezing softly, applying more and more pressure as I pinned him to the hard surface behind him. His breath hitched, his chest dramatically rising and falling against mine.

I broke the kiss, keeping my hand wrapped tight around his throat.

"Fucking strip. Quickly, I don't have all night." I demanded, using my grip on his neck to throw his shaking body to the floor.

He fell at my feet, head hanging. "Yes ma'am." He complied, frantically pulling off his shirt and rushing to unzip his pants.

Once he was fully bare, he looked up at me, waiting for his next command.

"Good boy. Stand up, come on. Be good for me." I curled my fingers around the bottom of my dress as he stood, lifting up the fabric, teasing him by exposing my thong. I pulled the tight dress off of my body, leaving my stiletto heals on.

"Hurry up, get on the bed for me, baby." Jisung scurried for the bed, laying down, propping his upper body up on his elbows as he waited for my next move. How pathetic. I smiled, taking my time as I made my way for the bed, slipping of my soaked panties.

I straddle his upper thighs, looking down at his rose-colored face.

"You've wanted this haven't you? You've been thinking about this?" I teased him, rubbing my hands along his sides and hips, tracing his v-line.

He shuddered against my touch, and I felt his dick lurch up under me, desperate for any sort of attention.

I smirked and grabbed his dick, wasting no time as I began slowly jerking him off. Painfully slowly. He immediately began whining, pushing his hips up to gain more friction. I leaned over and slapped him across the face.

"No. You don't get to feel good. Not yet. Take it like the little slut you are until I decide you deserve more."

He cried out as his tip began to leak with precum.

"Please, please, Mommy. I need to feel you so bad, please let me fuck you." Jisung begged, gripping onto the sheets next to him.

I ignored him and sped up slightly, amused as his back arched off the soft mattress under him. I began kissing and biting down his neck, marking my territory with bright red blotches.

"What a fucking whore. Look at you. Practically screaming from a hand job? How embarrassing, puppy." He let out a deep moan, simply from my words. I guess he really did miss me.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum mommy. Please let me cum. You make me feel so good mommy, thank you. Fuck~. " He jumbled his words together, and I felt the muscles in his strong legs tense under me. Moans turned to breathless, shallow whimpers right before I let go of him all together.

"Fuck, I was so close mommy." Jisung complained. Tears began prickling in his eyes.

"Aww, baby. I thought you wanted to fuck me?"

He immediately perked up, solemn demeanor gone.

"Really? You'll let me fuck you?". I silently confirmed moving off of him, and let him move on top of me.

"Go ahead baby, fuck me good. Show me how much you missed me, how much of a good boy you are."

That's all he needed.

I instantly felt the stretch of his dick completely filling me up. His arms wrapped around my waist and he rested his head on my chest. Wasting no time, he began thrusting his hips into mine at a rapid pace. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, moaning out. God, I missed the feeling of him inside me. I gripped onto his hair and he rammed into my G-spot.

"Fuck, baby boy... Ah Ji- so fucking good. Keep going, fill me up with your cum." I felt his hold on me tighten, almost like I was going to evaporate or disappear out of his arms.

"Mommmyy, I missed you. I missed your pussy. I need you. Fucking need you."

Water droplets soaked into the skin of my chest. I lifted his head up, his eyes meeting mine. His face was red, eyes were puffy, and tears ran down the soft skin.

My heart dropped as I held his face in my hands, wiping his tears.

"Shh Jisung, baby, it's okay. I'm here. Just feel good for me, okay? You're being such a good boy. Fuck your cum into me, just for mommy."

I held onto him tight as his whole body shook. I felt his warm cum pump out of him as he moaned, shoving his face into my shoulder.

I reached my climax almost immediately after, cradling him as he collapsed on top of me.

We calm down, our breathing evening back out and syncing together.

He was the first to speak.

"Come home with me... please?" Jisung moved off of me, laying next to my tired body.

I thought for a second before eventually agreeing.

We stood up, knees buckling as we dressed each other.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 43: A Plan

I've believed in my own lies so strongly I made them come true. I promise that this time I rant much less about the Seanchan. I also promise that this chapter doesn't actually spoil all that much, but it's still spoils a few things for this book and the later The Wheel of Time series as a whole so you shouldn't keep reading unless you're ready for that.

This chapter has the a'dam bracelet as it's all about the plan to get Egwene away from captivity.

Feeling worse than useless, she picked up her skirts and ran, and Egwene’s screams pursued her. She could not make herself stay, and leaving made her feel a coward.

Shame you didn't kill Renna BEFORE she put the bracelet back on!

Nah I'm just messing Min. Shit sucks. This is a terrible way to get a POV section.

She was not accustomed to weeping openly, but then she was not accustomed to feeling so helpless, so useless.

Sadly, Min never does internalize the notion that she may have been a medium fish in Baerlon but that she's krill compared to the world's big players. Even more sadly, the fact that she is comparatively useless as a combatant never stops being relevant in her life. She shoulda pulled a Ty Lee and invented a knife style that just fucks up channelers or something.

“That color becomes you,” Nynaeve continued. “You should have taken up dresses long since. Though I’ve thought of breeches myself since I saw them on you.”

Nynaeve is pretty conservative at times but it's sweet that she's thought about how she has the option to wear pants thanks to Min.

Min hesitated a fraction before saying, “She’s as well as can be expected.” Min could see it all too well, if she told them what was happening to Egwene right that moment. Nynaeve was as likely as not to go storming back in an attempt to stop it.

And she's not even using her seeing powers to predict this future!

‘Give me a damane of my own on my deck,’ he says, ‘and I will sail this instant.’

Domon really does seem to be an incredibly adaptive man and a quick thinker. It's a shame he always stayed pretty background; I wonder what he might have pulled off if he'd had a chance.

“I wish Rand were here.” Elayne sighed, and when they both looked at her, she blushed and quickly added, “Well, he does have a sword. I wish we had somebody with a sword. Ten of them. A hundred.”

Keep it in your dress, Elayne. The adults are talking.

She touched her chest absently, as if feeling something through her coat.

KEEP IT IN YOUR DRESS, NYNAEVE. Good lord how is Min being the reasonable one about boys right now?

I hope one of you can think of something I haven’t; I’ve wracked my brains, and I always stumble when it comes to the a’dam, the leash and collar. Sul’dam don’t like anyone watching too closely when they open them.

General protectiveness of their ability to hold slaves, or furtive, subconscious acknowledgment of the fact that should destroy an empire?

A man’s ring of heavy gold floated above Nynaeve’s head, and above Elayne’s, a red-hot iron and an axe.

Well Nynaeve already has the ring so that's a terrible future vision, and this particular prophecy actually doesn't come true for Elayne because it relates to a cut version of how Rand loses his hand. Let's say it's got something to do with Manetheren and Perrin I guess. Or maybe it's a Fourth Age thing.

Many people had fled here from villages further from the coast. Min saw no point to it—they had leaped from the possibility of a visit from the Seanchan to the certainty of Seanchan all around them—but she had heard what the Seanchan did when they first came to a village, and she could not blame the villagers too much for fearing another appearance.

Safety in numbers and staying inside the region the Seanchan aren't likely to wage war against any time soon.

The inn had been hastily renamed The Three Plum Blossoms, but part of the word “Watcher” still showed through the slapdash paint work on the sign.

Betcha anything that three plum blossoms are an auspicious omen in Seanchan culture and that the innkeeper is already currying some favor.

“It’s all right,” Min told her, taking a place on the end of one of the benches at the table. “He only looks and sounds like a bear.” Elayne sat down on the other end, looking doubtful.

Min is of course pretty used to all sorts from her own inn days, and anyway if there's any omens around Domon they're likely ones that suggest decentness.

I did think I could spin a tale or two and be on my way, but now I think when I no entertain him any longer, it be an even wager whether he do let me go or have my head cut off.

I think Domon probably would be enslaved instead but yeah not a good outcome in any case.

Two gold rings hung on the cord. Min gasped when she saw one—it was the heavy man’s ring she had seen when she read Nynaeve in the street—but she knew it was the other, slighter and made for a woman’s slender finger, that made Domon’s eyes bulge. A serpent biting its own tail.

I told you your prophecy was dumb, Min.

But also damn Nynaeve is reckless and this Aes Sedai impersonation business is going to get so out of hand. Real Aes Sedai lie there though, where she tells him he knows what it means instead of the truth that she's earned the ring but isn't Aes Sedai.

Six damane they did put around her, stepping out of the alleys of a sudden. I did think she would . . . do something—you know what I mean—but. . . . I know nothing of these things. One moment she did look as if she would destroy them all, then a look of horror did come on her face, and she did scream.

Frankly I suspect they were overdoing it with six; the Seanchan have more powerful channelers on average, after all. I wonder if they've noticed it yet.

“Egwene said they have two prisoners,” Min said slowly. “Ryma, a Yellow, and she didn’t know who the other is.” Nynaeve gave her a sharp look, and she fell silent, blushing. From the look on Domon’s face, it had not furthered their cause any to tell him the Seanchan held two Aes Sedai, not just one.

I'm a little surprised Min is naive enough to mention this. You'd think with her life experiences she'd be much more guarded about what information she's willing to share, and with whom.

“With some people,” she said, “you have to be certain. If you show them one glimmer of doubt, they’ll sweep you off in some direction you don’t want to go. Light, but I was afraid he was going to say no. Come, we have plans yet to make. There are still one or two small problems to work out.”

Nynaeve is an icon and we will close out this chapter with a moment of respect for her.

[astartothemoon]

Blue Memories // E.M.

Summary: Eddie and Reader are strangers turned friends turned lovers turned exes. We follow them on one really tense car ride and experience the ups and downs of their relationship through the songs playing on the radio.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female Reader

Trigger Warning: Swearing. Mention of alcohol. Mention of food. Mention of drugs.

Wordcount: 10k + (It’s a big boy)

A/N:  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

Icicles hang from the eaves of the building like tiny cold daggers. A safety hazard for stressed-out Christmas shoppers. 

A group of carolers stands a little off to the side, just far enough not to trigger the automatic doors but close enough to make sure none of the shoppers can ignore their incessant crooning. 

It’s unfair, really. For her to judge them on their singing. They really aren’t all that bad and, on another day, she maybe would’ve even dropped a dollar or two into the red box saying “donations”. Today is not another day though. Today is today and today is very bad, no good, horrible, terrible, all kinds of shitty.

There are arguably worse places to be stuck with a non-working car than a Walmart parking lot an hour outside of Hawkins. That being said, there are also way better places.

Old Sally has been Old Sally before she was (Y/N)’s and though she has never been the most reliable car to begin with, she always pulled through in the end. Judging by the sounds she made just a few minutes ago when (Y/N) tried to start her, this might actually be The End. Full stop. Capital E. The one where there is no coming back from.

So what do you do when you’re stuck on your way home for the holidays? You call your family. You call mom, calm her down, convince her of the fact that you are okay and not dying and then you make her send dad to come get you. And it should work, right? In theory. 

Only not today on this very bad, no good, horrible, terrible all kinds of shitty day.

Because dad has a broken leg from when he slipped on the ice so he can’t drive and mom already had a few eggnogs too many after her holiday party with the ladies from the salon.

“We can send someone else, hun. The Millers’ son is back in town, I’m sure he’d love to give you a ride.” 

(Y/N) scoffed at her mother’s words. Kyle Miller had always been a fucking creep, lusting after her even back in high school. So she assured her mother she’d find another way home and told her not to worry. 

And now it’s not her mother worrying. It’s her.

That’s what you get for stopping because you craved some flaming hot Cheetos, you dumbass.

She could walk, sure but what about her luggage? And what about the absolutely horrifying fact that she is a woman, it’s cold as fuck outside and about to get dark? 

The movies teach us a lot of valuable life lessons. One of them — the most important one maybe — is to never say “it can’t get worse”. Because it will get worse. So much worse.

What the movies don’t tell you, is that even as much as thinking about it has the same effect. Because as soon as the thought crosses (Y/N)’s mind, it gets worse.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.” 

(Y/N) wants to stab her fingers into her ears, all the way to her brain if possible. The caroller has a beautiful voice. A voice made to sing this melancholic Christmas classic. Again it’s not her fault that it pushes (Y/N) even closer to a breakdown. Only this time it’s not because of her current predicament. This song rips open wounds far older. Far deeper. Far more painful than anything life can possibly throw her way today.

Christmas lights paint the outside of Hawkins High in a kaleidoscope of bright colors as the soft fall of snow dusts the streets in a blanket looking like sweet powdered sugar.

The music coming from the inside floods out of the gym halls and reaches all the way to where Eddie’s van is parked at the edge of the parking lot. 

The icy cold nips at their noses as Eddie and (Y/N) sit in the back of the car, feet dangling above the ground and the smell of weed wafting through the air. 

“You’re a liar!” 

“No, I’m not!” 

“Eddie, you can’t be serious. Grandma got run over by a reindeer is nobody’s favorite Christmas song! “ 

His dopey smile sends little shivers down her spine. It always does. If there was a price to win for having the best smile, Eddie would always win. At least in her eyes. His smile is phenomenal. It’s breathtaking. It’s perfect. Sure, maybe it’s her loved-up, 16-year-old self talking who is completely, utterly, and unlucky in love with her best friend. But (Y/N) thinks of herself as a rather rational person and she’s almost sure it’s a widely known and accepted fact that Eddie Munson has the world’s best smile. People would have to be insane not to agree.

“Well, it’s mine.” 

A frustrated huff falls from (Y/N)’s lips as she lets herself fall backward into the nest of blankets spread out behind them only for Eddie to follow suit just a second later.

“I can’t believe my best friend has the worst taste in Christmas music.”

“Hey, you are the one whose favorite Christmas candy are fucking candy canes.” 

Their laughter echoes through the air like a song. One of hope and happiness and magic. This is what Christmas should always feel like, (Y/N) thinks. Easy and joyful and soft. 

No stress and no fighting. No rush to be anywhere or do anything. Just here. Just this. 

Her and Eddie and the snow and the sparkling lights. And some pretty good weed.

“Okay, okay next question. Ummm — what’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever been given?”

You — she thinks. The words tickle her at the tip of her tongue, ready to slip out. She can just barely swallow them back down. Really, it’s not something you tell your best friend. Even if it’s true. He came into her life during the Christmas season and he’s been the best thing to ever happen to her.

“My record player, probably.”

“Good answer.”

It’s silly — she’s well aware, how much Eddie’s approval means to her.

“What’s yours?”

“Nuh-uh. Can’t ask the same thing!” 

Rolling her eyes at his antics she tries to come up with a different question.

“Okay then, what’s your favorite Christmas memory?” 

Eddie considers his words for a moment, carefully crafting a response as if all the world’s fate depends on his reply.

“When I was a kid and had just moved into Wayne’s trailer permanently, that was the first proper Christmas I ever celebrated. It’s not like we had much or anything but it was a lot for a kid who never had anything. Wayne cut down a tree but we couldn’t fit it in the trailer so we put it up outside. Ate Chinese takeout and watched White Christmas — and I got a present.”

“What did you get?”

“A guitar.”

“Did you get Wayne something?”

“Mmmh a mug.”

Her heart fills with delight and love as he tells the story. Eddie rarely talks about his early childhood. Sometimes it feels like Eddie before Wayne never existed. And though both would never admit it, they love each other dearly. They don’t say it out loud but you can see it in so many things, including all the mugs proudly on display, hanging from hooks in the living room area of the trailer. Dozens of “thank yous” and “I love yous” captured in porcelain.

“ Have yourself a merry little Christmas — “ 

“ I love this song!” 

“You do?”

“Mm-hm” 

Eddie glances at her from the corner of his eyes then looks back towards the roof of the van. There’s a shyness about him suddenly, one she has seen so very rarely. Eddie isn't shy. He's loud and confident even if half of it is just for show. Overdramatic and dialed up to 11. He's not usually like this.

"Do you um — do you wanna dance?"

"Huh?"

"Do you wanna dance?" 

His voice is clearer now, stronger, more assured. It took a moment for Eddie to hype himself up. Get the confidence to ask the question, not really knowing which outcome he is expecting, which ones he's hoping for.

"Do YOU want to dance, Eddie?"

He lifts himself off of the van and stands before her all lanky arms and wild curly hair. He's wearing a black button-down that he swears he borrowed from Wayne. (Y/N) doesn't buy it though, the shirt looks crisp and clean. Still the blackest of blacks that only lives through maybe 5 machine washes before it dulls to a dark gray.

"Figured it's Hawkins High winter formal. Might as well do what's expected of us. And you like this song so —"

Not wasting another second on hesitating, (Y/N) takes a hold of Eddie’s outstretched hand and lets him twirl her into his arms. His hands are just as cold as hers, ice against ice. And yet she wouldn’t change anything about this situation for anything in the world. If feeling delusionally happy comes with a few sacrifices, like freezing, she’ll happily take the risk.

“Eddie, since when do you dance?”

He shrugs his shoulders “There’s a lot of things I’d do to make you smile.” 

The cold melts away to make room for something else. A warmth that overtakes her, flesh and mind and everything. A warmth from the inside. All consuming. Magical. 

And as they sway to Frank Sinatra’s voice softly carried by the wind, the warmth doesn’t go away. It wraps them in a blanket, shielding them from the outside world. It’s a moment you want to keep forever. One of those where even right then, as it happens, you know it is so much more than a moment. It is forever a part of your story. A part of you. 

Eddie lets go of her hands for a second and bends down before reaching his arm out up above their heads. 

“Oh, would you look at that, a mistletoe.” 

“Eds, that’s not a mistletoe.”

“Yes, it is!” he insists, that signature Eddie Munson smirk on his lips that lets you know that he is well aware that he’s wrong but there’s no way he’ll admit to it. He is committed to being wrong and to making you agree.

“It’s a pine branch. I literally saw you pick it up.” 

Eddie takes a deep breath, the air turning into clouds against the cold winter winds, as soon as it leaves his lungs. 

“Look, humor me here. Let’s just pretend this is a mistletoe and we’re holding up a tradition. It’s soooo much easier than admitting that I am head over heels, absolutely dumbass in love with you and I might go crazy if I don’t shoot my shot and kiss you at least once. Okay? If we pretend it’s all fun and games then it won’t be so brutal when you end up rejecting me. Okay? Cool!” 

For a second she wants to scoff, tell him to stop joking, to stop playing her for a fool. But there is a sincerity in his eyes she can’t deny. A flicker of something that has always been there but she could never really put a name to. He’s not joking. Not even a little.

“ Okay, sure. Let’s pretend it’s a mistletoe. Cause otherwise I’d have to admit that I am also disgustingly in love with you. “ 

He smiles at her again, that big smile that makes her knees feel like jello. The one that could win all the prizes. Only this time it’s hers. This one smile and this one moment belong to her. To them.

“ Guess we’ll have to stick to the tradition then, huh? “

“ Guess so.” 

… and have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

It’s a cold kiss. Lips chapped from the winter winds and cold fingers grasping even colder faces. It’s hungry and soft. It’s desperate and slow. It’s all a kiss can and should be and more. It’s a hundred little moments wrapped in a perfectly imperfect kiss.

“I think —” Eddie says as he pulls away just far enough to speak. “I think this is my new favorite Christmas memory.” 

A flurry of snow starts descending from the sky, gloomy gray clouds pushing away all of the blue. Icy snowflakes gather on (Y/N)’s hat, her hair, her nose — shaking her from her daydream. Enough trips down memory lane. They always seem fun and harmless until you take a wrong turn, drive down a backroad and end up crashing the car and watch it all burn.

“Well fuck.” 

It’s bad enough being stuck at a Walmart parking lot, it’s worse when the sky glowers at you, threatening you with the potential of a snowstorm.

“C’mon Sally, why’d you have to do this to me today? It’s Christmas time, don’t you have a heart?” 

In place of a response, the old car lets off another puff of smoke from its popped hood. 

“That sounds like a no to me!” 

A stinging sensation spreads from her heart all the way to the tips of her fingers. His voice still sounds the same as it did 4 years ago. Really, it was stupid to expect anything else. 4 years seem like a lifetime but in reality, they are but a blink. 

She doesn’t dare turn around as if standing there unmoving might make him go away. Like a predator walking on, bored by its prey. Only Eddie is no predator. He never was. Though all the town seemed to think differently, he was always a lover and never a fighter. 

“You can say hi, you know.” 

If life was a movie, this would be the slow-motion scene. The turning around looking at the ex, angel choir singing in the background, love instantly rushing back in. 

Only love can only rush back if it ever left in the first place. Not if it was pushed in a metaphorical box, then shoved to the back of a dark metaphorical closet. 

Facing him is scary. It’s also inevitable. Things are so shit today, it really can’t get worse. There’s no way.

He looks hot. And maybe that makes things a bit worse, actually. He’s still got the unruly curls and he’s still tall and lanky but the awkwardness of an 18-year-old has worn off and he looks more like the man he is than the boy he used to be. 

“Hi, Eddie.” 

“Hey (Y/N). You look good — but Sally. I don’t know about her.”

The fact that he talks to her so casually, both enrages and amuses her. Maybe 4 years really are only a blink but that doesn’t mean nothing ever changes. 

“Thanks um — you too. Yeah, she started making weird sounds and then the smoke started and ugh. You think you can take a look?” 

He grants her a smile and she wants to jump in front of a moving vehicle as the flutters in her heart start. It’s ridiculous that he still has this effect on her. Not after everything. Not after that night 4 years ago.

“I can but I can already tell you’re not driving her anywhere tonight and it’s about to start snowing real fucking heavy. Do you — do you want me to give you a ride home? Your parents’ place I mean. I assume that’s where you’re headed? “ 

“Hmm, yup. Uh — you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, I want to.” 

She wants to punch him. Not in the face but maybe on the arm or something. Hurt him but not really really hurt him. For being so nonchalant. Casual. For being so nice when he had none of that to give that one night 4 years ago and all the months after, right until the day she left for college. Does he think this absolves him? It doesn’t. There is no redemption for breaking her heart, no matter how many good deeds. 

But what is the alternative? 

With a look at the sky and the looming darkness, (Y/N) lets out a sigh and grabs her luggage from the car. Eddie’s old rusty van is parked right next to her. It holds so many memories, none of which she wants to revisit.

“Christmas, The snow's coming down … “ 

The choir launches into their next song and a smile takes over Eddie’s face. A smile (Y/N) hasn’t seen in a long time. One that doesn’t have an effect on her at all whatsoever. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, no reason. It really doesn’t matter.”

Eddie likes Gareth’s house. Not just for the fact that the garage is big enough for them to practice in and his parents are nice enough to allow them to do so. It’s a nice place in general. It’s not big or flashy or anything but it’s homey and nice. For a kid growing up in a trailer park, it’s a palace. Not that he doesn’t appreciate what he has, he does. But it’s nice to dream. To imagine himself in a place like this one day, family included.

Walking up the driveway, guitar slung on his back, the icy ground crunches beneath his heavy boots. The garage door is closed so the boys must not have started practicing yet. Sometimes, when she’s home, Gareth’s mom makes them snacks or hot chocolate and they all sit around and pig out before playing some music. It’s nice of her to care for the boys even if they aren’t her kids. It gives him a little glimpse of what it must be like to have a mother.

“They're singing "Deck The Halls"

But it's not like Christmas at all

'Cause I remember when you were here

And all the fun we had last year” 

A loud voice catches his attention, belting out the Darlene Love song. His eyes scan the neighborhood before settling on the source of the commotion.

The girl stands on a ladder leaning against the house across the street from Gareth’s. A garland of multicolored lights adorns the roof as she regards her work with pride. Her voice still rings through the neighborhood and it has Eddie in a chokehold.

A siren calling out to a sailor, enchanting him, bewitching him. It’s not that her singing is particularly good, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Yet something about it has Eddie mesmerized. 

It doesn’t seem to bother her what people might think, she’s having a good time and that’s all she cares about. It’s nice, he thinks, to see someone not desperately trying to stick to society’s preconceived notions of what is considered cool. This girl is wearing a big woolen sweater and a hat that seems like someone handmade it and ran out of yarn halfway through so they had to continue with another color. By all means, this girl is not cool. Eddie thinks she might be the coolest person he’s ever seen.

And she’s dancing, shaking her hips to the beat of the song she’s singing. While standing on a ladder. Oh god, she’s dancing — on the ladder.

Life shifts into slow motion. He can almost see it happening before it does. One dance move a little too enthusiastic. A slip. A tumble. A thud as she hits the ground. It happens so slowly and too fast for him to intervene all at the same time. Though as soon as she hits the ground, Eddie shakes out of his mesmerized state and rushes over. 

She’s looking up at the sky with a face scrunched in pain and what he can only assume is embarrassment. Her back is flat against the cold snowy ground.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

The girl slowly pries open one eye and glances at him in confusion. “Are you an angel?”

“Uh no — I’m just Eddie. I’m a friend of Gareth’s. He lives across the street. Did you hurt your head? “

Pushing herself off of the ground into a sitting position the girl smiles up at him sending tiny flutters through his heart. She’s gorgeous. Even with her mismatched hat and the snow in her hair. 

“I’m okay. Just a bit bruised but I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? That was a mighty fall.” 

“Was it embarrassing?” 

“I don’t think anyone but me saw. And I for one think you put on one hell of a performance.”

Her laughter, he thinks, might be even better than her smile. 

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not. I promise. Hey, what’s your name? “

“Oh sorry, so rude of me— “ she exclaimed before standing up and holding a glove-covered hand out to Eddie. “I’m (Y/N). I just moved here.” 

“Well, again, I am Eddie. I’m in a band with Gareth who lives over there.” 

“You’re in a band? “ her eyes widen at this revelation. 

“Mmh. Corroded Coffin. We play mostly metal stuff.”

“That sounds amazing!”

That’s not the reaction he’s used to. Girls don’t usually take too kindly to his taste in music. It’s not to say there are none who enjoy metal, he just hasn’t found them yet. Until now it seems.

“It does?”

“It does! You think the band would be okay with me sitting in and listening to you guys practice? I don’t really have any friends yet and — “

“Yeah sure, absolutely!” 

There’s no doubt in his mind the guys will be ecstatic. It’s not every day a pretty girl shows interest in their band … or them. 

“Okay cool. Awesome. “

Walking towards Gareth’s house, their boots leave imprints on the fresh snow. A sign that makes Eddie aware that this is not a dream. This is actually happening. Maybe life is finally turning for him. Giving him something good. Someone special.

“Christmaasss, the snow’s coming down.” 

She responds to his singing with a friendly shove of her shoulders against his “Oh come on. Now you’re taking the piss.” 

“I’m not.”

She raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

“You know what that means, right?”

“What?”

“Now you have to play the song during practice.”

A smile takes over his face, pulling at the muscles of his cold cheeks. 

“Huh, I think I can do that!”

He doesn’t know how to play the damn song but if it makes her smile like this, he might just have to figure it out.

“ Sooo — how’s the parents?”

Eddie’s voice cuts through the awkward silence. This is strange and unfamiliar. Back then, 4 years ago, there was never a moment of silence with them that came even close to being awkward or uncomfortable. They always had something to say, to joke around and be goofy. Even if they didn’t, they would bask in comfortable silence, happy to just be with each other.

This feels like a whole different life, an alternate universe. There is so much left to say between them, the air is thick with it. But this is not the time and place to say any of it. Maybe there will never be a time or place.

“Yeah, they’re good. I mean dad hurt himself the other day when he slipped on the ice in the driveway but you know how he is. Always clumsy.”

“Runs in the family.” 

Almost. He almost gets a smile out of her. Almost.

“ I guess so. How’s Wayne?”

Eddie grins though he keeps his eyes fixed on the snowy road in front of them.

“Working too much. Watching reruns of the same old show. Nothing changed. Same old Wayne.” 

It has always been like this, Eddie talking about his uncle. Though his words don’t give it away, the tone of his voice always does. It is filled with adoration, with gratefulness, and love. Wayne is the only proper family that Eddie has ever known and though neither of them will ever outright admit it, at least not sober, the two mean the world to each other.

She misses Wayne, (Y/N) can admit that much. He was always so sweet to her, letting her see behind the perpetually grumpy facade and see the soft-spoken, bighearted man he truly is.

“He still smoking?” 

Eddie scoffs “ ‘course.”

“ He promised me he’d try quitting.”

“ He did try, for like 5 hours.”

(Y/N) shakes her head in mock disappointment. “Tell him I am not happy with him. And also tell him I said hi.”

“ Tell him yourself. You can come by whenever. I’m sure you’ll have a lot on your plate while you’re here but he’d love to see you.”

The thought of going back to the trailer fills (Y/N) with a sense of dread. Not because there is anything bad tied to it. No, that’s the problem. All her best memories are connected to the trailer. It’s all happiness and love. The best of times. Going back would only make her face the brutal truth that it’s all over, forever and she can get none of it back. All that’s left of those times are memories and heartbreak.

“ I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why not?” 

He asks the question with the innocence of a child. Someone who really doesn’t see the issue. Sometimes she wonders if he does it on purpose or if he really doesn’t get it. Did he move on so easily? Is this not ripping him apart the way it does her?

“Eddie, ex-partners don’t usually go around to visit their ex’s family for the holidays. It’s — it would be awkward.” 

She can tell he wants to say something. Can almost see it on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it down and nods in defeat.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

The awkward silence is back. Worse than before because now there’s the inkling of guilt nagging away at her. Is she being too harsh? She doesn’t want to hurt or disappoint Eddie, and she’d definitely love to see Wayne. But is it worth it breaking her own heart in the process? Does she not get to be bitter still at the heartbreak and the whole mess Eddie created 4 years ago?

The welcome to Hawkins sign is almost invisible through the thick snowfall as they pass it. It’s weird coming home for the first time in 4 years after spending the last few Christmases on vacation with her parents somewhere. It feels good. Involuntarily, she glances to her left at the boy who, despite it all, still holds her heart in his palms. It feels good and it also feels extremely heartbreaking at the same time.

Static fills the car as the radio signal finally gives up and bows to the harsh winter winds.

"Ah shit, hey take a look in the glove box there's some cassette tapes. I think there's even a Christmas one." Eddie instructs, struggling to drive on the icy roads.

Cold fingers reach out to the glove compartment. The fact that the first thing she sees is a little bag of weed shouldn’t be surprising her, it still paints a little smile on her face though. 4 years but a blink. 

There are several tapes, Eddie’s chicken scratch writing indicating what’s on them. Iron Maiden. Sabbath. That one Beach Boys tape he doesn’t want anyone to know about. 

And then there’s the Christmas tape. It’s the only one he owns. She knows this because she made it for him after complaining that he didn’t have any Christmas music to listen to during the festive season. There’s a sticker of a sparkly gold star and another of a candy cane stuck to the case and in big red letters it proudly exclaims “Eddie and (Y/N)’s MiX-mas tape.” 

She thought she was so clever with that wordplay. If only that naive girl knew how things were gonna end up. 

Shaky hands push the cassette into the player. It takes a moment and then the smooth voice of Nat King Cole fills the silence with his rendition of O Come, All Ye Faithful.

This time she can’t suppress the smile. A memory flushes her brain that is too precious and too wholesome and too — important for her to ever stop herself from smiling at the thought of it. 

And it seems she’s not the only one. 

Eddie dares to glance her way and when he catches sight of her smile, he lets the corner of his lips arch upwards too.

“That was a good Christmas, wasn’t it? “

“ Are you kidding me? That was the best Christmas.” 

“What do you mean, Christmas is canceled? “

A gloomy mood rests over the entire trailer park. Families that had been so excited for the season's festivities, who had spent the last weeks barely getting by in order to save some money to be able to give their kids a happy Christmas, now sit inside their cold trailers with sad faces and heavy hearts.

“Power is out. Wayne and some of the neighbors have been trying to get the emergency generators going but those things are so damn old and no one ever comes around to check on them — you know, with us trailer park people being second-class citizens of Hawkins and all. I could maybe power my amp with that generator but that’s about it. Maybe a vinyl player. “

(Y/N) stands on the steps leading up to the Munson’s trailer, a cold dish of her mother’s casserole in her hand and a big silly red bow on top of her head. This isn’t what she had imagined the night to go. She was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with the Munsons. Watch White Christmas or Gremlins or Meet me in St. Louis while the casserole is in the oven. Maybe get a little tipsy on eggnog. Get a mistletoe kiss from her boyfriend and — if she’s really lucky a dance around the Christmas tree from Wayne. 

But this? This is just sad. A bunch of families who already struggle enough as it is, looking devastated and knowing that if the power doesn’t magically turn on again, not only will their Christmas eve be ruined but so will the rest of their festivities. No one’s gonna come check or repair anything tomorrow on Christmas day. Not for people at the trailer park.

“Well shit,” Wayne’s voice sounds from inside the trailer, “if the power is out that means the fridge is out. All those good steaks I bought can go straight to the trash. So much for treating ourselves for the holidays.” 

(Y/N) never believed in higher powers or miracles or any of that stuff but in that moment something shifts. And maybe it’s just a light bulb moment but it feels like a spark of something magical. An excitement that starts in her heart and spreads all throughout her body.

“Eds, the big BBQ grills out by the picnic tables still work, right?”

“Uh — yeah. Why ?”

The innocence and confusion and softness in his eyes remind her of a puppy dog. Oh, how she loves this boy and all his sweetness. She had a plan for tonight. It was supposed to be their magical Christmas eve and she’s not gonna let anything ruin that for her.

“Christmas is officially back on! Get the tinsel, some candles — oh, and your guitar.”

“My gui — what are you plotting here, babe?” 

“Do you trust me?” 

The fact that he doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second, sends her heart into a little frenzy. It really is them against the world. Against snow storms and power outages and every other obstacle there can possibly be.

“I do! So what’s the plan boss? “

Eddie never believed in higher powers or miracles or any of that stuff. And though he liked to get lost in fantastical stories of magical realms and creatures, he was well aware of the fact that true magic doesn’t exist. 

At least he thought so — until now. 

The trailer park is decked out in ribbon and bows, in tinsel and glitter, There is music flowing from a record player hooked to a generator and steaks sizzling on the grill. People are gathered around a campfire, warming their hands with mugs of hot cocoa. 

An ocean of candles and some battery-powered Christmas lights illuminate the whole place and the Mayfields even dragged their Christmas tree out of the trailer for everyone to gather around. 

There is magic, he thinks and lets his gaze move over the crowd of smiling faces where hours ago all he could see was heartbreak. It’s just not the magic they tell you about in fairytales and movies. It’s a feeling of belonging, of community, of love. 

And maybe, (Y/N) is a little bit magical herself.

“ Hey Rockstar, “ the enchantress in question slides up next to him leaning against his van. “ Think the crowd is asking for a song.” 

“ The crowd or you?”

“ Oh, definitely the crowd.” 

In the candlelight you might mistake her for an angel, Eddie thinks. All golden glow and loving eyes. Whatever it is he’s feeling for this girl, he’s never felt this way about anyone else. For a while it was terrifying. Like all new things. Even the good ones. It was unfamiliar. Strange.

He’s not so scared anymore. Not when she looks at him like this, all gentle and soft. No rough edges or sharp points. It might be time to be brave and let himself feel all the big feelings that used to scare him so much. He thinks the big feelings might just be worth it.

“Hey, what you did for all these people today was — I don’t really know how to say it. You’re just so wonderful and kind and — yeah I don’t know. “

Glove-covered hands take a hold of his face as a cold nose is pressed against his. “Whatever it is you’re feeling right now, I want you to know I feel the same. You don’t have to say it. I know. And I hope you know too.”

He does. Not a doubt in his mind.

“You saved Christmas, baby.” 

“I’m like a reverse Grinch. And judging by the color of your nose you might just be Rudolf. Go get your guitar and play us some tunes by the fire. Crowd is asking”

He places a kiss on her lips. She tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint candy canes. Christmas personified. And if he didn’t love her so much he’d think this is awfully cheesy. It is, he’s not going to deny it. But he likes cheesy if it involves her. 

"Alright. But just for the record, I’d play even if it was only you asking me to. I’ll do anything for you.” 

He’s well aware that what she asked for was some melodic tunes on his old dusty acoustic. Something peaceful and slow. And really, he appreciates a good acoustic song, he likes playing them too. But this isn’t where his heart is. It would truly be a disservice to all of humanity if he were to deny the people his electric rendition of O Come, All Ye Faithful. 

There have been noise complaints before, especially when he first got the electric guitar. He can’t really blame people either. It’s loud and he just gets so lost in his music sometimes he forgets there are people around who maybe don’t want to hear him play.

They all don’t seem so bothered now. Everyone has a smile painted on their face. The sadness is washed away, lost somewhere in the candlelight flicker and the crackling of the fire. 

Eddie never had a big family, hell for most of his life he didn’t have anyone worth being called a part of his family. Not until he got sent to live with Wayne. He wonders if this is what it feels like. This sense of belonging of being a part of something bigger. Even if this moment, like all moments before it, will pass and one day only be a memory, he got to be a part of it now and that means — everything.

His eyes meet Wayne’s across the fire, who gives him a friendly nod of his head and while it means nothing to everyone else, Eddie knows what it means. It’s “I’m proud of you, kid.” 

And when he moves his gaze to the right, towards where (Y/N) is bundled up in one of his big flannel jackets, sipping on a mug of hot chocolate, his heart feels lighter than it ever has. 

“I love you”, she mouths to him as the battery-powered Christmas lights dip her in hues of blues and reds, and greens. 

“ I love you too,” he mouths back. And it’s not scary at all. In fact, it is the easiest thing in the world. 

“You really did save Christmas that night!” 

“ Don’t be dramatic, Eddie. I just — I did what I could. You and Wayne and the neighbors helped too. It wasn’t just me. And the power came back on like 4 hours later so —” 

“ Doesn’t matter. You made everyone really happy that day. I still get asked to play a song every Christmas eve.” 

Eddie not only has a great smile, it’s also incredibly infectious. It makes you want to join in even if every particle of your body wants to fight it. A losing game. A fool’s war. 

“Well, I got Wayne to dance with me that night. My proudest moment, really.”

“Oh I know”

He gives her a look that’s hard to describe. It’s laced with a secret.

“What’s that look for ?” 

Shaking his head, Eddie sends his unruly curls moving. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

Right, cause saying that is the best way in getting people to not worry or be curious.

(Y/N) is just about to continue the conversation, to interrogate him a little more. To really get to the bottom of the look that has settled over his face, when the song switches to the next one.

And that one grabs a hold of her throat and slowly closes its iron fist, cutting off her air supply. 

Devoid of air, devoid of all feelings but heartache, the van suddenly feels like a cage. 

“I really like that song, turn it up — “

She doesn’t turn it up. Her hands don’t move from where they are tightly gripping the fabric of her pants. Clammy and cold like she has suddenly been plunged into a fever.

It’s not a sickness. Just a most horrible memory.

“The lamp is burnin' low upon my tabletop

The snow is softly falling

The air is still in the silence of my room

I hear your voice softly calling”

Gordon Lightfoot’s voice echoes through the halls of the (Y/L/N) family home. Mom must’ve changed the records having had enough of Dad’s rock Christmas compilation vinyl.

The house is packed with people, family and friends, and neighbors. All of them gathered here to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year. If things were different (Y/N)’s heart would be full of love and gratefulness. To see all her loved ones together. To have a house filled with laughter and joy. 

Instead, she finds herself leaning against the wall looking out of the window into the inky black night. Snow is falling softly making this whole scene feel like a cheesy Christmas movie. 

Only Christmas movies always have happy endings and there’s a stinging sensation in her heart that tells her this one might not. 

“Honey,” her mother’s warm gentle hand takes a hold of her shoulder “ the Lintons are here. You remember their daughter Mary? She went to college last year, wanna go have a chat with her? Let her tell you about what to expect? “

Just a few days ago she would’ve jumped at the chance. Excitement would have flooded her veins and dreams of a future filled her head. Only that future seems like a distant dream now. One made up by a silly little girl who believed in fairytales and happily ever afters. And a love that lasts forever.

“I uh — I’ll be there in a minute. Just wanna see if Eddie makes it or not.” 

“ Oh, he’s not here yet? “

No, mother. Obviously not. Otherwise would I be standing here like an idiot watching the window like a delusional child waiting for Santa to never come? 

“ Not yet. We — we had a fight. Not sure he’ll come by at all.” 

“Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I’m sure you’ll figure it out though, you two always do.”

They do but things have never been this bad. He never said the things before he said that night last week. He has never looked at her like that either. 

“Have you tried calling him?”

Calling him? No, obviously not. That would feel like admitting to being wrong. And she isn’t wrong. She wasn’t wrong that night either. Is it so bad to wish for a future together? To hope and to dream of something magical? 

“Well maybe then we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!“

His words still sting. It stings worse to know he didn’t immediately regret them after they tumbled from his lips. 

“No.”

“Well, okay. Just come join us when you’re ready. And let me know if there is anything I can do.” 

Her mom pulls her into a warm hug. She smells like wine and cinnamon and jasmine perfume. She smells like mom and Christmas and for a second (Y/N) feels a spark of contentment. 

The spark diminishes the moment her mother leaves to go mingle with the rest of the guests. 

Then it’s just her and the night and the empty street and a heart shattered into a million pieces.

She goes through motions like a zombie. Greet guests, hugs, handshakes, smile and nod, eat, drink, give short but friendly answers, try not to fall apart, smile, hug, drink, watch the clock, look out the window, smile. Smile. Smile.

As the lock clicks into place, (Y/N) leans against the counter of the bathroom, hands gripping the fake marble countertop as if it’s the only thing keeping her afloat. Maybe it is.

It’s almost 10. Party started at 6. He knew. He knows. 

He’s not here and he probably won't be. 

Tears are threatening to fall. Gathering at her lower lashline, turning her eyes glassy. A knot builds in her throat, impossible to swallow. Maybe, she thinks, this is her heart making its way up her body to be thrown up and discarded. Ain’t usable anymore anyway.

Maybe it’s time to admit defeat. To pick up that stupid phone and call him. If not to bring him here at least to get closure. To know for sure he isn’t coming because he doesn’t want to and not because he lies bleeding in a ditch somewhere on the way to her house.

Wiping the tears and fixing her mascara, she makes her way to her room and picks up the phone. Eddie always makes fun of the lip-shaped phone but she loves the thing. Remembering them laughing about it makes her sick.

It rings once. Twice. Three times.

Then a Munson picks up. Not her Munson though.

Wayne’s sleep-laced voice croaks out a tired “hello?”.

She almost feels bad for waking him. But this isn’t her fault. Is it?

“Hi Wayne, sorry for waking you. I was just wondering if Eddie is home?”

“Uh, no sweetheart. Him and the boys are out I think at the Hideout? I’m not entirely sure. I think that’s the place he said.” 

One time, when she was just 5 years old, (Y/N) got a sparkly princess dress for Christmas. It was pink and full of glitter and sequins. She loved that thing. Wanted to wear it every day. Refused to take it off when they went to see her grandparents. So her parents let her. Actions and consequences. She wore that thing even when they went outside to play in the snow. She still remembers how fucking cold that was. It chilled her all the way to the bones.

Hearing Eddie choose to go out drinking instead of seeing her makes her feel a different kind of cold, but one that is just as chilling, just as all-consuming.

“Okay, yeah that must be it. Thank you, Wayne. Bye.” 

The click of the receiver as she puts it back down sounds deafening through the silence of her room.

Her cries are silent though, just tears. There’s hardly room to breathe in her lungs, let alone sob or scream. But then again, pain doesn’t have to be loud to be serious. 

20 minutes later she stands in the living room, some glass of non-alcoholic cranberry cocktail clutched in her hand. 

Mom’s record is on its 3rd or 4th loop because they keep putting the needle back to the beginning and no one bothers to change it.

She’s wearing the red crushed velvet dress that Eddie loves so much and she feels like a goddamn fool. 

But life keeps moving whether you're ready or not.

So she drinks and she eats and she hugs and she smiles. Only this time her eyes never wander over to the window. Not once. 

“Hey, why did you skip the song? I said I like it.” 

“Well I don’t” 

“You put it on there!” 

“Yeah 4 fucking years ago. Eddie this, “ she says and motions with her finger between the two of them “doesn’t change anything. You driving me home. Us reminiscing about the good old times. We’re not friends and I’m still angry at you.” 

“For what? Why are you angry at me? What did I do?”

He says it with such absolute disbelief and confusion. As if he really doesn’t know. 

Does he really not know? 

“Eddie, you broke up with me. For absolutely no reason. “

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on now. Don’t play dumb. We had this stupid fight about college and how I wanted to help you with your grades so you could graduate and you blocked me out completely. And every time I talked about our future you got all pissy.”

“ Because I was embarrassed!” 

“I get that I really do. But I was so understanding and you just brushed it off like our plans didn’t mean shit to you. And then you broke up with me.”

“What are you talking about? I never broke up with you! You broke up with me!” 

He combs his fingers through his hair with irritation written all over his face. What the fuck does he mean? She wasn’t the one breaking up. He was! 

He was …. right ?! 

“ You literally said and I quote ‘Well maybe we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!’“

“Yeah, I was talking out of my ass. I was frustrated and sad and angry but not at you. At myself. And I never broke up with you.” 

It’s like the earth shifts. Tectonic plates crashing into each other, shaking everything up, plunging the world into chaos. Her world at least. Everything she thought she knew about him and her and them now seems like a maybe — a perhaps.

“Then why didn’t you show up at my family’s Christmas party? I asked you to come.”

“And then in the car after our fight, you said not to bother.”

“Because I thought you had broken up with me.” 

“And then I woke up to a box of my things on the steps of the trailer.” 

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year !” 

“Oh for fucks sake.” 

“It's the hap-happiest season of all”

It was supposed to be. Only it fucking isn’t.

They were supposed to be driving to lovers lake and meet up with some friends, go ice skating, have a good time, and be a loving couple.

It wasn’t supposed to end up with her head leaning against the car window, watching the snow flurry outside and wiping away tears in a way that she thinks he doesn’t notice.

He notices. And he hates himself for making her cry in the first place.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so weird about this. I just want to help you, Eds. I have this whole plan set up on how to get your grades back on track. But I need you to work for it. If that is too much to ask then — I don’t know.” 

“ No, go ahead. Say it! ” 

“ I don’t know what you mean.” 

“If it’s too much to ask then I will just end up not graduating and all our perfect plans will be ruined.” 

“I never said that”

He knows he is being unfair. It’s not her fault. In fact, it is entirely his own. He’s awfully aware of this and maybe that’s the whole point. This is on him and she should not be the one having to bear his luggage. They’re just 18, it’s too much of him to ask her to deal with his issues, save him from his own demons.

Nevertheless, it sucks. So bad. 

That future she was talking about, dreaming of, he wants that too. More than anything. But it was always too good to be true. Dreams like that aren’t for a boy like him.

He’s not gonna graduate this year, no matter how many study plans and extra work and confidence she puts in. He’s the king of lost causes. Everyone knows. Maybe it’s time for her to realize it too. 

She will stay. For him. Wait a whole year. Put her life on pause. All just for little old him who doesn’t deserve it. Only to what? Realize next year that all that confidence and trust was utterly misplaced.

“You don’t have to say it for it to be true.” 

“Why are you being so unkind? I’m trying to help you.”

“Well stop trying! It’s not going to work out.” 

She’s quiet for a moment and it just about kills him. This isn’t about her or them even. She has to know this, right? That he appreciates her and everything she does. It’s just — useless.

“This as in you graduating or this as in us? “

He hates where this conversation is going. He never meant for it to go there. He loves this girl, he doesn’t want this to end. 

But this stupid self-destructive part of him just can’t seem to shut up. It’s like the devil on his shoulder has completely smothered the angel and is whispering all the wrong things into Eddie’s ear. 

“The graduating part but maybe —”

“Don’t. Don’t even finish that sentence. What about our plans? What about being meant for each other?”

Shut the fuck up. His mind is screaming at him to just keep his mouth shut. To pull over and kiss her stupid and tell her that they are meant to be together. That she is it for him. Now and then and forever. But the reality of it all is that she deserves so much better. And his demons scream louder than his heart beats. 

“Well, maybe we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!”

Never in his life will he forget the way she looks at him then. Utter betrayal floods her eyes. Disappointment. Heartbreak. He hates himself for doing this. Why can’t he ever keep the good things in his life? Why must he always mess things up? No wonder everyone leaves. He wouldn’t stay either. The self-sabotaging mess that he is.

“You been thinking about this for a while? Us?”

“ No, of course not. “

“Then why are you saying these things all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know (Y/N).” 

It’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at her and it feels disgusting. Vile. If only he could be like the heroes or magicians in his favorite stories. Brave and strong and maybe possess the magic to change the past or travel back. Back to when things were good and he was able to push his demons back into the furthest corner of his mind. 

“Well, my mom’s Christmas party is this weekend so you better figure it out, or don’t bother showing up. Let me out here.” 

“ It’s snowing.”

“Eddie, let me the fuck out. My house is just down the street. I can literally see it from here.” 

He drives alongside her all the way to her door. She doesn’t look back at him. Not a glance. Nothing.

“It’s good like this. You don’t deserve her anyway.” 

He wonders if the devil on his shoulder is truly louder or if the angel is just agreeing with him. 

“It's the most wonderful time

Yes the most wonderful time

Oh the most wonderful time

Of the year”

“Oh fuck off, Andy!” 

Disgusting. He feels disgusting. Disgusting and sad.

There’s a Christmas party going on right now that he’s supposed to be at. But she doesn’t want him there. Not like this. A guy who can’t even graduate from high school. Who will only hold her back? 

He’s sad and drunk. Wayne thinks he’s at the hideout with friends when in reality he just drove his van down the snowy roads of Hawkins, going all over the place except her street. Because he’s scared of what he might see. 

It would’ve been so easy to just take another right turn and knock on her door and say sorry. But what if by now she realized how much better off she is without him? 

So he doesn’t show up. Instead, he drives back home, parks the van behind the trailer and gets drunk. And because he is a huge masochist and loves hurting himself, he puts on the Christmas tape she made for him.

“Ding Dong. Ding dong. It’s the most — “

“Ding dong. Ding dong. Shut the fuck up, Andy!” 

It’s all too much. The songs and the weather and the heartbreak and the self-pity.

Slowly he drags himself out of the van and up the trailer stairs. His feet feel heavy, his heart even heavier.

A wave of warmth engulfs him suddenly as the door swings open. Wayne looks less than excited to see him. Why would he be? If he weren’t so drunk, maybe Eddie would notice the softness in the man’s eyes. The concern edged onto his face.

“Kid, you okay?”

“Just peachy, uncle Wayne.”

“Mmh. Well (Y/N) called asking for you.”

It feels like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head and suddenly all the haze of the alcohol is gone. She called. She cares. Oh god, she still cares.

“What did she say?”

“Not much. Just asked if you’re home.”

“And what did you tell her?” 

“The truth. That you’re out with the boys.”

“Ah shit Wayne, what’d you do that for?”

“What? What was I supposed to do? Lie?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going to do that. What is going on, Eddie?”

A shuddered breath leaves Eddie’s lips.

“We had a fight. A bad one. I messed things up. I gotta go see her. Shit, I gotta fix this.”

Wayne reaches out and grabs a hold of Eddie’s jacket, pulling him into the warm trailer.

“You’re not going anywhere, kid. You’re drunk. I sure am not gonna let you drive in this state. Go to bed, get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow morning you can drive over and fix it. And you need a goddamn shower.” 

He falls asleep at 4am. Wakes up at 6. He has a whole speech prepared. Starting with I’m sorry and ending with I love you. He takes a shower, gets dressed. He even wears the sweater she likes so much. 

And as he pulls open the door he is greeted by a box of his stuff sitting on the steps of the trailer. 

“So we both thought the other broke up and actually neither of us wanted to actually break up?”

“God, what a mess, Eddie.”

She’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry. It’s all too much. Her heart is beating too fast. Her mind is racing. 

“What do we do now?”

“Nothing, Eds. It’s been 4 years. What does it matter now?”

Everything. It matters and it changes everything but admitting that is scary. 

Eddie pulls up the gravel driveway of her childhood home. Two heavy hearts and a million unsaid words fill the car as she grabs the door handle.

“Is this goodbye again?”

“Neither of us said goodbye last time.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“You have a point. First time for everything, huh?”

A stinging sensation starts behind her eyes, pushing the tears to the brink, as she steps out of the car and out into the harsh winter winds.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Hey, (Y/N)” He calls out as she drags her suitcase up the steps of the house.

“Yeah?”

“Just for the record. Even if it doesn’t change anything. I still love you. It matters a lot to me that you didn’t want us to end either.” 

He doesn’t know what hurts more. The fact that she nods or watching her walk away and close the door behind her.

She didn’t say goodbye this time either.

Oh, holy shit — she didn’t say goodbye!

“What’s this?” 

(Y/N)’s mom sits at the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in hand and a mischievous smile on her face. It’s way too early for any of her shenanigans even if they come in the form of a vinyl record wrapped in a big red bow.

“Don’t know. It was there this morning when I opened the door. Right there on our front porch. Looks like a record to me though.”

“You know who left it?”

“No,” mom shrugs and points to the record resting on the kitchen table. “There’s a letter though.” 

It’s a small blue envelope and her name is written on it in a chicken scratch she immediately recognizes. At least it’s still shut which means her mother hasn’t peaked inside and studied all the contents of the letter.

“When did he bring this?” 

Her mom denies everything. Even goes as far as throwing her an “I don’t know what you mean”. What she doesn’t account for, is the fact that she is a horrible liar. Truly abysmal.

“Of course you don’t. Well, I'm gonna go upstairs and read this. In peace!” 

Her mother’s laughter follows her all the way up until she closes the door to her childhood bedroom and drops down onto her bed. 

A beehived Brenda Lee smiles back at (Y/N) from the cover of the vinyl record, a present clutched in her hand and a Christmas tree sparkling in the background. 

Why he chose that specific record, she has no clue.

With shaky fingers, she opens and unfolds the letter. Eddie used to do this a lot back when they were together. Leave her letters and notes. She thought it was very old school and very romantic at the same time. Something poetic and artistic about it. Where he wasn’t good at saying the words out loud, he was quite the phenomenal writer.

“(Y/N),

let me start by saying I’m sorry. That’s also what I wanted to tell you that night of the party — and the morning after. I should’ve. I should’ve fought for us and told you how I felt even when I thought we were over. I just never felt like I really deserved you and some fucked up part of my brain made me believe that sooner or later you’d realize that too. I guess I thought it was easier this way. Like ripping off a bandaid. It wasn’t easy. Not even a little bit. That part of me is still there, I doubt it will ever go away. But I am better now. I like to think I have matured but Wayne says I just lost a bit of my stupid in the last few years. I graduated! Crazy I know. I have a job now too. And while I will never be the smartest person in any room, I like to believe I made something of myself. You still deserve better but I hope that maybe this version of me can be enough.

I understand if this changes nothing for you but it changes everything for me. I still love you as much as the moment I saw you fall down the ladder, or kissed you in the snow, or watched you save Christmas. 

I knew we were gonna be forever when I watched you across the trailer park, illuminated by candles and Christmas lights. You were dancing with Wayne! It’s the first and only time I’ve ever seen him dance. Both of you were laughing and life just felt like a movie or a song or both. 

Brenda Lee was playing in the back and I knew I loved you then and I would love you forever. You were my family then and you always will be.

Now I’m not expecting you to come running back into my arms and start back up where we left it but if you find the time in your busy schedule to come see me during your holiday visit, that would mean the world to me. 

Maybe listen to some Christmas tunes.

And even if you don’t I just wanted you to know that my favorite Christmas gift was you. Every year that we were together, it was always you.

I love you (still)

Eddie. “ 

A frantic knock sounds from the front door of the trailer and shakes Eddie from his nap on the couch. After not being able to sleep at all last night he must’ve dozed off somewhere between the morning cartoons and the breakfast TV.

He really needs to get Wayne one of those big ass keychains that you can clip to your jeans or something. That man forgets his keys at least 3 times a day.

“I’m coming, geez. Wayne, you really gotta — You’re not Wayne!” 

She regards him with a smile and that special spark of magic in her eyes. The one he hasn’t seen in 4 years. The one he so desperately missed.

“Well, I hope not. Otherwise what I’m about to do would be pretty weird.” 

“What are you — “

But he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence when her lips meet his in a kiss. It’s sweet and chaotic and rushed and soft. Familiar and nostalgic. She feels so cold against his warm skin but she still tastes like peppermint and smells like winter.

“ So, “ she says as she pulls away from the kiss, just barely but enough to take a breath. “ wanna listen to some tunes?”

The Brenda Lee vinyl is clutched in her hand as she bites her lip in anticipation.

As if there’s a chance he’d ever say no. 

“There’s nothing in this world I’d rather do.” 

[jasmariswonderland]

✨🎭A Glorious Masquerade With My Twst OCs🎭✨

Hello everyone!

A few days late but better late than never right? Here are my Glorious Masquerade headcanons for Yuulan, Danica, Farron, Sidonie and Vidaria! 

I should note that in my twst-oc universe, this is a canon event. But instead of taking place around halloween, this event takes place in midsummer with NRC holding prom around the same time, Yes this will be relevant in future writing. 

~~~

Yuulan was very surprised when she was selected for the arcane academy social, but she’s also thrilled. She enjoys traveling and so far, one of the things she’s enjoyed so far about being at NRC is when she’s allowed to travel off school campus and see more of Twisted Wonderland. 

But she isn’t so thrilled when she finds out that both Malleus and Vidaria are also attending. Since Book 5, Yuulan and Malleus have slowly become more distant thanks to Malleus keeping his betrothal a secret from her and the rather blase manner he responded when she confronted him about it. Malleus has tried seeking her out since but Yuulan is still trying to sort out her feelings and for him and what exactly they are. And needless to say, she can’t help but feel the smallest bit of envy of Vidaria.

While in the City of Flowers, Yuulan manages to keep her distance of Malleus, Sebek making it all the easier. But she has a lot of fun hanging out with Epel and Deuce, particularly the latter. And up until he looses his entire fucking mind, she even grows to like Rollo as well. They have a lot of amiable conversation about the history of the City of Flowers and she likes that he seems genuinely interested in her. Yuulan has always suffered insecurity about lacking magic in this world and can’t help but feel like a useless tag along at times. Her falling out with Malleus hasn’t helped matters either. But Rollo helps Yuulan forget her more recent troubles, even if she does think he’s a tad peculiar. 

And then all hell breaks loose that evening with the firelotuses and any amiable feelings Yuulan had for Rollo go completely out the window. She’s horrified that he could be capable of such terrible things but she’s even more horrified by Malleus’ reaction when he realizes Rollo only intended to trap him and his invitation to the City of Flowers was never genuine. His brief tirade and the magic he displays is enough for Yuulan to temporarily be freighted by him, for the very first time. 

But with help from Farron and Professor Trein, she and Grim destroy the firelotuses in the city. At the masquerade, she now keeps her distance from Rollo but does finally talk to Malleus. They dance for a while and their conversation is pleasant but she wonders if they could ever really be friends like they once were. On the other hand, Yuulan spends a lot of time with Deuce and begins to see him in a different light. She’s always liked him but she can feel her feelings for him beginning to deepen within this elegant masquerade setting. 

Danica, Farron, Sidonie and Vidaria’s under the cut! 

For Danica, this arcane academy social comes at a very difficult time in her life. Her relationship with Vil is on the rocks and she’s recently transferred to Diasomnia. To make matters worse, at the same time of the social, NRC will be hosting their yearly ball and it was her hope that she and Vil could reconcile then. Unfortunately her selection for the social squashes this plan. But it isn’t all bad. Some of Danica’s friends have also been selected and this actually isn’t her first time visiting the City of Flowers. Her sister brought her there for her birthday many years ago and her mother is actually an alumni of NBC. So Danica is looking forward to seeing the school her mother once attended. 

She loves her masquerade gown and with it, she’s choses to bring her own mask, one that was gifted to her by one of her dorm mates for her birthday. And it’s a perfect match, though Farron remarks that Diasomnia’s colors don’t quite suit her as well as Pomefiore’s

All in all, Danica thoroughly enjoys exploring the city with her classmates, trying pastries in one of the local bakeries, and making friends with a community goat. And to make things even better, she’s surprised when while checking out a shop, she runs into her friends Minette and Florine! As it turns out, students from RSA were also selected to attend the arcane academy social. Neige is also there but he and Danica are on better terms now. 

Needless to say, Danica is very happy to see them again even though her fellow NRC classmates side eye her. Sebek makes a remark about Danica being a traitor and even though the others try to write off his remark as a joke (it wasn’t), it really hurts her, to the point she ends up sitting with her RSA friends during the Topsy Turvy festival with Trein’s approval. She also walks back to NBC with Minette and Florine and when the firelotuses begin blooming and Rollo opens the trap door, Minette manages to used the last of her strength to pull Danica away from what she thinks is a death fall. Inadvertently seperating her from the rest of the NRC group.

Eventually though, Sidonie and Vidaria return to NBC with the other NRC students and drag an unconscious Danica out into the courtyard. They try to heal her but the rampant firelotuses prevents them from being successful until the Bell of Solace is rung. Danica ends up making a full recovery and enjoys the rest of her time in the City of Flowers. Including dancing with Vidaria and Florine at the masquerade, trying on her mother’s old NBC uniform and buying a glass mobile for Vil. 

~~~

Farron is thrilled to be joining in on the social as he has always dreamed of visiting the City of Flowers because it’s considered a major hub for high fashion. He’s greatly looking forward to shopping not just for clothes but also for materials for future projects. When he finds out from Trein that other schools will be attending as well, Farron secretly begins to hope that if RSA is included, Andrew will be there as well. In the days leading up to their departure, Farron spends a lot of time with his clubmates watching old films with the City of Flowers as a backdrop. Out of all the NRC students, Farron is definitely the most excited about this next to Malleus. 

And he absolutely LOVES his masquerade outfit which, by a strange coincidence, marches Sidonie’s masquerade dress perfectly. Not that he minds though. Considering he’s usually the one working to provide fabulous fashion for his friends, he doesn’t mind at all being given his outfit. 

Sadly, Andrew is not included in the RSA envoy for the social. Farron is saddened by this but after a few hours exploring the city, he’s determined that the next time he visits, Andrew will be by his side. Farron buys a lucky charm for him and several little figurines for his older sister. He also manages to sneak off to one of the artsy districts and buys a few bolts of fabric and some beautiful lace. 

During the crisis with the firelotuses, Farron ops to help Professor Trein and Yuulan destroy the flowers in the city. At one point the flowers nearly strangle Grim and Farron manages to rescue him. Once the crisis has passed, he sleeps for a little while and wakes up a few hours before the masquerade to make a few alterations to everyone’s outfits as some of the got ripped and torn while dealing with the firelotuses. But he fully enjoys the ball with Yuulan and Sidonie being his most frequent dance partners

~~~

When Sidonie finds out she’s been selected for the social, she’s not too thrilled since she was looking forward to the NRC ball, hoping Trey would ask her to go. But when she finds out Danica is also going, she quickly changes tune. She feels partially responsible for her dorm transfer and feels as though she’s failed her. She’s also somewhat jealous of the fact that Vidaria has taken over the role of Danica’s mentor. She wants Danica to return to Pomefiore and the day before the NRC students depart for the City of Flowers, Sidonie visits Diasomnia and she and Vidaria actually form a truce. Even if they dislike each other, they both mutually care about Danica and through Vidaria’s intervention, Danica  and Sidonie are able to mend fences with the latter promising to protect her better in the future. 

From the start however, Sidonie and Rollo do NOT get along. While looking at the statue of the Righteous Judge, Trein likens him to other figures who aren’t as revered as the Great Seven but still remarkable. Like the Rose Witch. Rollo responds that he actually thinks the Rose Witch was far from admirable because she used her shape shifting magic to deceive the prince and rather than just cursing him, she cursed all of the prince’s retainers as well. (I mean…) Needless to say, Rollo immediately winds up on Sidonie’s shitlist with those remarks. 

But beyond that, she enjoys exploring the city and buys a bell shaped amulet for Trey. During the Topsy Turvy festival when they’re all dancing, Danica catches everyone’s attention with her graceful movements and one of the performers brings her up on the stage with them. Rollo clearly disapproves of this and makes another remark about a witch who used her dancing to bewitch people and ran afoul of the Righteous Judge. He compares Danica to this witch and it really angers Sidonie. But instead of telling him to shut up, she decides to use her magic to cause a burst of rose petals to fall upon Danica as she’s dancing. This adds onto the chain reaction and the other NRC (and RSA) students also begin performing little bursts of magic to add some excitement to the festival. Furthering Rollo’s disapproval. 

It goes without saying, Sidonie was not surprised at all when Rollo showed his true colors. She joins the group of NRC students going after Rollo and greatly looks forward to beating his ass. But when they return to the school's hall, she finds Danica unconscious on the floor. Vidaria helps her drag Danica outside, hoping that some fresh air and healing potion will revive her. But nothing works until the Bell of Solace is rung. 

Until then, Sidonie and Vidaria team up to destroy as many firelotuses as they can before they also succumb to their malevolence. Though Sidonie will never admit it out loud, she begins to develop a reluctant admiration for her. During the masquerade the next night, they actually have friendly conversation and make many secret jokes at Rollo’s expense. At one point, they watch Danica dancing with Florine and Rollo once again compares her to the witch who tried to bewitch the Righteous Judge. Sidonie and Vidaria scoff at him with the latter asking Rollo ``Did she really bewitch him, or was the Righteous Judge not so righteous after all?” This remark fully earns her Sidonie’s respect.

~~~

Vidaria has visited the City of Flowers once for a equestrian tournament but she didn’t have much chance to really explore the city or do anything outside of the tournament. So she’s was excited to attend the arcade academy social from the start. When Malleus proposes that the NRC students invited perform a traditional song during the social, Vidaria and Danica decide they want to add onto the song by performing a traditional dance as ballet originated in the City of Flowers. In the weeks leading up to is, Danica teaches Vidaria more about ballet and they become closer friends. 

However, when they arrive at NBC, Vidaira immediately feels suspicious of Rollo. She notices the way he looks at Malleus and having experienced fae racisim herself in the past, she gets an unsettling feeling that his intentions might not be fully amiable. But she forces her suspicions to the back of her mind since she knows she has a tendency to be paranoid. She manages to forget her suspicions for a while as she enjoys exploring the city with her friends. At one point, Sebek approaches her and Danica asking what kind of souvenir Taima would appreciate. He swears he just wants to give her something because he’s grown to respect her but the girls secretly snicker about this for the rest of the day. 

Unfortunately, Vidaria’s suspicious about Rollo prove to be correct later that evening when the firelotuses begin to bloom. Being a fae, Vidaria is not as affected by the firelotuses as her companions but it’s still a terrifying experience for her. She initially chooses returning to NBC with her classmates to deal with Rollo but changes her mind when she finds Danica unconscious with her RSA friends. She and Sidonie drag her into the courtyard and team up in destroying the firelotuses for as long as they can. 

When the crisis passes, Vidaria and Sidonie are able to successfully revive Danica and come for a level of understanding they haven’t had since the beginning of their freshman year. At the masquerade, Vidaria and Danica perform together and later the dances with Silver, much to her delight. 

[oliviarose06]

Reincarnate Chapter One: Digging Up Regrets

It wasn't her fault. He wanted to help. He wanted to do it. Those were all things Taralynne had been told since Ricky's death. When the Reincarnates took over, everything fell apart. They took the forms of those they killed, according to everyone. Tara had no reason to worry about their origin, not until now. A lot of people, including Tara and her family, fled to this mansion Tara's grandfather owned since it was so big. Enough room for everyone that had fled there, a few people just had to share rooms. Thankfully, Ricky and Tara got their own room, until the Reincarnates got him. Now he's gone, and Tara is left to blame herself.

"Tara?" Her mother said, knocking on her bedroom door, "Can I come in?"

"Now's not the time, mom." Tara said with a roll of her eyes.

Susan, Tara's mother, always hated Ricky. Susan was an awful woman, who always tried to tell Tara 'Get over it!' and 'You're better off without him' when Tara says she misses him. Lately, though, Susan has been stooping to a new low; trying to set Tara up with a new man, just weeks after Ricky's drained corpse was found in the forest.

"Come on, Tara, just give Michael a chance, you'll realize you don't need Ricky with him around." Susan said, disregarding the sobbing coming from Tara's bedroom.

"Mom, I said not now! Go away!!" She shouted, and after a few seconds, her mother just came in and shut the door.

"Are you going mope around forever, Tara? He's gone, get over it and move on." Susan said bitterly.

"Yeah, I'll bet you're happy he's gone and I'm suffering because of it, aren't you, mom?" Tara sits up and sniffles.

"Oh, you know I'm not enjoying you mope around about a man that never deserved you to begin with, darling. I just want to get you out of this funk and back out there!" Susan said defensively.

"And you're only making it worse! Do me a favor and leave me alone!"

"Tara, I'm just-"

"Mom, LEAVE ME ALONE!" Tara shouted and slammed her head back down on her pillows.

After a few seconds, and with a huff, Susan left and slammed the door shut behind her. Taralynne was done waiting around for her life to get back on track. No amount of therapy or talking through her feelings could get the image of Ricky's lifeless, pale, and cold corpse out of her head. She wanted to see him alive and breathing one last time- she had to.

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

Later that night, Tara was pacing around her bedroom and wondering to herself... Was this a good idea? Sure, it was probably a death with, but seeing him one last time, telling him she loved him and she missed him, it was better to her than no closure at all and being miserable until she either dies or is killed by a Reincarnate or a looter.

"Fuck it." She said to herself. She grabbed her cloak, threw it on, grabbed her lantern and lit it, then grabbed her shovel and walked over to the window while looking at the clock. 3:15 am.

Ricky was buried in the cemetery, where all the others that have died in the initial Reincarnate uprising were buried. All she had to do was get passed the guards patrolling the area and she could walk down the path to the cemetery.

She opened the window and set the lantern on the windowsill, then tossed the shovel out onto the dirt and climbed out. Tara then grabbed the lantern, closed the window, and began walking to the old path to the cemetery.

As she walked, she saw the guard was at the gates, dead asleep. His snores were enough to attract Reincarnates from all over the place, being they were so loud Tara swore she heard the gates rattling.

"Fucking useless." She whispered with a scoff and snuck right past him and out the mansion gates. With a sigh, she began walking down the foggy path and towards where she knew the cemetery was.

The woods were always foggy at night, and it made Taralynne uneasy when she looked out her bedroom window, but now that she was walking through it herself it was so much worse. The forest seemed to be alive, breathing and whispering around her, but she ignored the growing dread in her gut and pressed on. After a few minutes, she finally reached the entrance to the cemetery and stopped to take a deep breath. Not long now, Taralynne. She thought to herself, It'll all be over soon, one way or another.

She walked into the cemetery into the cemetery and looked at all the headstones, reading the names of people she once knew and was close to.

Vinny Mauro. Justin Morrow. Joshua Balz. Christopher Cerulli... Richard Olson. That was it, this was where he was. She froze when she read it and gently set her lantern down before dropping to her knees. It felt all too real, seeing a headstone with his name on it, a dark reminder that he was gone and away from her. She missed him, wanted him back, so that's why she was here. She stood up, wiped her tears, and started digging. All she could do while she dug was cry, sob and occasionally stop to whimper and silently beg something would go her way tonight. It took what felt like hours of digging and throwing dirt over her shoulder to hit something...and she froze again to process that fact that she may have very well hit his coffin. After a few seconds of thinking, Taralynne threw her shovel out of the grave and dropped to her knees again on the wooden box to start throwing dirt to the side. While she was mindlessly and frantically throwing dirt aside, she felt a painful snag and tear on her hand. "Ow, fuck!" She whispered, seeing she'd been cut by broken glass, which took a few seconds to register to her.

Broken glass. That means the window that was on Ricky's coffin was broken, and after moving the dirt away from that area with her uninjured hand...her fears were confirmed. The glass was broken, and Ricky was gone.

"What the..."

Taralynne didn't get to fully process when she the back of her cloak get grabbed and she was yanked out of the grave like a small child throwing a small plastic doll. She flew through the air before crashing onto the ground and rolling, slamming her back into a tree. It took her a few seconds to get her vision back, but when she did, she saw a figure standing over her. Once she was able, and began backing away fearfully, "Ricky...Ricky no." She whispered as she looked at him.

He looked nothing like the Ricky she knew. His skin was pale, the skin around his hauntingly blue eyes was black and his long black hair was a rats nest. The dress shirt he was wearing looked a little wrinkled and torn and his pants were covered in dirt. He was a Reincarnate now...her worst fears were becoming realities. He stalked after her as she tried to scoot away from him and he only laughed.

"What is it, little one? Afraid of me? It's me, Tara. Don't be afraid." He said, almost taunting her.

"No, no you're not him. You're not Ricky." She said as she used a tree to stand up despite the pain in her back.

"Come on~. You know me, look me in the eye and say that again, babydoll."

His eyes started glowing blue as he was speaking, and it was captivating Taralynne, making her want to do exactly what he was telling her to.

"I...you..." But she managed to resist, and looked away, "No, you're not him! My Ricky is dead."

"Then what are you doing here?" He asked, tilting his head and smirking smugly at her as he stalked towards her, "Came to bid your little boyfriend goodbye? It's too late for that, Taralynne. He's long gone, you want him back?"

She started sobbing against the tree. He was just taunting her. Using her love for Ricky to make her fearful and miserable. It was what Reincarnates were known for. They had taken one girl from the mansion using her biggest points of sadness and suffering against her, Taralynne couldn't be the next. "No..."

"No?" Ricky scoffed, "Oh, yes you do, Tara-doll."

She tensed at the nickname. Tara-doll was a name only Ricky used for her when he was alive, the fact that this Reincarnate Ricky remembered was frightening, to say the least. not wasting another second, she tried to start running, and Ricky quickly gave chase. She had to get away. The pain in her back was making it unbearable, but she was only thinking about surviving now.

She didn't get very far before Ricky tackles her to the ground. She screams and struggles, but it was all useless. He was much stronger now. This wasn't the playfighting they used to do, where Ricky would let her win- this was life or death. Ricky was able to easily overpower her and pin her arms down, then she saw his head dart down to her neck and felt a pain she'd never felt before. Tara screamed as loud as she could, but soon felt lightheaded and began to lose consciousness.

"Soon, Tara-doll." Was the last thing she heard before she fell into a deep sleep.

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

"Taralynne! Taralynne!"

She was being shaken awake by her older sister, Vicky, the next morning. She groaned and held her forehead as she sat up in her bedroom, in her pajamas and everything.

"Ugh, finally! I thought you were dead!" Vicky rolled her eyes, "Hurry up and get up, the chefs are making breakfast."

"Uh, yeah, right. I'll be right down." She said. Her ears were ringing with a migraine, she really didn't feel like hearing Vicky drone on and on right now.

"Hurry up." Vicky said as she left the room.

How am I alive? Tara thought. She'd been killed by Ricky, right. He bit her and drained her, didn't he? She got up out of bed and as soon as she was on her feet, the world began spinning and she was falling to the floor, holding her head in one hand and her trembling body weight with the other. What had he done to her? She felt awful! Tara got up and walked to the bathroom, pulling her shirt to the side, and revealing an infected looking bite mark. The puncture wounds were swollen and red and bruised, and the veins around the area the bite rested in looked black and grey, any color but blue. He had bitten her, but how was she not dead? He should've just killed her off right then and there, right? Unless...

"No," She said to herself, "No, not the alternative. There has to be a third option."

She was only telling herself that because she didn't want to believe he had infected her with something, she knew that. She knew all too well that she was a goner now. Soon, Tara-doll. The words echoed in her mind on repeat. What did he mean? She would be dead soon? She would also be a Reincarnate soon? Does this bite mean he's somehow laid a claim to her? What did any of this mean? Taralynne's mind was running a million miles a minute and she didn't know what to do, what to think, who to even tell, if anyone. Who could she tell about this? Everyone she could trust is dead now- Chris, Josh, Vinny, everyone in her old friend group was gone now, she truly had no one she could open up to about this that wouldn't go blabbing to anyone else. She only had herself right now, and she knew she was going to have to deal with that for the time being.

"Tara! Let's go!" Susan yelled from downstairs.

"Okay! Let me get dressed!" She called down to her mother.

Tara dressed herself into a turtleneck sweater and skinny jeans before heading downstairs where everyone else was already eating. She sat down at the very end of the table and looked down at the empty plate. She wasn't hungry, she felt awful, but if she didn't at least show her face people would catch onto the fact that something was wrong and find out she'd snuck to the cemetery the night prior. She had to keep appearances.

"Hey Tara." Someone said flirtatiously.

"Fuck~." She groaned, "Not now, Michael."

"Why not? Can't I talk to a pretty girl?" Michael tried flirting with her as he always did, "It's about time you got over that damn dead boyfriend of yours."

Those words really hurt Taralynne, and she sighed, "Don't say that. If you want a chance with me at all, you'll leave me alone and never mention Ricky again, understand?"

Michael scoffed, "Oh please, you and I both know you'll stay single forever if I don't woo you."

"Then maybe that's what I want. You should learn that no means no before I take these butter knives and one for each eye." She says, grabbing two butter knives off of the table.

"Jeez, okay." Michael rolls his eyes, "I'm just saying. Maybe give a charmer like me a chance, and I can make you forget all about-"

"Don't fucking say it, Michael." She said, loud enough to catch the attention of those at the table.

Embarrassed and rejected, Michael huffed and stood up, walking back to where he was sitting previously next to Susan while everyone's eyes darted between him and Taralynne. She didn't care though, oddly and unlike usual, she seemed glad people were looking, so he felt embarrassed. Maybe he'd back off at least a little bit.

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

12:00 that afternoon

Taralynne was with Susan in the gardens picking flowers for the inside of the mansion. The smell of death outside can only seep inside for so long before people began loosing their minds, after all.

"You should stop rejecting, Michael, Taralynne. He's a good match for you." Susan said dryly, picking pink roses.

"I won't, mom. I won't stop rejecting him, nor will I ever be with him." Tara said, feeling oddly drawn to the red roses and kneeling down in front of them.

"And why not?"

"Because my heart was buried with the man who owned it." Tara said as she started picking the red roses. She was oddly feeling a lot more agitated by her mother's behavior than she normally would be- she'd been more agitated with everyone in the mansion than she normally would be. She didn't know why, but she figured Ricky's bite had something to do with it.

"Taralynne, grow up and get over the fact that Ricky is dead. No amount of moping is going to bring him back, and you need to move on." Susan said coldly, clearly no regard for Taralynne's feelings in the slightest.

"No, you need to grow up and accept that I'll never love another man like I loved him, and get over the fact that I'm never going to just date another man because I'm single now." Tara snapped.

"Taralynne Michelle, you will move on or I will make you!"

"Make me then!" She shouted, standing up and grabbing the garden sheers and pointing them at Susan, "Try and make me, and see how well it works out for you!"

Susan was stunned silent. Taralynne had never been violent like this, or done anything to suggest she was capable violence in any way shape or form, so seeing her daughter act this way was such a shock to Susan she ran away and back into the mansion. Tara felt oddly...satisfied that her mother had run away like that. It meant she was in charge for a moment, and that felt good. With a satisfied sigh, Tara went back to picking roses and smelling them as she put them in the basket.

Whatever Ricky's bite had done to her, she was hating it. The migraines, throwing up, dizzy spells, and she knew this was only the beginning. She knew there was more to come. Soon she'd understand what Ricky meant when he said...

Soon Tara-doll...

[chansaw]

ok as promised here’s more followup on jackie and misty’s roles in my yellowjackets animorphs au (part 1, part 2) for the like three people who care.

misty FUCKING quigley:

when she found that weird glowing cube half-buried in debris, misty thought it’d probably net her a hundred bucks on ebay and a cool story to brag about to ben and the soccer team. but she could tell there was more behind the team’s faces than the usual frowns that signaled “oh, great, another misty monologue” when she showed it off. and then, natalie scatorccio of all people started watching her - sitting next to her in every class, tracking her movement from across cafeteria, pushing away the kids in purple t-shirts emblazoned with “the sharing” who bug her in the hallway. “it’s very nice of you, but i don’t need a bodyguard,” misty tells her on a break during practice a few days later, as she hands the girls ice cold water bottles. nat just shakes her head and smiles, then walks away without another word.

then, it happens. out of nowhere, while she’s walking back to the car, the kids from the sharing attack her, like physically attack her. a guy she’s pretty sure is on the football team pins her to the concrete while a goth girl from her math class grabs her backpack and starts rooting through it. “i’ll give you a week’s lunch money,” she rasps, “a month! just tell me what you’re looking for!” the goth looks like she’s about to respond when the puma appears from out of nowhere. as if this day couldn’t get any weirder - cougars aren’t even native to new jersey, she thinks to herself as she watches the big cat fend off her attackers. once it’s taken care of the last of them, it turns on misty. there’s a strange glint in its eyes; she braces herself for the end. and then: <what was that you said about not needing a bodyguard?>

like david, misty is made an animorph mostly out of necessity. she’s seen too much, knows too much. and like david, she’s kind of a loose cannon, unpredictable on and off the battlefield. but unlike david, she’s fiercely loyal to her team and willing to do whatever it takes to keep them safe. and she knows things: exactly how much venom to use while in a snake morph to paralyze someone rather than kill them (<though maybe they’ll wish i had killed them!> misty chirps after demonstrating), which birds wouldn’t look too suspicious traveling in a flock together, and how much force a predator needs to bite with to tear someone’s arm clean off. and even though morphing back to human undoes any injuries the team takes while morphed, misty’s field medic knowledge has saved them from a messy death on several occasions. unlike david, she never betrays her team.

jackie taylor, part 2:

“you know, it could be worse,” shauna tells her one time, a day or two after she first gets trapped. she’s setting up the cage (“enclosure,” shauna calls it, but she knows what it is. it’s a cage). jackie’s not sure shauna’s right about that. she misses her body. she misses having opposable thumbs. she misses sleeping in an actual bed, and most of all she misses eating actual food instead of dry-ass hay and grass and shit. that last part’s not a hyperbole, by the way. rabbits and hares eat their own shit. she wishes they’d put that on the sign at the zoo, because she learned about that lovely habit the hard way.

but what probably hurts the most is the fact that she feels so fucking useless. like, aside from the occasional recon or espionage mission, she can’t exactly do much in a fight. she may be hare-brained, but she's not stupid; she sees the way the team looks at her hungrily when they’re in their predator battle-morphs. during one mission, when they head into the woods to investigate the rumors of a rogue faction of taxxons, shauna loses control of her morph, lets the wolf's mind overtake her own. if tai hadn't intervened, jackie knows she would've been a goner. tai tries to reassure her that she’s still an essential part of the team, that she's still good for something. but jackie knows all she's ever been good at, even before she became like this, is running and hiding.

she lives that way for a little over a miserable year. shauna does her best to make it better. she gives her fresh fruit and keeps the tv on for her while she’s away. then, the ellimist (aka space gamer jesus; he’s nearly omnipotent and on the animorphs' side, but can't directly interfere to help them) gives jackie an offer. in exchange for her help in establishing a colony of free hork-bajir, he’ll give her back the power to morph - with the catch that the hare is now her base form. so this leaves her in something of a catch-22; she can go back to being human but trap herself as a nothlit again and deprive herself of the only weapon she has against the yeerks, or keep living as a hare in order to keep morphing, to stay useful. so she compromises; she lives as a human for 2 hours at a time. she miraculously returns from the dead. she goes back to school, and picks up soccer again. every 2 hours on the dot her digital watch beeps and she excuses herself to demorph and remorph, and she sleeps as a hare just to be safe. its a precarious line to tread, but it works. and hey, she can enjoy actual human food again. and she can fight for real now. she picks a grizzly bear as her battle morph, and maybe she fights with a little less panache and grace than her friends, but still. she’s helping. and once this is all over, she’ll finally be able to stop hiding once and for all.

[depressed-sock]

Strays and the Hands that Feed Them  by depressed-sock Part Two ( 8316 words ) Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Darth Maul, Coruscant Guard Clone Troopers & Darth Maul

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Bloodstained Clothes/Armor

Hi holy fuck this turned out longer than expected lol. So for this prompt, I ended up throwing in a reference to it throughout this chapter. So lots of blood-stained clothes and armor mixed in between what kind of sorta a plot

tag warning: lots of murder and implied murder, implied sexual assault (Nothing is shown but there is a part with Thire that starts to head in that direction but is swiftly put to a stop I'd suggest if you don't want to see it to start skipping at "So all Thire and the rest of the Guard can do is make do with what they’ve got." and end "It’s hard to forget a name that fits so perfectly.")

...

It’s later than Fox would like when he finally makes it back to his office. He’s exhausted and tired and wondering how the hell any of this happened in the first place. A senator murdered in their own office shouldn’t be possible during the high traffic hours of the Senate but it’s happened. And whoever did it left the room practically painted in the senator’s dark blue blood.

Fox can’t even say he’s exactly upset by the death itself. It had been one of the problem senators on Fox’s long ‘Only for Qualified Officers’ blacklist. It also happened to be one of the few he actually put a bounty on through a few different shell identities.

So if he really wanted to not deal with the paperwork and investigation involved in this he could just write it off as an enthusiastic bounty hunter. It’s a tempting idea. The only problem is that Fox had specifically requested he wanted this senator alive.

Which means he has an actual security threat he needs to worry about. So instead of the easy route, he has to figure this out before some other fucking senator gets murdered. Or worse, one of Fox’s Guard gets murdered. (Even though it wouldn’t legally be considered murder because fucking clones aren’t legally sentient according to most of the Senate.) So now he’s just fucking pissed off and tired.

To make it worse he had plans for this particular asshole. They had been a kriffing shiny killer in the worst way. Maiming them and making them useless so that they’d get sent back to be decommissioned. There’s only one shiny left standing after having an encounter with them and the only reason Mouse has survived is because Fox has hidden her deep in the Coruscant barracks.

Mouse who had always been soft-spoken and kind. Mouse who loves the little droids that help clean up around the base and Senate. Mouse who continues to refuse any sort of eye prosthetic because she’s terrified of what might happen if she’s able to see again.

Fox won’t lie. He prefers to keep his hands out of most of the situations he orchestrates but this time the loss of shinies and Mouse’s fear had just pissed him off enough that he wanted to get his hands dirty. He had been planing to take his time with this particular senator, wanted to take the fuckers eyes and make him fucking beg for death. Wanted to make sure Mouse knew with absolute certainty the fucker was dead by Corrie hands.

It’s not his usual approach. It is, however, one that’s reserved usually for the real sick fuckers. He could have just as easily set it up to completely ruin the senator’s career but this one had hit too close and it had pissed off not just Fox but the entirety of the Guard. He’d just been waiting for a bounty hunter to take the listing so that there were at least a few steps in between before someone tried to point any accusations at the Guard.

Now that’s not possible.

And if Fox ever finds out this senator was murdered because a bounty hunter decided to bring him in dead rather than alive Fox is going to be pissed. He might even hunt the fucker down for taking Fox’s kill. Considering the body had been left behind though, Fox doubts it was someone trying to cash in the bounty. It looked more like something akin to revenge. Long and drawn out. Painful in the worst ways.

At least he can take solace in that.

He sighs as he sets his helmet down on his desk. Rubbing a hand down his face and steadily ignoring the fact that there’s another presence in his office that is distinctly not a clone. If he doesn’t look up he doesn’t have to acknowledge it. He can just pretend for a second that he can just sit down, get some of his flimsiwork done, and hopefully after that get maybe an hour of sleep.

There’s a chuckle from the direction of his office couch. Like the bastard knows exactly what Fox is thinking.

He looks up to glare at the figure sitting on his couch. Maul’s lips tug up into a feral grin, black tunic opened far enough that Fox can see the swaths of still-wet dark blue blood on the red of his skin. Enough blood that Fox is absolutely certain that it’s soaked into Maul’s clothes. Blood that Maul smears onto Fox’s couch as he leans back, legs spread out and looking all too pleased with himself.

Fox doesn’t know what pisses him off more. The fact that this asshole killed the senator and made more work for Fox, the fact this bastard took his kill, or the fact that the ingrate is getting evidence all over Fox’s good couch. Fucker could have had the decency to wash up and burn his fucking clothes. It’s going to take hours to get those stains out.

“You know I expected you to just fuck off and die somewhere far away from me.” Fox crosses his arms and leans back onto his desk. Ignoring the flimsi and datapads that fall off as he does it. Not like he’s getting any of that shit done with Maul here anyway.

“Where would I get my fun if I did that little Fox? After all, you put so much work into piecing me back together that I thought I should get you a gift.” Maul licks the tip of his fingers and all Fox can think about is how Shivers is going to have so much fun giving this fucker a health inspection later.

Oh, Maul doesn’t realize that he’s getting one yet. He’ll only realize his mistake later. Right now though, he thinks he’s safe but Fox is absolutely certain that he got the Thire and Shivers special when he wasn’t looking and now has a tracker implanted somewhere underneath his skin.

Thire does it to keep track of his enemies. (Fox is not aware if he succeeded with Palpatine and can not confirm or deny any knowledge about any kind of tracker that may or may not be on the old raisin.) Shivers does it so they can track down the rest of their patients who are all known Medbay jumpers.

As far as Fox knows, he personally only has the ones hidden in his armor. He refuses to find out if either of them snuck one under his skin. Mostly for his own sanity, but also because he knows a lot of the troopers who come back from reconditioning are just that paranoid and need something to soothe that part of their brains now.

“You got me a fuck-ton of paperwork is what you got me you asshole. Next time don’t leave a fucking murder scene, hide the body somewhere I won’t find it, and take a fucking shower.” Fox crinkles his nose, “In fact go take one right now and stop ruining my couch.”

“I figured you’d be angrier.” Maul just tilts his head and leans forward, “Considering I took your revenge from you. I remember in great detail what you wanted to do to them.”

Ah, this is drunk Fox’s fault. You fucking idiot, Fox thinks to himself as he glares at Maul.

“You obviously have no problem taking revenge for me,” Fox emphasizes that specifically. Because that kill was definitely done out of revenge and it had to be for the Clones if it was Maul doing it. He’d have no other reason to do it. Fox rolls his eyes and adds, “Considering they’re now dead and no longer my problem I don’t really care.” He cares a little. Not as much as he did because it at least means there’s not some strange murderer running around that might take out the Guard.

Just the crazy stray Thorn picked up that’s murdered someone Fox wanted to murder. Yeah, Fox isn’t sure how exactly that became the better option but here it is.

“There was a bounty put out on them. I assumed you’d like them dead long before they were taken somewhere else,” Maul states it like he expects Fox not to have known that. Which just makes him wonder how much of an idiot Maul thinks he is. But Maul has a look in his eyes like he knows exactly what Fox is going to say next.

Fox adds some poison to his mental shields and hopes it kills Maul slowly.

“I put the bounty on them, di’kut.” Even if he didn’t he would know because Fox knows exactly who in the Senate all have bounties on them for security reasons. Amidala has already surpassed Palpatine by at least ten different bounties with only two duplicates from the same person but placed in different systems. Surprisingly Binks is winning in how much his head is worth to someone on some backwater planet.

Fox has money on it being a shell identity and that it’s a senator who wants him dead. All he knows for sure is that it’s not Palpatine because he would have just had Fox kill the Gungan. Even if he did Fox might have found a way to get out of that assassination attempt because he definitely doesn’t want to test whatever fucking God likes the clumsy thing. With Fox’s luck the Gungan would trip and someone elses gun would suddenly go off and put a bolt through Fox’s head by complete accident.

“You are very clever aren’t you.” Maul’s eyes light up in that sickly familiar yellow and Fox just shakes his head in exasperation.

“Why are you here Maul?” Fox sighs in resignation. Because there has to be something more to all of this.

“Consider this a forward payment. Both for future information,” he licks his lips, eyes still bright before he continues, “and for the help I need. I’m quite familiar with the intricacies of Coruscant but… my brothers are not.” His eyes narrow, “I know I’m not your first… stray,” he sneers the word, “I’m sure you have had others you’ve had to teach. I want you to teach my brothers how to survive here and in exchange, a few of your problems will disappear.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Maul raises an eyebrow ridge. “I can take care of your enemies while you stay in the shadows like you wish to.”

“I can very obviously handle that by myself thank you.” He can. It’s not the first time he’s made a Senator disappear, both under his own will and because Palpatine demanded it of him. It doesn’t matter that those ones had cared about clones. That they’d been fighting for Fox’s and his brother’s rights. They’d been a danger to his Guard because Palpatine was a danger to his Guard.

There’s no place in this galaxy for him to regret protecting his people.

“Besides,” Fox continues, “If you’re just going to leave behind a fucking murder scene then I don’t want your help. You’ll just give us more kriffing work and we don’t need that.”

Maul snorts, “That was because I wanted your attention. You haven’t noticed the other missing senators yet, have you?”

Fox narrows his eyes. Shit, what did he miss? “Who?”

“You’ll find out,” Maul bares his teeth in a facsimile of a grin.

Fox is going to have to look into this. Figure out which senators Maul has taken out of the picture and what kind of headache just got dropped into his lap. He hopes Maul has some sense of self-preservation and hasn’t gone after Palpatine’s closest ‘advisors’.

“Get out and let me think about it.”

“Of course,” Maul stands, walking past and leaving a bloody handprint where he grips Fox’s shoulder. “I’ve left a comn you can use to contact me. Just don’t wait too long little Fox, or I might get too bored to stick around.”

Fox kind of hopes he does get bored, just so that Maul will leave. Then at least Fox could go back to the status quo.

…

Stone sees the stray before it sees him. Which is a surprise considering the force user should sense that Stone’s walking up from behind it. He doesn’t grab it, he’s not that stupid, but he does start to walk beside it down the street. It glances at him from behind its hood, yellow eyes piercing but they have an edge of daze about them that Stone has seen in his brothers before.

It’s the tired soft edge of a long shift. The tell that they're about a few minutes from either passing out. Not a great state to actually talk to a person in but Stone doesn’t have the time to wait for the stary to take a nap.

He tilts his head towards an empty building and they both quietly slip inside. The stray taking position with eyes on the doorway as it leans back against the wall arms crossed. Expectantly waiting for whatever Stone has to say.

“You’ve been going after senators.” Stone knows this to be true despite Fox keeping the information to himself. Hard for Stone not to know what’s been going on because Stone’s watched the footage of the stray slipping in and out of the Senate. He’s also edited it to make the stray a near-ghost in the system. No evidence left behind for anyone else to find.

The stray is quietly watching him. Studying him like he’s done before in Isolation One. Searching for something about Stone even as Stone readjusts his shields. He loses more and more of his own presence to protect his mind. He’s become good at that, becoming just another thing among thousands. Too hard for a single force user to pinpoint.

“Is there something you desire from me, Stone?” Maul lets his words come out in a lazy drawl, studying his claw with an idle unhurried glance.

“Our blacklist has more than just Senator’s on it.”

“Oh does it now?” The stray purrs with interest but doesn’t move from its position. Just tilts his head and narrows its eyes.

“Has Fox taken you up on your offer?”

The stray tilts its head further to the side, “He told you? No,” it grins, “No, he didn’t.” Then it barks out a laugh. “You all are so strange in very different ways, aren’t you? What has your master done to change you? Or were you always like this? Drawn together by circumstance and chance?”

Stone gives it a flat look, “I’ve always been like this.”

“Maybe.” The stray gives a faint nod of acknowledgment, “Maybe you’ve become something more. You’re all quite talented in shielding it makes one wonder what else you might be talented in.”

Stone scrunches his nose making a face of distaste not liking anywhere that sentence would lead. “Do you want the list or not?”

“You seem fairly confident that I’ll do something with it.”

“Because you already are?” Stone says in a confused tone. This is why Fox doesn’t like him near the Senate he can’t play their games when the answer is already obvious. He doesn’t get why anyone wouldn’t just say what they mean. “I also added some things on Skywalker and Kenobi.”

“You’re giving me Fox’s blackmail so that I’ll kill more people for you.” The stray steps up to Stone so that their both chest to chest. Stone’s seen the action before done by others, it’s an action that’s supposed to be intimidating but considering Stone has seen the stray curse out a terrible book series and keep reading it, it doesn’t really work. “I should have expected something more when you said you didn’t care about what the senators do to you. You’re the one to watch out for, aren’t you? The others speak their threats to anyone who will listen and you remain silent in the background. Watching and gathering what you can before you strike.”

“First of all, it’s my blackmail, Fox has his own. He’s got access to information I don’t so you can still have your deal with him.” Stone states, before shaking his head. “Secondly, I get information others can’t get but I don’t act on it. I said before that I can’t afford to do that. I’m not Fox.” He doesn’t want to be Fox either. Fox looks like he’s always ten seconds from dropping dead and Stone doesn’t want that kind of stress in his short life. It’s why Thorn then Thire are next in line for Fox’s position.

And if they all go, then that means something’s gone wrong and Stone won’t be far behind them anyway.

“Here.” Stone hands over the data stick, shoving it into the stray’s hand. It’s the stray’s choice if it does anything with data. What Stone doesn’t say is that he also added everything Fox gathered on Palpatine. All the information, all the data that proves without a doubt that Palpatine is working both sides of the war. It’s Everything that Fox had conveniently forgotten about after the one time he confronted Palpatine.

Stone had originally thought that had been a mistake on Fox’s part. Maybe it still is. But at least this way someone else besides Stone has the information on Palpatine. If Stone has read Maul right, he knows that the information will be used in the best possible way.

Stone had read somewhere that revenge is best served cold.

He hopes Maul can make Palpatine freeze over in terror as his plans crumble into dust around him.

…

There’s a body on the Guard’s doorstep. Dropped right in front of the barracks without a care in the world. Fox for the first time since he’s stepped foot on Coruscant hasn’t been more thankful than now for the barracks to be out of sight of most of the general population. Because that means he can contain the situation and hide any evidence he needs to hide.

There’s only one unaccounted-for factor and it’s the natborn aide that likes to come around and help some of the Guard paint their nails and teach them how to use other cosmetics. They also conveniently happen to bring several crates of whatever packaged food they can get that day. Today was some sort of sweet bread that Fox knows has already gone into several different betting piles.

When the aide first sees the body they pause, stare at it before recognition hits them, then they laugh and tell Fox to keep up the good work before they carry on like they didn’t just step over a senator’s corpse. Fox tries to remember if the aide counts as his stray or Thorn’s and after a moment blames it fully on Thorn, based fully on the fact that Thorn’s strays are all a bit more unhinged than Fox’s.

Fox looks down at the body. The body that is still seeping fresh blood, its clothes slowly growing more and more stained. Fox can only sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose as a headache starts to build.

He’ll get this cleaned up, and then he’ll start looking into any other missing senators.

…

It takes several days to realize who is missing. Who, because apparently it’s not just senators that Maul is targeting now. The first that Fox finds gone is a near-human male Senator who liked to corner Fox’s troopers into rooms by themselves often enough that Fox had finally put his foot down and made sure only he would ever be available for the disgusting bastard. The second is a Rodian woman who worked in Corsec who liked to commit friendly fire on clones and with a personality that makes Sly Moore look nice and pleasant.

Which maybe doesn’t say as much as Fox would like, considering he tolerates Moore more than most. Oh, she’s just as much of a bastard as he is without a doubt but she’s also never touched a single one of his troops or him. Sure she’s done some mind fuckery but she’s a darksider as far as he can tell so that’s expected. It’s tame compared to some of the other assholes Fox has to put up with.

What might be the most concerning part about these people missing is that no one else realizes that they’re gone. Or at least they haven’t realized it yet. It’ll be at least a week before someone does take a second look and notices that they’re not where they said they were going. The only reason Fox knows is because he was looking for it but the Senate Guard and Corsec really should have realized that these people are very much gone from under their noses.

Fox is just glad that none of it can be blamed on the Guard. In fact, it’ll look as if they had a run-in with pirates when they had traveled back to their homeworlds. Since both of them supposedly disappeared on unregistered trips out of Coruscant. Even though Fox knows he saw them recently in the Senate.

It’s good work. Done quietly and without the fanfare of Maul’s other very public murders.

This whole situation makes him think. Mostly about Maul’s offer. It makes Fox wonder if it has to extend to the Senate or if Maul would be willing to go after other targets.

Because there’s one that’s been on the top of his list for the last month after Fox had saved a Vod from decom and hidden them away in one of his safehouses. The 534th Commander had, according to the file, become defective and unable to carry out his duty. An understatement considering the shape Fox had found him in.

Fox thinks this one was one of his most horrifying recuses yet. The Guard has never had someone they know come through on a recon or decom order from the GAR. There’s always one or two every once in a while but never a batchmate or friend. So when this one ended up being Thorn’s missing batchmate who Thorn had thought cut off contact with him... Well, it had been heartbreaking to watch Thorn try to interact with his Vod who barely responded to outside stimuli.

It’d taken hours to get any kind of answers from him. It turns out all of the 534th are terrified of contacting anyone out of their battalion. Afraid to make an already bad situation worse. The poor Vod looks like he’s gone through several years of guarding the Senate’s worst. Haunted and broken in ways only the Guard really understands.

Fox fiddles with the comn unit in his hand. Studies it carefully.

He could figure out a way to deal with Krell eventually. It would be more difficult than a senator who he could easily find blackmail on but it would be doable. The only problem is that Fox doesn’t think the vode in that battalion have the time to spare for Fox to get said blackmail. Not when the situation has begun to rapidly deteriorate according to Jackal.

Fox fidgets, grip tightening on the comn unit before he puts it down on his desk. He starts on his next round of flimsiwork, ignoring the device. He barely lasts a few minutes before he picks it up again. Then with a sigh he gives in with a simple press of a button and Maul appears on the holo. Maul who grins at him with sharp teeth and a look of pure satisfaction.

Fox narrows his eyes as he thinks about how he’s already regretting this. But this is something he actually needs help with and if Maul wants to prove his worth this is the best way. Besides Maul might not be able to go up against Palpatine but surely he’d be able to take out Krell. And as a bonus, it’ll hopefully take him off Coruscant long enough for any investigations to blow over. “How would you feel about taking out a Jedi?”

…

Thorn feels like this is some kind of cosmic payback. It has to be because there are currently two Zabrak sitting in the Guard Commander’s combined office and he’s the only one currently here to deal with them. Because Fox is meeting a contact with Slick and Thire is on Senate duty and Stone is sleeping for the next two hours. And there are two Zabrak now staring at Thorn expectantly in their shades of orange-yellow with black markings that Thorn doesn’t want to think about.

Thorn thinks the worst part is that these two might just be the consequences of his own actions.

He figured that Maul would have just fucked off permanently. Found somewhere much better to be than here in the shithole that is Coruscant. Thorn really wouldn’t have blamed the Zabrak for that! It’s not like the Guard could have just kept him in the Isolation one forever. Eventually, someone would have come sniffing around.

Besides what the fuck were they supposed to do with him? Thorn knows he might be a little bit of a hypocrite for thinking that considering it was originally his plan to keep and use Maul. But to be fair! That doesn’t mean he actually knew what to do with him. At least, they got some extra protection for their minds. That was one good thing about that whole situation. After that though, they had ended up floundering with what else they could get out of Maul.

So Fox got the Zabrak a pair of cybernetic legs and let him fuck off to who knows where. Figuring that Maul would find a way to remove the force suppressor on his own and far away from the Guard. You know, just in case Fox’s theory about Maul kind of losing his mind because of something to do with Palpatine and the dark side of the force turned out to be true.

It’s why Fox never offered to fully remove it. Anf Thorn fully agrees with that decision. He does not want to deal with more of bitey Maul than he’s already dealt with. His vambrace still has puncture marks he hasn’t had time to fix.

Anyway… So Maul left and now there are two Zabrak sitting in Thorn’s shared office and they’re staring at him.

“Hello?” He says weakly confused as he stares right back at them from behind the protection of his helmet. Maybe these two, very obviously related to Maul, Zabrak aren’t actually related to him. Maybe Thorn’s finally hitting Fox’s level of sleep deprivation where he starts seeing hallucinations.

Maybe the big fucker who’s standing up and towering over Thorn won’t fucking snap him in half and suck out his insides.

Or maybe he will and Thorn can finally fucking sleep for more than a few hours at a time.

Maker, he should piss off one of those senators who like to send them to isolation. He could use a fucking break.

“Our brother sends his regards, “ the big one narrows his eyes. “He said you will teach us the ways of Coruscant.”

Oh, fuck that bastard. “Sorry, I don’t know your brother. We only take in stray tookas here, not failed darkers.” Thorn might not be able to talk about Sith lords but the old raisin didn’t think about all the other words to describe himself and others like him. Honestly, big mistake on that asshole’s part.

The smaller more normal-sized Zabrak steps up beside his brother, placing a hand on the big fuckers arm and giving a weak smile to Thorn, “He said that the Fox approved it because Maul promised to deal with Krell?”

Oh, that fucking bastard. Fox hadn’t even told Thorn he was planning something for Krell soon. It doesn’t exactly surprise him, considering Fox just stopped Thorn’s batchmate from getting decommissioned like a month ago and Jackal’s a fucking mess. His hands still shake and his eyes look so very dead, like Krell had taken away some important part of him. Jackal had wanted to go to Kamino and it took everything Thorn had to pull him back to just to convince him to stay here for at least Thorn’s sake.

He fucking hates that it came to that. Hates that Jackal will never be the same. The only good thing that came out of the situation was Nexus and Malware who Fox had found trying to hack into Kamino and Guard systems trying to save their commanding officer from his fate.

Malware had gone back to Krell’s battalion but Nexus had stayed. They haven’t left Jackal’s side for a single instance and Thorn isn’t going to complain about it. Especially considering Nexus is another point to anchor Jackal back to himself.

Now Thorn is stuck here instead of by his batchmate's side. Because his batchmate got sent to the Squad Stray safehouse where everyone’s a criminal even if they’re not yet. At least Jackal doesn’t ever have to worry about a natborn being a commanding officer ever again. The twin Twi’leks who are definitely not Thorn’s kids but who are also very much Thorn’s kids are also helping with that readjustment.

“He also did mention that you were all possibly insane.” The tall Zabrak glowers in a way that reminds Thorn so much of Maul. Kinda makes that tired unhinged part of his brain want to squash the Zabrak’s cheeks together.

Also fucking pot meet kettle Maul you fucking hypocrite.

“Right ok,” Thorn takes off his helmet specifically so he can pinch the bridge of his nose. “Let's start with names. I’m Thorn and you are...”

“Savage,'“ The tall one growls.

“Feral.” The nice one smiles weakly.

Ok, Thorn can work with this. He can definitely do this. He will also, while doing this, will make a plan to get Fox back for this whole situation. There had been plenty of time to warn him about this Fox, you motherfucker.

…

Thire has been reconditioned twice in his life. The first time was shortly after an escort mission for General Yoda. After that one, he’d had trouble remembering names for months. He still does, though it tends to be natborns whose names don’t really stick around in his head anymore. It’s easier to give them numbers. Senator Blacklist #1, Whitelist #12, Corsec #30, and so on and so forth.

The only reason General Yoda’s name stuck is because Rys and Jek like to talk about that mission, like to reminisce even if Thire can barely remember a few minutes of what happened. It also helps that General Yoda asks after them all, checks in, and makes sure they’re all okay. He still does it even when Thire lies to his face about being fine and knowing exactly who General Yoda is.

The second time Thire was reconditioned was right before he was promoted to Commander. He doesn’t remember the reason for it. He thinks it was Enemy #1 who ordered it, thinks that it wasn’t really a punishment for Thire but for one of the other Commanders he’s close to.

There is one thing that he does know for certain about that second reconditioning. That whoever he was before he can never really be that person again. Mostly because after that one something went wrong with Thire’s head that was worse than forgetting names.

Thire knows he wasn’t always this paranoid or angry before it happened. Knows it in the pitying looks he gets from the others when he starts muttering to himself just before he starts stockpiling supplies in some hidden corner of the base. Knows it in the way Fox promoted him immediately after Thire came back from Kamino and started talking back at the Senators when he couldn’t wrangle his anger in.

Knows that Fox did that so that Thire could never be reconditioned again and come back somehow worse than what’s already happened. Or be decommissioned for that matter, but that was less of a threat nowadays even for the newly added shinies. Nowadays they just send them somewhere else and make them blend in because only a few people actually check if a trooper has been decommissioned. And even if they get one of those fuckers who like to make sure a trooper is dead they have enough dead bodies in the basement that it’s easy enough to switch numbers if they need to.

So there’s really no need to worry anymore.

Now Thire’s anger and paranoia are just a quirk he can’t be punished for. It doesn’t matter that Thire has access to a tracking system that tells him exactly where every Guard is at all times. It doesn’t matter when Thire inevitably snaps and beats the shit out of the first GAR to dare bad mouth Fox in 79’s on Thire’s off days. It doesn’t matter that on the really bad days Thire can only trust Fox and the other commanders and that on the worse days Thire shoves himself into a corner with his stockpiled supplies where no one will ever find him.

None of it matters because Fox has made it as safe as he can. And even then there will always be things that hurt the Guard because nothing about their situation will ever change for the better.

The Enemies might not be able to force Thire to be different. But there are still rules he knows he has to follow because no matter how safe you think you are, you really aren’t. Not here, where no one but your fellow Guard will try to save you.

There are plenty of ways to die here on Coruscant. An angry senator with too much strength, shot in the lower levels, taken by slavers, trampled in a riot. Plenty of other ways to also have the will to live slowly sucked out of your soul too. Just standing long enough in the Senate’s halls is usually enough to do that.

So all Thire and the rest of the Guard can do is make do with what they’ve got.

Like right now.

Watchlist #15 is on Fox’s list because she’s been slowly getting braver. Touches here and there on trooper’s armor, comments that leave even seasoned troopers shuddering in fear of what’s going to come when the teasing finally stops. She’s been getting braver and Thire knows with absolute certainty that this is the week she’s going to take it too far. It’s not paranoia if it’s the truth.

It’s why he’s put himself on the Guard schedule to be around her. If there’s going to be a fall out he’s not going to let a shiny take that hit. Thire himself has never had it happen to himself either but he knows he’ll handle it better than a shiny would. The others try to protect him just as much but inevitably they all experience some version of this bullshit.

He thinks mostly, that they just don’t want him to finally snap and go on a murder spree with Shivers. What they don’t know is that he and Shivers have a plan and it involves explosives and everyone in the Guard being off planet when that happens. They’re still working out the logistics of how to get the Guard off Coruscant, they’ve debated telling one of Fox’s batchmates so that maybe the Vod can help steal a cruiser from one of the battalions. But Thire doesn’t trust them to keep their mouths shut.

So the plan is a work in progress. Something better to focus on than Watchlist #15. Who hasn’t noticed that Thire has been ignoring her the entire time she’s been talking at him. It’s only when she looks up and down the hall and notices no one else that she orders him to her office. He follows behind. Perfect posture, perfect stride. Nothing out of place, nothing to critique.

A part of him just wants to put a bolt through her head and not deal with any of this. It would be so easy too. None of these bastards ever expect the Guard to defend themselves. And if Thire makes the murder look messy enough he might even be able to get away with claiming it was the same murderer who got Senator Blacklist #3 just a couple of weeks ago.

He steps into her office when she opens the door and waves him through with a smile and a glint in her eyes. She closes the door behind herself then she locks it and is quiet as she passes him, fingers dragging along his shoulder. She hums in satisfaction as she leans back against her desk, studying him.

“Take off your armor.”

He tries not to think as he does it. Just focuses on the clips and straps as he drops the pieces to the ground in a semi-orderly pile. When he steps out of his boots he returns to a parade rest. Still in his blacks because she only said his armor and Thire hates her too much to give her more than an inch.

She frowns at him, anger sparking in her eyes but she can’t hold his attention. Not as he stares straight past her shoulder and into the shadows just behind her.

She sighs before pushing off her desk, “You meat droids really do only follow orders to the letter don’t you?” She grips his chin and tries to force him to look her in the eyes. He refuses too, but also he can’t when there’s something so much better to look at. The shadow just behind her is as familiar to Thire as any of his brother’s faces.

Because Thire is paranoid. Because Thire keeps an eye on not just his brothers but also his enemies.

Just as the senator opens her mouth, about to demand something more, Enemy #2 slides up behind her, grabs her by her hair, and slices a line across her neck. Thire stares as blood hits his face. Stares as it drips down his face and soaks into the collar of his blacks.

It’s only now that he meets her eyes and watches the panic that hits her. She tries to claw back at the hand holding, tries to tell Thire to help her. Save her. But all that comes out is a dying gurgle. The light in her eyes dims as blood pours down her throat, soaks into the white of her clothes turning it a sick facsimile of the Coruscant Guard colors.

Thire watches her die, watches Enemy #2 drop her body to the floor, watches and watches and watches. Enemy #2 cleans the blade on his black tunic and eyes Thire as if expecting some kind of reaction from him.

Thire looks him in the eyes. Thire says nothing as he grins back at Maul.

It’s hard to forget a name that fits so perfectly.

…

“Where is your brother by the way?” Thire asks as he leads his two new additions down one of the matenice tunnels out of the Guard’s offices and to the streets of Coruscant where these two will be much less obvious.

“He said something about slitting throats before he ran off and left us here.” Savage growls ducking under a pipe and scowling when the edge of his horns still catches it with a soft clang.

Thorn stops to look back at them. Feral gives him an awkward smile and Thorn curses in his head as he mutters to himself, “I’m going to have to look into that later. Fuck.”

…

Fox comes to himself as he’s walking down some empty alleyway in the lower levels of Coruscant. He sighs, heavy and tired as he takes in the aches and pains that come from over-exertion. A sign that whatever he was doing before had to have been more complicated than what Palptine usually uses him for nowadays.

Because Palpatine doesn’t give him blackout missions anymore unless he wants it to be messy. The old bastard figured out pretty quickly that Fox would do anything for his brothers but has a tendency to put his victims out of their own misery with a quick death. CC-1010 however has no qualms with torture when Palpatine orders it.

He doesn’t look down at his armor. Doesn’t take stock of his status. Fox knows there’s going to be blood. The question is whether it’s his own, someone else’s, or some sick mix of both.

He opens up his messages checking through to quickly take stock of what emergencies might have happened while he’s been out of it. Nothing major, a few red alerts but they're all from the GAR emergency system. There is a single message from an unknown contact that catches his eye.

It’s done.

He stares at the message. Then he glares at it and the red alerts that keep popping up on his feed. He’s got a suddenly bad feeling about this.

Before he can think too hard about it a comn comes through from Thorn.

Fox answers it with a quick, “I’m back from a blackout.” Because, unlike some other people, he knows protocol.

“Shit, I was wondering why you haven’t been answering for the last few hours. I’ll tell Shivers to be ready for you.”

“Thanks,” Fox breathes out and closes his eyes, ignoring the sudden headache pounding behind his eyes, “What did you need Thorn?”

Thorn hesitates a second before he says, “Thought you’d like to know that our Stray made headlines today.”

“Please tell me he didn’t do what I think he did.” Fox feels like hitting his head against the nearby wall. Should have specified he wanted Krell taken out quietly, should have fucking specified quietly. Maybe if he hits his head at the right angle and just hard enough he’ll just never wake up from this nightmare.

“I have never seen anyone so fucking dramatic before Fox. It was verging on the edge of hysterically funny when he claimed he was going to cleanse the Jedi of their tainted roots since apparently they can’t do that themselves just before he beheaded Krell.”

“I kriffing hate this man,” Fox groans, “I thought he would quietly assassinate him not make a fucking production.”

Thorn laughs. “You thought the guy who left a senator’s office covered in their own blood would be subtle?"

“He did fine with all the other murders he committed.” Fox rolls his eyes even though Thorn can’t see him. Thorn’s right, of course, Fox doesn’t know why he expected anything different.

“Wait… what other murders?”

Oh, That’s what Fox has been forgetting to do. He’ll need to catch the other commanders up on what’s going on. Even though Fox knows Stone has figured it out and with the way Thire has been claiming the Maul is now his stray Fox can guarantee Thire knows something. Probably helped with that something too.

“Exactly,” Fox says because if Thorn never figured it out that means no Natborn would. Thorn’s smarter than any of Corsec or the Senate Guard combined but Stone and Thire are just on a whole level of crazy that no one else can keep up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Thorn asks with confusion rather than any kind of hurt.

“Honestly forgot but you might want to keep the plausible deniability considering Maul’s gone public with the fact that he’s alive.” Fox takes a step towards the end of the alley before he stumbles and realizes maybe he should sit down for a little. “I’m pretty sure Thire’s already involved with one of Maul’s murders so we probably don’t need anyone else getting in the middle of all of this.”

He slides down the wall, right hand automatically covering his left side. He hadn’t realized how dizzy he was until just this moment.

“Oh, is that why Thire has actually been using Maul’s name?”

“If I had to guess, yeah.” Fox breathes in through his mouth and out through his nose. He lifts his hand up. Dark red blood drips down through the cracks of his gauntlet. “Thorn, I need a pickup.”

“Fuck, Fox where-”

He doesn’t hear the rest as he slides fully down the wall and into darkness.

…

Thire has a hand on Maul’s bicep as he drags him into the barracks, all while ignoring the worried looks everyone is giving him. He’d found the Zabrak while out on patrol looking dazed and not fully there. Dissociation. Shivers had to look up that one after the first couple of times they found Fox like that.

So Thire is doing something he’s never done before. He’s shoving down his paranoia and helping the fucker who helped him. Mostly by dragging the bastard into one of the vode’s cuddle piles.

It’ll be fine because it’s Thire that’s dragging him into the room. It’ll be fine because Thire’s paranoia rivals Fox’s and therefore would never do something to put any of his brothers in danger.

There are already several groups set up. Hound passed out between his two shinies plus Mouse who is curled up in his arms lying directly on top of him with Grizzer lying on their legs. Mouse must have had another panic attack. Thire winces in sympathy but moves on to his target.

Fox is in Thorn’s arms, head tucked and hidden from view, with new bruises running down his back and a bandage wrapped around his stomach. Thire knows that Fox has had a blackout mission recently. He also knows how long it takes for Fox to come back from that. He doesn’t know what Enemy #1 does to Fox but even after an assassination blackout Fox comes back with a worse headspace then he left with.

It makes Thire want to do something stupid. Makes him want to stab the old bastard in the throat until he can’t speak ever again. He breathes. Forces himself to swallow down his anger. Not the time. Not yet.

He turns back to look at Maul whose gaze is a bit steadier. Then Thire points to where Thorn and Fox are, “Get in the fucking cuddle pile.” Instead of waiting for a reply and because Thire doesn’t want an argument he shoves the Zabrak down and ignores the yelps that come from Thorn and Fox when the Zabrak lands on them.

So far so good, Thire thinks to himself with a proud little smile.

…

Maul has never liked being touched. Touch was usually a precursor to pain because it taught and it punished and it made Maul stronger. But he hates it. It’s no different in this situation, even though not a single clone here is trying to harm him.

Just the barest brush of skin against his makes him want to flay off the part of him that burns and crawls. He could escape this, the angry clone clearly left him with an escape route. Worse comes to worse he could just as easily fling them all away with a wave of his hand.

He doesn’t. Instead, he allows the angry clone to cling to him, head nuzzled just under Maul’s jaw. It shouldn’t mean anything. He shouldn’t even care. But the angry one’s mind is an open book and he feels safe around Maul. To him Maul is safety and he’s not the only clone in this blasted pile of bodies that feels this way.

It makes him want to scoff, to deny everything, and burn their trust to the ground. Make them regret ever finding Maul, ever helping him.

Then Fox slips an arm over Maul’s side and pulls him flush to the clone’s chest. It burns in the worst way possible. A feeling that can’t ever be soothed by time or recovery. It makes Maul seeth in anger.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t attempt to escape. Instead, he tries to relish in the hate he feels. Only to find the feeling slipping away. Turning into something more akin to awe.

This is an intimacy he has never felt before, and one he’s absolutely certain the clones don’t share except with a select few outsiders. Even then, he’s certain that only he has been pulled into the heart and safety of the Guard’s home like this. It brings forth a feeling that he can’t name or describe.

He swallows the lump in his throat and pretends he doesn’t pull the angry one closer like he can protect the clone from whatever wishes to hurt him.

Maul remembers his lessons. He could never forget them with the way they’ve been seared into his head by Sidious’s teaching methods. His instincts tell him that he should use these clones for all they’re worth and then discard them. That it is the way of the dark side not to trust even your allies. To use those around you to gain more power then discard the pawns that have become useless.

But in those lessons, he also remembers the rants and mockings of his old master about the Jedi and their code. One thing in particular draws Maul’s mind as he falls deeper into the calm the clones surround him with. The Jedi claim that attachments will lead to the dark side. It makes him wonder why his old Master has no such attachments. Why he doesn’t attempt to grasp that supposed strength.

Maul licks his dry lips and thinks as his fingers move through the angry clone’s hair. Claws just barely scrapping the clone’s scalp. He could be stronger than Sidious. Could be more powerful then any Sith before him.

He has all these attachments he could take. All of them within reach and spread throughout Coruscant as they work. Alive and breathing and hurting. He can use that.

Use this anger that bubbles up from somewhere deeper than his own hatred.

He will become more powerful than Sidious and all it will take is falling deeper into the dark side for these clones.

[number1villainstan]

Alright Katsukame headcannons, here we go (this is gonna be scattered and all over the place because I don’t have any of these written down, this is just what I can remember)

He takes in dogs from fighting rings that have been injured and thrown out, because their owner was a dick to the dog in front of Rikiya, or because they were a dick to Rikiya and he wants to steal the dog to teach them a lesson (and give the dog a good home)

Most of the time he ends up Rehabilitating the dogs and finding them new homes, though he has a few he thinks are too fragile, disabled or traumatised to go else where that he begged Overhaul to let him keep (they have to sleep outside in their own little shed and they’re not allowed in the same room as kai, even then, he’s only allowed to keep them because Kai has somewhat of a soft spot for rikiya)

Because of this he also has a lot of experience in training dogs, because before he realised it’s basically impossible to get a job in Japan if you have/had Yakuza ties, or have been in it, he wanted to be a professional dog trainer and took a ton of courses to learn everything.

Despite all that, his favourite animals are actually foxes and silver back gorillas.

The reasoning for the gorillas is because kids in school used to make fun of him and call him one, so he decided to basically give them a giant ‘fuck you’, researched gorillas a ton, and now they’re one of his favourites and being called one is more of a compliment than anything. That was his one single act of rebellion agains the other kids. The foxes is because he thinks they look like really pretty dogs (and also because he’s not about to fuck around with a Kitsune and be cursed for a thousand years)

Leading on from that last bit, he’s a little bit superstitious. Not hugely, but if something looks incredibly obviously cursed or mythical, he’s not gonna touch it with a 10 foot pole. He knows that the random creaks or rustles at 3am are probably just animals outside, or Rappa doing some late night training, and the foot steps running up and down the halls on a floor that doesn’t exist in the compound, are just weird echos of Setsuno and Tabe being idiots in the middle of the night, but that dog he’s never seen before that’s been sat at the garden fence staring at him with eyes that look just a bit too human for a solid five minutes? There’s something up with that.

He’s partially mute, only ever saying one or two words at a time when he does speak. He carries around a notebook and pen to communicate a lot of the time. He also knows sign language, but out of the Hassaikai, only Hari, Deidoro and Overhaul know it, overhaul and Chrono having learnt it because of him, so it’s not the best form of communication because if one of those three aren’t around to translate, it’s basically useless. (Tengai is trying to learn but he’s blind in one eye and needs contacts for the other so it’s..not a good combination) (that’s another thing. I have a MASSIVE stockpile on Tengai stuff so lmk if you want those too)

Not a lot of people expect it but he can be surprisingly gentle and sensitive if he chooses to be. On the rare occasions he interacted with Eri, he’d let her sit on his back where Mimic usually does and would carry her around like that. He liked being with her because she wouldn’t question anything, like why he never took his mask off, why he didn’t speak, why he rarely interacted with anyone but Kai, Mimic and Hari. He just didn’t and the reasoning didn’t matter.

He really loves small things, which might be why him and mimic work together so often. He likes tiny things he can hold in one Hand, he likes feeling like he’s protecting something. Probably another reason he and Eri got on.

Despite the last hc, he doesn’t like mimic all that much. Well. He does…just until he starts talking. He’s always on edge when Mimic talks because he doesn’t know when/if he’s going to blow up and start yelling, it’s worse when he’s in his human form though. At that point, he’ll just leave the room. He doesn’t need that kind of stress.

No one is actually quite sure what’s going on with his mask. As far as Kai and Hari are aware, he’s not taken it off around anyone else since he got it his early teens. Kai appreciates the commitment, but is a bit concerned it isn’t washed. Hari wants to know why he never took it off.

He hated being in pictures when he was younger- and still does- (*cough cough* autism *cough*) so he’d hide his face whenever someone tried to take a picture of him, as a result, no one really remembers what he looks like under it, as all baby photos there were of him were ‘accidentally’ lost in a move.

Setsuno started a theory he’s like the Pokémon Mimikyu: he’s so horrific looking under the mask, that if anyone sees it they die instantly. Though, He’s not come up with a reason as to why overhaul and Chrono are still alive yet.

Him and Rappa have a weird relationship, they’re either best friends or trying to kill each other and there’s no middle ground. The best friend end of the spectrum usually consists of them training together, playing with Rikiya’s dogs, tormenting Tengai and overhaul, and the trying to kill each other..well..that’s about it. No one quite knows what triggers the switches in their attitudes towards each other, potentially just their general mood that day, and Tengai isn’t sure What he finds more annoying, being tormented or trying to get them to stop tormenting each other.

I think that’s all I have for now, but I’ll let you know if I think of/remember anything else.

I LOVE ALL OF THESE HEADCANONS. (Yeah, Kai really doesn't like dogs.)

Also send me the Tengai headcanons too...and anyone else who wants to dump Shie Hassaikai headcanons in my inbox. I absolutely will not mind.

[kobblefort]

Blackfaint: Origins 1

The Hill of Scars is wide, its western half already filled to the brim with settlements of all kinds - humans, kobolds, Stella elves, lapines and even dwarves. Its most fertile and welcoming lands have been snatched up long ago, and so anyone who wishes to strike out has only the barren eastern plains and dunes left to them. You can barely see it amidst all the outposts, fortresses, towns and cities and hamlets and villages, but the yellow square east of the Gulf of Mastery's inlet and just south of the river marks a new one; or at least, an attempt at one. Caring not how close they set out to either the humans' tower to the west or the kobold fort Ripekills to the east, a new outpost is established by a small group that broke off from their larger one.

From The Nightmare of Tunneling comes yet another little group of outcasts: The Seducer of Dimpling, settling the little patch of terrifying untamed wilds they will call Vrikrokoki: "Blackfaint."

As you might notice, we got started early. I had to hack the "Additional Races: Ratfolk" mod from the Steam Workshop myself to make them playable, and unfortunately, this for some reason means I can't set any nobles and administrators. I tried a few times, but it's no good - I think I fixed the problem, but I would need to generate a whole new world to fix it, and after all the time I've put into this one already we are not doing that. So we head straight in, where before anything else...

We're dealing with this aquifer as fast as possible, which for now will make the main stairway incredibly fucking dangerous. We'll be fixing it with a bunch of wooden grates, of course, but until then, better hope nobody gets too drunk. Even though all we brought to drink was dark elven vodka.

Our administrator, or caravan leader if my hack wasn't such a, well, hack, is Kirra Halllies. Though she's strong, she doesn't actually like getting into physical confrontations. She's humble, thoughtful, and more hopeful than your average rat. However, she's quick to form negative views about things, and finds the pursuit of art to be a waste - even though art and natural beauty often moves her.

It'ikik Ghoulscar, our woodcutter and carpenter, in addition to everything you see here: likes magnetite, platypus leather, the color scarlet, flails, shields, and amulets, and prefers to drink tomatillo wine. He also hates lizards.

K'keek Vicescourge is an awesome fucking name. I have incredibly high hopes for this anxious egoistic mess of a rat.

Kikeek Menacebreeds is another awesome name, and is something of a space case. She has less of a warlike view of the world than most ratfolk.

Eetekak Strikehate (how do these names keep getting better) doesn't take things personally, but that's for better and for worse.

Eeteek Seduceworked seems useless to me. Why would ratfolk farm?? Ratfolk pillage!!!

And last but possibly not least, Eeteek Terrorslip is a chronic oversharer who can't take care of herself and cracks under pressure. She's literally me. I'm actually worried about how similar she is to me. Well except me personally I always experience strong cravings or urges. The more I read of this panel the more upset I get because I don't want to get too attached here; this is a "Terrifying Untamed Wilds" biome we've settled in after all, and we're headed straight into the first cavern layer.

The first thing to dig out is a meeting area. We've got no livestock to worry about keeping alive, but we've got to work kind of quickly against the aquifer: the quick and dirty drain is already spilling over a bit.

It's a bit of a crap solution, and we'll have to make sure to fix it up properly so that it can drain off the map soon, but we don't even have beds or a place to drink vodka. On the plus side, the drain acts as a "mist generator" for a free and easy mood boost. Well, again, not free, I could totally end up fucking flooding the entire base, but who cares, we're fucking rodents. We're here for a bad time, not a long time. Our lifespans are already pitifully brief, there is no point to not just fucking around and doing whatever we want. Kobbles might fancy themselves to be silly creatures but they get so serious about rocks and dragons and shit. But this is rat world. You've entered the rat world. And here in the rat world we do things a little fucking differently heh heh you know "Fuck it!!!" That's basically the rat world motto, you just say "Fuck it!!!" three exclamation points of course - Just fucking kidding dude!!!!! You can use as many exclamation points as you fucking want in rat world!!!!!! I just owe it to you to keep it real with you man rat world is a little different, we do things a little different in rat world.

Rat world also kind of fucking sucks man I just gotta keep it real with you like there's barely anything to fucking eat in rat world, and we have to plant seeds and shit like chumps because well it kind of really just fucking sucks in rat world. Not a single tree on this entire 3x3 embark tile seems to be able to give fruit, it's the middle of summer and yeah nothing man, rats don't really get to have fruit here in rat world which kind of sucks.

We're planting cave tubers and quarry bushes like fucking assholes, LOL. Gotta do what you gotta do in rat world though.

A fucking bunch of dudes show up to rat world which is pretty tight because there's like no food and we all sleep on the ground., But thats' kind of how shit goes in rat world sometimes LOL I'm actually like super worried about how we're going to get food going on in rat world but maybe if we just head straight for the first cavern layer we'll be able to get some grub on without running into too many like fucked up little cavern dwellers or forgotten beasts.

It doesn't take long either which is fucking tight it's literally just 13 layers below our little "main chill zone" area. We'll need to wall off what we call a "chill area" for specifically non-tweak kinds of creatures (us) to get away if tweak kinds of creatures (forgotten beasts) start throwing the vibes off, possibly with like doors or some such shit.

Honestly rat world is kind of popping off right now, we've got like economic forces impacting shit and shit which is honestly like, tight. The food number got down to like 8 for a second but we popped it back up to ~30 which is awesome. Since we can't get a bookkeeper or whatever we'll never like, actually know for sure what kind of numbers are going on, unless getting whatever our version of a "mayor" is finally gives us back the Nobles & Administrators window, but yeah right now we're kind of just chilling hard with cavern access and shit.

The bedroom layout is going to be "A little different" lol as most things in rat world are - I figure the "windmill villas" is a bit complicated for rats really and how much space do they need, it's chill to just leave your shit whereever you like in rat world nobody cares, so you don't need a cabinet or a chest, basically just a door and a bed should be good enough. You can't go around expecting too much shit in rat world like you get what you get in rat world. The resting heart rate of a rat ranges from 250 to 400 beats per minute if you can fucking believe that. That's just how things go in rat world it's a fast-paced life you live you die. Ok. And more important than anything you gotta party in rat world, rat world is ALL ABOUT PARTYING.

The "tavern" is now called The Black Oats. There's still nowhere to stand but people finally started having mugs to drink out of. Even guys who "disdain merriment" have to do at least a little dancing in rat world. The two customary dances in The Nightmare of Tunneling are The Berry of Glossing and The Vermilion Flute.

I still don't know how to parse these, my brain just can't convert this into imagery, sorry.

Our carpenter decides to make a crutch called "Drenchedgear the Prairies of Insight" which is fine. Nothing too interesting about it and we don't really have a concept of "value" in rat world so it's no problem. Just a cool thing we have now I guess - Fuck it!!!!!

The somewhat phallic aquifer drain is safely completed. A miner got kind of wet in the process but it's fine. There's also floodgates at the south end with a lever attached just in case I want to drown out the entire first cavern layer or something later; idk you have to be ready for things.

THIS DUDE'S NAME IS SRAKEEK STOLENCACTI!!!!

I'm going to bed now

[deyadee]

What Am I Even Supposed to Do?

I was watching this YouTuber that I usually watch. I always assumed she was a few years older than me, only to find out in a video I was watching a bit ago that she’s actually only a year older than me. I just felt this pit in my chest that hit out of nowhere. In a year most people would expect me to be at that stage. She can drive on her own, lives on her own, is out of college, and has an actual fucking job. I have none of that. Sure I’ve had a job before, and I keep saying that I’ll get another- but I’m fucking lazy and never actually try. I’m just scared I’m gonna be miserable.

I haven’t gone to college because I didn’t know what I wanted to do and decided it was pointless to go to college just to go for nothing when nowadays a lot of jobs don’t require it or they expect fifteen years of experience on top of it.

I haven’t moved out both because I’ve never had the money but also I know… if I do go out and live on my own I’ll end it all in the first week. I look out on my life and think “Is this it? You work until you die and you have no friends and nothing to live for while the few people you do care about slowly drift away?” How are people even expected to start living on their own anymore when everything’s so fucking expensive? I know the day I get my own place I’ll maybe survive a day then I’ll blow my brains out. I can’t imagine living on my own. I’ll spiral and think of how I’m fucking useless and life is just fucking misery and I’ll end it. At least when I’m here I can imagine the horrified faces of my family if they found my body. In my own place it would take them at least a little bit before they found out. There’d be no one to stop me but myself. I know I’m a fucking pussy and I’ll stop myself cause I’m terrified of the pain, but I know one day I’ll finally do it. I’ll be fed up with hating myself and being lonely and end it all. I’m not scared of dying. I’ve just always been scared of the pain or if I fuck it up. I don’t know how long you live after you pull the trigger, but I can’t fathom the pain. It makes me physically sick.

Though if I keep staying here nothing will get better. I’ll be that fucking loser that’s wasting her life away in her parent’s house and can’t do fucking anything for herself. I already know I’ll die alone cause I’m fucking ugly, asexual/don’t want sex, boring, don’t do drugs, don’t drink, and have the mind of a fucking twelve-year-old- if I add on a fucking loser that lives with her parents and can’t drive then I KNOW I’LL FUCKING DIE ALONE.

Maybe some fucking fairy-tale movie scenario could happen where I just find the person girl who loves me and I can be her housewife or something- but that’ll never goddamn happen. If a girl wanted a housewife she’d want a pretty one who’d fuck her. She’d want anyone who isn’t me. So I know I’ll end up miserable in a marriage I don’t want to a dude where I just shut my mouth and get assaulted. Have kids that fucking hate me. Have them fuck up my body even worse. Until they and shithole husband leave me for someone not fucking fat and ugly and I shoot myself in a hotel room- no one to remember or care about me. Or maybe if I abandon everything that I enjoy or makes me happy I could- give up all my beliefs just to find some crazy bitch who’ll abuse me into her puppet until she kills me.

I’m horrified of driving because it doesn’t matter if you don’t make any mistakes and are the perfect driver that follows the rules- any fucking dickbag can plow into you at 100 mph and you suffer until you die. But they get out without a single scratch. Also I know I’d get distracted and crash or not stop at a stoplight or any million amount of things that could happen at any second.

I’m scared of the future pain- so I just want to end it before any of it starts. Besides, my time playing with toys in my room brought me back to my days playing board games by myself in the basement. Peak of happiness, with no one to bother me, and no fear that anything will hurt me or go wrong. Maybe I should take one last happy day and then end it all since it’s all downhill going forward.

[0thsense]

9/30/2023

When I'm feeling down, I am vigilant to find fault in others, because it makes me feel like I have something over them. A stupid act of desperation.

The time limit is approaching. I am not doing well. What does it mean to give up? I want to run myself to death.

Could I survive losing all of my family and friends? Should I prepare myself for it? It'll slowly happen at this pace. Was I wrong about things all those years ago? Maybe I should quicken the pace.

I can't open up to anyone. Noone will understand, and everyone will think they understand. Hell, some people probably think they understand already without me saying anything. Maybe the easiest way to be happy is to presume you understand about unhappiness you've never felt.

I wanted to understand my emotions. It might be too late, because now all I ever feel is anger and frustration. Base, useless, devastating emotions.

Some girl I used to know followed me on Strava the other day. Simply because she connected her account and auto followed all of her contacts. And I held onto that for the whole day. Pathetic.

Do I feel good when I beat myself up like this? Honestly it's a little cathartic but I'm not sure if it's healthy. I spend so much time thinking about the past, it fills every undistracted moment of my life. Will it ever stop?

So dramatic for someone who has lived such an objectively easy life. I don't really believe that, more just unsure. But everyone else would surely mock me for thinking I have such insane struggles in my circumstances. So I can't open up. They'll think I'm even more pathetic than they already do. A good way to get some one time pity and then having them slowly drift off. A bad way to quicken the pace.

Maybe I just need to get better at slapping on a smile and enthusiasm, so that it doesn't take so much effort every time. Just get good at it so it doesn't take all my energy, so I don't dread it every time. Just... become an automatic liar. Perfect.

I'm not looking forward to going to Japan soon. I'm worried my shell will break over those 2 weeks. Maybe I'm even more worried that it won't. Maybe I will just be boring because I'm getting tired having to put on enthusiasm all the time. Perfect.

My legs hurt from running today. Good. I wonder if how I feel right now is accurate. If I look back on this post it will probably read pretty terribly. Have I made no progress? Perfect timing to be depressed again for the holiday season. Last time I showed up one time and they thought I was fine. Because I guess I'm good at faking enthusiasm. Fuck you.

If I think rationally about it, it's my fault. It's hard to tell when someone's depressed, and it's even harder when I've been putting on masks for my whole life. But I can't tell them either. Probably the worst cases of depression are the ones where they have noone to tell. Because they can't trust anybody to care enough. I'm doing fine everyone.

God and I hate it even more because I become so self absorbed. Making me lose one of the few things I prided myself on: empathy and thinking of others. And I kept that pride even though it became unjustified. It hurts.

Maybe I can try to think of others in this post. Harley decided she wants to move back home, because of RTO. I wonder how she feels about that. I wonder if I chose that just because it's semi relevant to me. My dad might also be kinda depressed, I'm kinda worried. Probably partly due to me.

God, I can't think of much when I try to remember caring about others recently. You don't just feel worse, you become worse. Please let me care for others again. I am an asshole. I'm not willing to sacrifice myself to help others. I find something in them to condemn and justify this. Nobody helped Jerry, and everyone sure loves beating down on him.

Endroll was a nice game.

[taiscerayne2426]

MEDICAL ISSUES AHEAD

I'm not asking for money, just need to get some things off my chest

So back in October of 2022, I started having extreme heart palpitations, randomly and seemingly without any provocation. I could be sitting, walking, laughing, eating, even sleeping and my heart would just pound upwards of 130 bpm for 10, 20 minutes at a time. I'd struggle to breathe, fight passing out, and try to stay upright.

As these episodes got more and more frequent and severe, my partner insisted I go into the ER. I didn't have a primary Dr at the time, so I didn't have anyone else to go to. The ER ran a bunch of tests, found nothing at all wrong, and sent me home with a heart monitor.

I met with a cardiologist, and I'll be honest he was by far one of the worst doctors I've ever seen. He dismissed everything I said, belittled my experience, diagnosed me with POTTS, then sent me home on what he said was a beta-blocker to slow down my heart. Fine. Not great, but fine. Until I get to the pharmacy and they say "This isn't a beta-blocker, this is an anti-depressant. I wonder why he told you that?" Never saw that cardiologist again.

Fast-forward to December 2022. My job has let me go because I'm barely able to hold myself upright and can pass out at any time so I'm not medically cleared to drive. My partner is burning both ends of the candle trying to keep me safe and manage his college classes. We're struggling to survive off one income in the city.

My episodes get rapidly worse, then slowly start tapering off until they're only happening once a day. Then it's once a week, but the worst it'd been thus far. Then, for no discernable reason, they stop in February 2023.

I was overjoyed. Finally, FINALLY I could get back to life. We moved to a new town, a smaller quieter place with cheaper rent and less violence. I got a new job nannying two amazing kids and babysitting a third once a week. My partner and I both continued college. Everything was going so, so well.

They came back. About 4 weeks ago, beginning of June 2023. It was slow at first but it's getting worse and worse.

And it's fucking scary, dude. I find myself physically incapable of taking a breath for so long that I sob when it finally comes. It's like everything in my body just. freezes. goes stiff. I can't feel anything, I can't move anything. I can barely signal my partner so he notices. We can't find anything that helps.

I'm not able to drive anymore. I can barely support myself to move from the bed to my desk. I pass out if I stand in the kitchen too long pondering what to eat. I'm on a cane now, for the first time. It helps a bit, makes me feel a bit less useless.

I'm barely eating. Don't have an appetite. I've lost more weight in the last few weeks than I want to admit, and I was already dangerously underweight.

The scariest part, though, is that I can feel myself fighting to hold on every time I have an attack. I fight so fucking hard to stay, because I can FEEL that if I lose consciousness, I'm gone. And it's getting harder and harder to fight. Don't misunderstand, I have no desire to die. I'm fighting for a reason after all. I'm just getting weaker, and it's getting more and more difficult.

I let my PCP know that bit today. She won't see it til she's in the office next, but until this new heart monitor comes off on Monday they won't be able to give me any answers anyway. 2 more weeks. Just 2 more weeks til I hopefully get some results. Because if I don't, I'm... gods. I'm fucking scared.