#and i want her to deal as much damage as physically possible

[callisto-cecilia]

I think I should have a DPS Sucrose. as a treat

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 3.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: I had someone on Ao3 ask me about how often this will get updated and my answer is that I don't know. My IRL can be pretty unpredictable and I do deal with depression on a daily basis. I'm going to do my best to update this while still working on my Leon Kennedy fic, Unlikely Salvation! Please do bear with me as I try to figure out where I want this story to go!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 1 / chapter 2

The lab was hustling with scientists, the Wakandan sunrise filtering through the enormous windows with an intensity that made Bucky eyes hurt as he stood by the cryostasis pod where the Winter Soldier would soon be housed.

The whole trek to the lab had been uneventful: not once did the soldier fight back. It seemed that the failure to complete her mysterious mission had caused her to shut down, and Bucky was tense as she was strapped down with multiple magnetic cuffs like the ones he and Steve used back in the quinjet.

Even with the super soldier serum coursing through her veins and whatever other enhancements she might naturally have or that HYDRA might have given her would prove useless. She was strapped down nice and tight.

There was a machine hovering over her knee, the tissue and bone beneath crunching and grinding as it was fusing back together, her expression unchanging despite her kneecap and patella being exposed. The air was beginning to smell of singed flesh and hair, and Bucky felt slightly nauseous.

Bucky hated knowing how much damage his arm could inflict; how unforgiving his grip was and how hard it was to regulate the strength at times so he would break yet another glass just by holding it and trying to take a drink.

And it had been so easy to crush her flesh like it was nothing.

"Howard? Howard, oh god...oh god, Anthony...!"

Bucky clenched his jaw, swallowing harshly as Maria Stark's voice whispered to him, and he was broken out of his trance by Shuri announcing.

"Once we are finished with her knee, I would like to begin deconstructing her mind. If efforts are fruitless, I would like for you to activate her again if possible. We might be able to figure out what her previous orders were and her intentions, history, anything that would prove useful to the eradication of HYDRA."

Steve frowned, asking as T'Challa simply stayed quiet, observing the Winter Soldier as she sat complacent and quiet; seemingly not hearing a word that they were saying.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? What if it doesn't work?"

Shuri replied confidently, flicking her eyes over to Steve before gesturing towards Bucky with a nod of her head.

"We will have to reset completely and start over. Sergeant Barnes' rehabilitation was easy due to the flaws within his programming that HYDRA was unable to remedy. However, we do not know what improvements have been made to HYDRA's algorithm since then. It will be challenging to separate the core person that this woman was before her programming, but not impossible."

T'Challa then asked, raising an eyebrow at Shuri as she shined a light into the Winter Soldier's eyes, taking down notes and recording her vitals.

"What if you are unable to separate the identity from the programming?"

Shuri sighed deeply, shrugging.

"She will have to be built from the ground up. This woman will be like a completely clean slate down to a new name if we are unable to figure out who she was before. I am already running the best biometric identification programs within our arsenal to figure out who she could have been. I would assume that Stark is also doing so?"

Steve nodded, replying as he watched the soldier closely as her eyes inconspicuously flicked to a scientist that readying a syringe.

"Yes, he's also got Nat looking through the database that we downloaded and coursing through any previous databanks we obtained from previous HYDRA raids."

Shuri then turned to Bucky, making him quirk an eyebrow up slightly as she regarded him with a raised brow.

"What is your take on this, Sergeant Barnes?"

All eyes were on him, and Bucky sighed slightly he stared down the soldier, watching the way her brow began to tense slightly the closer the scientist got. The second the syringe touched her skin, the soldier began to freak out.

Due to the cuffs restricting her movement, she resorted to smacking her back against the chair over and over, hissing and yelling loudly as the scientist jolted and stumbled back. T'Challa immediately shoved her down, Shuri exclaiming profanities as she snatched the syringe from the scientist and shoved it into the soldier's neck.

The soldier hissed and yanked her neck away, breaking the needle, and Shuri groaned, gesturing with her hands wildly.

"Really? Now I'm going to have to dig that out. You make things harder for yourself!"

Okoye quipped, her spear pointing towards the soldier as Steve and Bucky stood tensed and ready should the Soldier somehow get out of her binds.

"How primitive! She is like a wild animal!"

The sedative began to kick in, the woman's bucking gradually stopping, and she went limp within the chair, head rolling to the side as her eyes rolled into the back of her skull. Bucky's heart was racing slightly with adrenaline, and Steve observed.

"Seems like she knew what the syringe meant."

T'Challa frowned deeply, leaning back and brushing his hands off slightly as he glanced back at Steve.

"An important but grave detail: she must be remembering...or perhaps, it is a recent memory."

Shuri plucked the broken needle from the soldier's neck, humming.

"I will take it as a good sign that there is at least someone beneath the rubble. I promise you, Mr. Rogers, that I will do my best to find her."

Steve nodded before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

"You going to be alright?"

Bucky glanced over at Steve, muttering truthfully.

"I don't want to do this, but I'm only doing it for you. I'm worried that she is going to somehow lead HYDRA to me and it's gonna be a shit-show all over again."

Steve was firm, declaring quietly.

"You know I wouldn't let that happen. I'd have to miss that big head of yours again."

"You're a goddamn punk, you know that?"

Bucky couldn't keep the smile from gracing the corners of his lips, and Steve smiled at him softly before hugging him firmly and backing away.

"Alright, I'm going to leave you to it. I'll check in periodically; let you all know what we find on our side of the world."

T'Challa hummed, walking towards Steve.

"I will accompany you. I would like to discuss some things before your departure."

Steve nodded, and the two men walked out of Shuri's lab. Bucky turned back around, making a slight face as Shuri cut away pieces of the woman's clothing, revealing a black and tight-fitting compression camisole.

There were numerous scars and marks all over her body, some jagged and unforgiving while others were clean and precise. Shuri hummed softly, muttering as her fingers grazed a jagged scar that ran beneath the woman's neck.

"The things this woman must have been through...HYDRA is truly despicable."

Bucky couldn't speak. Hell, he couldn't even think outside of the boiling hatred and rage that was beginning to consume him at the sight of the gruesome scars that covered her upper body. Bucky could only assume that it got worse beneath her uncut clothing, and he had to bite his tongue as hard as he could.

Whip scars, burn marks, mutilated flesh that never regenerated, her body was a canvas; a horrendous painting that HYDRA had taken delight in decorating. This was more than just punishment, it was a warning.

A warning that disobedience will not be tolerated.

How many times did they slash her throat for the scar to become so prominent? How many times did they burn her skin to the point that the serum couldn't work to regenerate? How often did they beat and prod and jab and shoot and stab at her until she was too weak to fight back?

In a morbid way, Bucky took it as a sign that despite her being activated and still dangerous, her history of resistance let HYDRA know that the person that used to be there still existed.

There was someone still underneath the rubble, as Shuri had put it, and Bucky hoped that Shuri could pull her out.

But even so, would it help? Would it be right to let this woman have to live with the memories and nightmares of what had happened to her? Was it right to subject her mind to the torture of HYDRA even after being rescued?

Was it right to try despite knowing how traumatized and desolated the woman was going to be once she was free? Hell, there were times were Bucky could still smell the scent of the cologne his Handler wore when punishing Bucky, and now Bucky couldn't stand to smell the scent without being pushed into a panic.

"Don't worry, White Wolf. I am going to do what I can to help this woman."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

His voice was choked, cracking slightly as he rushed to respond, and Shuri tilted her head at him, asking Bucky with a curious gaze.

"Then what is it that plagues you?"

"I just...is it right to do this when she's gonna have to live with the memories and the nightmares?"

Bucky felt ashamed by the frown that crossed Shuri's face, but was slightly relieved to know that the disappointment that flashed within her eyes was not directed at him.

"I understand the concern, and I understand that it will not be easy for her...but that is why you are here. You have survived HYDRA and are free of the programming they worked hard to instill within your mind. With living proof that persistence yields peace, I truly think that she may become a person again...it will just take time and a lot of work."

Bucky nodded, and Shuri was quiet for a moment before she murmured.

"While it may not seem fair to save her...it is truly a tragedy to deny her the chance that HYDRA never gave her."

The words left a profoundly bitter taste within Bucky's mouth, and he could distinctly taste copper from him biting into his cheek too hard. Shaking his head, Bucky looked away from the woman as Shuri began to assess her further.

"Reactivating her will come with a risk. I would only be able to activate her, but I don't have the knowledge to deactivate, if that's even possible. When I was activated...the longer I was out of cryostasis and hadn't been wiped, the easier it was to resist the programming. I don't know if it will be the same for her."

"As I said: reactivation will allow us the ability to communicate with her. She has not been wiped, it would seem, so it is possible that this woman knows something."

Shuri grabbed a butterfly needle and a vial, putting on gloves and tying a tourniquet around the woman's arm so that she could find a vein. Once she found it, Shuri inserted the butterfly needle, taping it to the soldier's skin.

"I am now going to collect bloodwork to run DNA diagnostics and input the data into the biometric identification program to see if we may be able to identify her this way. I'm also going to do some testing to see what serum she might have been injected with to trace it back to the creator."

Bucky nodded and sat back, watching and listening intently as Shuri described what she was doing and what the programs did on a deeper, intellectual manner. While Bucky was listening and trying to absorb the information, he couldn't stop glancing over at the scars that lined the woman's body.

Horrific couldn't even describe it. It made him sick to his stomach. If Shuri noticed that Bucky was slightly distracted, she gracefully didn't comment on it. Instead, Shuri tried to distract him the best that she could while the machine she was operating was taking a scan of the woman's brain.

After a moment, Shuri hummed, a perplexed look on her face as she sauntered around the hologram of the woman's brain, tendrils of red seeming to pulse all over the organ, and Shuri's brows furrowed as she thought to herself. Bucky asked with an intrigued look on his face.

"What is that?"

"This is a digital recreation of the woman's brain as well as the areas most affected by HYDRA's programming."

Shuri looked proud as she began to move the hologram around, zooming in and out of different areas and lobes before breaking it down into layers.

"Thanks to the work that I did for you, I was able to develop an AI that was capable of identifying HYDRA's programming, as well as detect the intensity and depth that it runs. It gives possible solutions and suggestions on what to work on first...and tells me when something activates the program."

Shuri's voice seemed to lower slightly, side-eyeing him for a moment before she looked back at the hologram, but Bucky didn't notice. Bucky was floored, in awe at the ingenuity of the AI that he couldn't help but to whistle lowly.

"That's incredible, Shuri."

"Please, compared to her, you were like a walk in the park."

Shuri waved him off before she hummed, pointing to a area that was largely red within the hologram.

"However, unlike your programming, her programming is much more complex. There are multiple layers where the programming intertwines with core pieces and memories, which will make unraveling the ties difficult. There might be parts of her that will not be salvageable."

Bucky pursed his lips slightly, shaking his head as he replied gently.

"Like you said: from the ground and up if needed."

Shuri smiled widely at Bucky, her eyes crinkling as she teased gently, pointing at him.

"See, now you are beginning to understand."

Bucky rolled his eyes before he asked as Shuri began to work, a screen popping up and flashing slightly.

"So, what is that?"

"If we are going to salvage as much as we can of the core person she was before she became a Winter Soldier, we will have to analyze every piece of her psyche. Unfortunately, I cannot do much with HYDRA's program basically firewalling me. It is like they added some sort of encryption to her so that any attempt of undoing their work would be unsuccessful or too risky."

Bucky tilted his head, becoming slightly confused as he pointed to the red parts of the woman's brain.

"Is that why those areas are red like that?"

"Yes. If you look closely, it is almost as though these red areas are wrapping around the parts that are otherwise untouched by HYDRA's program. If we can get past the encryptions, we might be able to get through."

Bucky nodded along, crossing his arms before he glanced down at the woman, asking apprehensively.

"Are you going to make me activate her?"

"For now, no. I do not think that it will be necessary. All I need to do is bypass the encryptions, break them down, and then I will begin to root out the memories with the most significance to her."

Shuri spared Bucky a glance, relaying to him honestly.

"If possible, I would like to keep you from doing so because of the mental repercussions activating her will have. I will entrust the process to Okoye if activation is the only option we have left."

Bucky shook his head, murmuring to Shuri as he glanced down at the woman again as her face scrunched slightly.

"No, I'll do it...let's just hope that I don't have to."

Shuri became quiet, staring Bucky down for a moment before she turned away and suggested.

"Perhaps you should see the Captain off. Breaking through the encryption will take time, and I can tell that you are starting to become brain-dead listening to me."

Bucky chuckled before bowing his head slightly, shaking his head.

"I'd rather not upset your brother by leaving you with her by yourself."

Shuri made a face at him, the expression reminding him of Steve pre-serum.

"Do you think I am not capable of defending myself? This is my territory, white boy."

Bucky raised his hands in surrender, wincing slightly.

"I'm sorry, your highness, but I've been on the receiving end of your brother's foot."

Shuri barked out a laugh, and Okoye made her presence known by snorting while a couple of the Dora Milaje stood by the entrance to Shuri's lab.

"At least he knows what he would be up against. Do not worry, Sergeant Barnes, I will stand watch. The Captain is about to make his departure."

Bucky nodded before expressing his gratitude, nodding gently to Shuri.

"Thank you. I'll be back shortly."

Bucky turned and left quickly, his steps quick and urgent as he arrived outside. However, the quinjet was already flying away, making Bucky purse his lips. T'Challa's voice greeted him, making the man look over at the King as he spoke.

"You just missed him."

"He's always running off on me somehow, so I'm not entirely surprised."

T'Challa chuckled slightly, before he glanced over at Bucky.

"How are you feeling about all of this?"

Bucky glanced over at T'Challa, regarding him with an exhausted look before he turned back front, watching Steve leave again.

"I'm worried, honestly. There's so many things that could go wrong. What if HYDRA is trying to find me and was using her to do it? HYDRA must know that the Avengers have been raiding the old facilities that aren't in use anymore, so why not leave her to be found and taken in?"

T'Challa hummed, clasping his hands together as he replied.

"Let them try. They will not make it very far."

Bucky pursed his lips slightly before he murmured.

"It's...strange, honestly...seeing this from an outside perspective. I knew that this was serious, but I wasn't aware of how bad it actually was. Standing on the other side of the glass...it's almost poignant."

T'Challa nodded, replying with a hum.

"When my father was killed and I was under the assumption that it was you in Vienna, a deep hatred rooted within me for HYDRA. While I understand now that it was Zemo's schemes...that hatred for HYDRA has never wavered. Even now when knowing the dangers that lie beyond those doors, I still hope for peace."

Bucky was quiet, listening intently to T'Challa's words as the king spoke, his brown eyes downcast as he continued.

"Nobody deserves to be subjected to such horrific torture."

Bucky wasn't sure on how to respond. Instead, the man just nodded and took a moment to breathe before he settled, glancing over at T'Challa.

"You're right, and if we have to start from scratch, then I'm willing to help how I can...both with rehabilitating her and eradicating HYDRA once and for all."

T'Challa nodded quietly before turning to walk back towards the lab, suggesting over his shoulder.

"You should get some rest...and maybe put that on ice."

At the mention of the wound on his temple, it began to pulse, and Bucky just sighed.

"I'll sleep it off...and thank you for listening."

T'Challa didn't respond, but a smile graced the king's lips as he disappeared through the doors. Bucky's shoulders sagged slightly, and he rubbed his temple gently, wincing when he pressed down to hard.

He had to admit: that woman could give a mean right-hook.

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STORY NOTES: Bucky, T'Challa, Steve, and Shuri are all within her lab with the Winter Soldier. So far, the Winter Soldier has made no move. Shuri is using a machine that heals and reconstructs the soldier's knee, and Bucky is perturbed by the damage he had inflicted. He reflects on the hardship it took to regulate the strength of his grip in his metal arm; reminiscing about the difficulty of clutching a glass of water.

Shuri then tells the group that she would like to begin deconstructing the Winter Soldier's mind to get an understanding of her intentions, and suggests activating the Winter Soldier again should Shuri's efforts fail. Steve is apprehensive, and Shuri voices that if neither efforts are successful, then she will have to completely reboot the Winter Soldier.

Shuri elaborates that she is currently attempting to figure out the identity of the Winter Soldier, and makes a remark that she hopes Tony Stark is also doing the same. Steve comments that Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, is also combing through the databank Bucky had downloaded, as well as previously recovered databanks.

When a scientist attempts to inject a sedative into her, the Winter Soldier begins to resist; causing a scene and consequently breaking the needle of the sedative within her neck. Steve observed that the woman understood what the syringe meant, and T'Challa points out that it might be a sign that she is remembering.

Before Steve's departure, Bucky voices his fear that HYDRA is using her to get to him, and Steve reassures Bucky that he won't let HYDRA get their hands on him again. Steve exits with T'Challa, and Bucky and Shuri are left alone within the lab. Shuri begins to remove a bit of the woman's clothing, and more scars are revealed.

Bucky becomes upset by the sight of the scars, understanding what they meant, and Bucky begins to become apprehensive about saving the woman. Shuri reassures Bucky that what they are doing is right. Later, Shuri shows Bucky a digital rendition of the Winter Soldier's brain and explains what she is going to do in order to save the woman's core identity.

Shuri comments that Bucky should see Steve off, and though Bucky tries to get to Steve before he leaves, he is unsuccessful. Instead, he meets with T'Challa. They begin to converse with each other, Bucky revealing his concerns, and T'Challa reassures him that HYDRA would not make it far into Wakanda if they attempted to retrieve him. Bucky makes a final thought on the woman and reflects on her strength. End scene.

TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @tilldeathripsusapart

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.  “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

Summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

Rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

Warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

Words: 7k

Before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy the reader as much as i do :)

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November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away. 

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together. 

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family. 

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.” 

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.” 

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of. 

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night. 

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by. 

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?” 

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.” 

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?” 

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.” 

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special. 

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle. 

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.” 

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.” 

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly. 

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding. 

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.” 

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck. 

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other. 

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store. 

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.” 

“Sick!” 

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?” 

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight. 

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment. 

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go. 

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“She’s got a stick up her butt.” 

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now. 

“Lucas! Language!” 

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-” 

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night. 

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.” 

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent. 

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…” 

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike. 

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy. 

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.” 

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him. 

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood. 

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins. 

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-Man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys. 

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will. 

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him. 

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street. 

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy. 

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour. 

– 

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school. 

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat. 

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift? 

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later. 

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class. 

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English. 

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right. 

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence. 

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening. 

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-” 

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you. 

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault. 

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice. 

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark. 

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else. 

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit. 

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other. 

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart. 

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up. 

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail. 

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?” 

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.” 

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt. 

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you. 

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind. 

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him. 

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you. 

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.” 

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan. 

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today. 

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.” 

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins. 

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can. 

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears. 

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters. 

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed. 

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t. 

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” 

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.” 

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave. 

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it. 

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality. 

“Holy shit, did I hit you?” 

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes. 

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.” 

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?” 

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.” 

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. 

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead. 

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.” 

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!” 

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance. 

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.  

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual. 

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise. 

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones. 

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.” 

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.” 

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.” 

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys. 

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.” 

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels. 

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face. 

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone. 

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now. 

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside. 

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed. 

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans. 

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path. 

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.” 

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone. 

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.” 

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.” 

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says. 

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off. 

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.” 

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit. 

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…” 

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in. 

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.” 

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit. 

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them. 

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him. 

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.” 

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving. 

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe. 

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys. 

“Byers!” 

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception. 

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize. 

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends. 

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for. 

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second. 

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well. 

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it. 

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well. 

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.” 

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks. 

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case. 

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and  you know that nothing will be the same again.

-

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Deal of A Lifetime

Tommy's new wife has a terrible accident. He makes a deal that could change everything.

MINORS DNI 2.1k words Tags: Language, face fucking, oral sex, degradation, unsafe sex, P in V sex, cream pie, slight dom/sub vibes, slight dacryphilia, multiple orgasms

“I’m sorry Tommy.” Polly’s words rang out like a bell in his head. “There was a terrible accident. She was hit by a car crossing the street to go to work. They don’t know if she’s going to make it.” Tommy dropped to his knees cursing any deity listening to his cries. “I told her Polly; I told her not to go in today. I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it. I can’t lose another wife; I just can’t do it.” A few years back his first wife was shot and killed in front of him, and now this. It’s almost like a cruel prank the universe has put on Thomas Shelby. He can only be happy for a little while until everything comes crashing down. She was his saving grace in his personal storm called life, and now possibly she may be called away. Tommy stood up, a mixture of sadness and pure rage in his heart. “I must go to her Polly. Maybe I can call her back to me.” He goes outside with almost a physical storm cloud over his head. The people of the town know to stay away, not even to give their condolences. The first person stupid enough to come up to him is liable to be shot. Tommy almost wishes someone would; so, he would have something to take his anger out on.  

He storms through the hospital doors, demanding to see his angel on earth. “Where is she?!” Tommy roars to no one in particular. “So help me God, where the fuck is she?!” A timid nurse takes him to her, and it is a grim sight indeed. She is lying in the hospital bed, with bandages on much of her body. She is unconscious, pain meds running through her damaged system. “It’s not looking good Tom,” Arthur comes up behind him, hand on his shoulder. “She has lost a lot of blood; Doctor’s say it’s touch and go. Most of her body is damaged in some way.” Tommy’s knees got weak at this news. “I want the driver found and cut on the spot; I don’t care who sees.” He enters her room. She looks so fragile and weak lying there. “Tommy’s here angel, I’m right here.” He gently grabs her hand. “Stay with me love, please, I need you.” With no one else around, he starts to cry. “I told you to stay home didn’t I, eh? So stubborn you are.” Tommy leans down to put his face in the crook of her neck, and just sobs. Begging and pleading with her and anything or anyone listening to stay with him. “I need you, love. Please. I love you so much, I can’t be left alone again. You are my everything, you know that? I do this all for you, fuck everyone else. I need you with me.”  

Night falls, and there is no improvement. Eventually, the nurses kick Tommy out and he is forced to leave her. Threatening them was no use. Anger surfaces again in place of despair as he proceeds to punch the brick building until red leaves his vision. He slumps down against the building, face in his bloody beat-up hands. He knows what he must do. Opinions of the family be damned. Against better judgment, Tommy Shelby must go to the crossroads. He’s heard of the crossroad demon all his life. He never had much use for one until now. He knew the payment in return would be high, possibly even his tattered soul, but it was worth it in his eyes. Five minutes till midnight he stands at the crossroad, small wooden box in hand. Inside is a picture of the one he is doing this for, and a lock of his hair. Tommy digs a small hole and buries it, a small offering to call the demon. For good measure he cuts the palm of his hand and trickles his blood over the mound of dirt. And now Tommy waits. He checks his pocket watch; it is midnight on the dot. “Alright, you demon where are you? I left the offering. I know you can’t resist the smell of blood.”  

Tommy hears footsteps. “Actually, it’s the smell of desperation that we can’t resist. The blood is just an added bonus.”  A woman; or what used to be a woman now stands before him. Tall and graceful looking, with deep amber skin. She was quite beautiful, but Tommy knew it was just a vessel. The inside was rotten as could be. “Ahh, Tommy Shelby. The devil of Small Heath. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice was intoxicating, running up his spine almost causing a tremor. “Cut the shit, demon. You know why I am here; I want to make a deal.”  The demon slowly walks closer to Tommy. “Is that right? What could I possibly do for big bad Tommy Shelby? Not tall enough, are you? Trade your soul to feel like more of a man?” She finds this very funny, and she begins to giggle. Tommy’s patience is running thin. “This isn’t about me you bitch. It's my wife. She's in the hospital and it’s not looking good. Please help her.” She stops giggling. She blinks and her eyes are now solid black. Demon eyes. “Oh, poor baby. Tommy’s flavor of the month is going to die, oh no! Only a demon like me can save her.” Her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s in it for me? Your soul? That pathetic thing isn’t worth trading for. You have taken almost as much lives as me.” Tommy drops to his knees. “Please, I have money. I have gold. I have cocaine. Please name your price.” An evil grin crawls across the demon’s face. “Well, well, I have Tommy Shelby on his knees. She must be important for you to grovel. This is quite a pretty sight. Are you going to start crying too?”  

The demon reaches down and tugs at his hair, making him look at her in her midnight eyes. “I could leave you be with your love for ten years. Then send my hell hounds after you to take you back where you belong. Make you watch her cry for you until she moves on. Have you watch as another man claims her as his own. Would you like that? She would still be alive to break your heart over and over again.” Tears form in Tommy’s eyes at the thought of her forgetting him. But she would be alive, and that’s all he ever wanted. “You say you have gold, money, and cocaine. Is your body on the table as well?” Tommy’s eyes grow big. “Are you asking to use my vessel? Possess me?” She shoves him to the ground using her unnatural strength. She straddles him, pinning him to the spot. “Well, I'll certainly be using you. You’ll be begging me to possess you before it’s over. The pleasure will be just too much for your mortal vessel.” She bends down and licks the side of his face, making him cringe. “You nasty bitch!” Tommy snarls, “This is serious and you're using the situation to get laid?!” She runs her hands along his body, “What can I say? When the opportunity presents itself, you’ve got to take it. Besides, it’s the only thing I miss about being mortal. The hot nasty sex. That’s one thing you pathetic humans get right.”  

She pulls down the top of her dress, exposing her large breasts to Tommy. He turns his head, willing his body to not betray him. “Look at me Tommy.” She purrs seductively wiling him to fall prey to her. “Look at this beautiful body. Don’t you want this? I see inside you Tommy; I see your weakness. You love a willing woman, don’t you?” She slowly starts to grind against him, demanding that he participate in her sick game. “You’re not a real woman demon!” Tommy protests. “You’re using some poor vessel to disguise yourself. You are far from human you evil whore!” This angers the demon, and she slaps him across the face. “This is how it will be Tommy, give yourself up or little wifey dies. Got it? Now seal the deal with a kiss.” Tommy takes a shaky breath, knowing there is no way out now. He started this whole thing, he summoned her. Now it’s time to pay up to save his wife. He angrily grabs her face and kisses her with all he has. The deal has been made. “Now was that so hard Tommy?” The demon asks, as her hand reaches down to undo his pants. “Ahh, now here’s something that is hard.” Her hand contacts flesh and finds what she is looking for.  

She slowly pulls his cock out, her eyes returning to human form. “Well, well, so rumors about you are true huh?” Tommy sits up, fed up with her mouth. He grabs the sides of her head and forces himself in her mouth. “Shut the fuck up demon. You wanted me so badly, well here the hell it is. Choke on it.” She easily slides down to the base, taking every inch of him down her throat. He growls at how well she takes him. His wife can’t even do that. “Can’t speak now, can you? Just some fucking peace and quiet with a human cock down your throat.” Tommy continues to use her throat like a toy, berating her with every stroke. “Even a demon needs a man to put her in her place huh? Still some holes that need to be filled, soul or not.” Now it is the demons turn to be sick of his shit. She grabs his hips and throws him off her. She moves faster than the blink of an eye and has him on his back again. “I only let you do that to me. I could have broken your neck, you worthless sack of shit. You are my toy to do as I see fit. Now serve your purpose and shut your mouth before I change my mind you cock with legs.” Before he can form a rebuttal, she sinks down on him in one swift motion. She may be dead inside, but she is still very warm around him. Drawing him in her web. Tommy’s mind goes blank, too drunk on her to feel angry anymore. She tilts her head back in pleasure. “Yes Tommy, this is definitely your purpose. Just a brainless hole filler, aren’t you?” She looks down at his drunken face. “Can’t even form a response, it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.” She grabs his face, “Look at me when I fuck you, Tommy. It’s just what you need, to be reminded where you belong. Underneath. Me. Servicing. Me.” Thrusting hard with every word. As much as he hates this, her words make him fall apart with a cry inside her. A woman has never spoken to him like this before and his body can’t get enough of it. 

He comes inside the demon, his whole-body trembling. “Oh no Tommy, was that too much for you?” The demon feigns compassion. “Looks like we’ll have to go again, see if you can get it right this time.” Tommy tries to tell her no, that he is too sensitive. She starts up again, ignoring his pleas for a small break at least. His body ignores him too, he’s hard as iron ready to be used again. Tommy bites his lip, trying to hold in the whimpers of sensitivity turning into pleasure. “Let me hear those pathetic whimpers, Tommy. Be good for me, yeah? Be a good cock for me?”  She rides him on the hard ground with all she has, and Tommy can’t take much more. “Yes, yes, I'll be a good cock for you. Yes, please come, please come, yes, I'll be good.” Tommy is blabbering, not even sure he is making sense. He doesn't know if she is really that good, or if she's just using her magic on him. He honestly doesn't care. She is just so good that his mind is melting. “Good boy, Tommy. Good boy. I'm going to come so hard; you are such a good toy for me to use, aren’t you?” Without any further warning, the demon milks him with supernatural strength, making tears fall down Tommy’s face. Her orgasm causes her eyes to blacken again as she looks down at her human toy, crying and spent with pleasure as it’s her turn to tremble and shake. Coming down from her release, she strokes his overwhelmed face. “You know, you are so pretty when you cry. I’d go again if I didn’t think it would kill you. Maybe next time.” She stands up like nothing happened between them, fixing her dress. “Your wife is awake; you might want to fix yourself up and go see her. Consider the debt paid, until I want more that is. You will be seeing me again dear Tommy.” The demon disappears into the dark, leaving Tommy wondering if the debt will be until he dies naturally, or until she kills him. 

[yandere-paramour]

I know kids have been asked about but how they would they treat a physically pregnant darling?

From the second he learns about your pregnancy, Vivien dedicates himself to making this as easy as possible. He checks out all the books on babies at the library, reading and taking notes on everything. He wants to study every technique, every opinion, anything to ensure you have the safest and most comfortable pregnancy possible. You can't stop working, but as soon as you get home, he directs you to put your feet up and relax. Anything you're craving, he'll cook it for you. Need the remote, he's up and grabbing it. Morning sickness, he's holding your hair back and working with his herbs to find a concoction to beat it. Our sweet Vivien will run himself ragged trying to look after you. He says you're "growing body parts" so him running out at 3am to get sesame chicken is nothing. He shows up to every single doctor's appointment with a notepad, even if it's in the middle of the work day, taking copious notes on whatever the doctor says. He is also incredibly worried, but he doesn't want to annoy you or make you mad at him. He constantly checks how you’re feeling, reminding you regularly to tell him if you feel anything strange or wrong and he'll rush you straight to the doctor. He'll ask for the both of you to take gentle walks, to lay in bed a while longer, to eat more vegetables for the baby's health. He is fully aware that while this is your undertaking, he needs to take responsibility and be the best husband he can be. Any requests about the birth are honored, and he is the kind of guy to be fully involved by letting you squeeze his hand as hard as possible. He will also cut the cord and pull the kid out himself if he has to, he's not squeamish. He volunteers for every diaper and late-night feeding, and he will massage your aching stretch marks at least thrice a week. He starts out somewhat awkward with the baby, he has never had much experience with little children, but the love he holds for his child is almost tangible. He rambles to them constantly, talking about his plants, his work, and how much he loves his new little family.

Atalanta is pleased but concerned. She is not panicked like Vivien; she knows that the pregnancy itself is already implanted in the uterus, and thus, the hard part is done. She can take care of the rest. She becomes stricter when you're pregnant. Your main rule now is to do nothing that could put you or your daughter in harm's way, no junk food, a daily gentle exercise schedule, and your outfits planned by her to make sure you’re not putting unnecessary pressure on your abdomen. Atalanta cannot take a chance on losing this child; she needs an heir, therefore this child will be born and born healthy. She will pay an entire team of doctors to consult on your pregnancy with daily checkups to ensure everything is going right, no matter how annoying it is. You can still spend time with your friends and family, the time is just now limited because she wants you home and taking a rest once a day now. She completely stops all punishments, she is too scared that even hurting your feelings will damage the child somehow. Any small slights will be forgiven, and anything major will be remembered until after the birth. She buys only the latest, most well-studied baby equipment, and hooks you up to it daily. She will allow you to take charge during the birth, she knows it is a sensitive and delicate time, but she wants to cut the cord and hold the child first. After the birth, congratulations: you have earned the ultimate rest. Atalanta will bring in a trusted nurse to care for the child, and you do not have to worry about any of the gross things like changing diapers or dealing with spit-up. You just have to focus on healing and bonding with your new daughter. If you would like, Atalanta knows of a wonderful spa for postpartum mothers in California. It's only 1k per night; she can easily set up a month for you and the child to recover there; she'll just have to work remotely for a while. Atalanta loves her daughter; she is a good mother, albeit a little distant, but she will support and care for her child through everything.

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: heard of hearing and/or partially blind Steve + his parents realizing. Maybe they come home & see how their house has changed to be more accessible for Steve? Or something like that.

HONESTLY THIS ONE HURTED. But as usual, you provide the quality shit!!!! Poor Steve, but also if it ain't hurt/comfort, then did I even write it? Everyone loves Steve. Except his parents. His parents suck. But everyone else? Angels. Hope you love it darling!!! - Mickala ❤️

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Concussions were a bitch.

Multiple concussions in a three year period were a bitch.

But the worst part was when he noticed he couldn’t hear out of his left ear. Robin had been talking to him at work on his left side, whispering about some customer that was walking down every single aisle as if they didn’t know what movies were out, and he didn’t even notice until she switched sides halfway through a sentence.

He pretended it was fine, that he’d heard her the whole time, but then she asked him a question he couldn’t answer. She walked to his left side and said something, and when he shook his head, she bit her lip, fighting back tears.

“It’s okay, Robs. I can still hear out of the other one,” Steve said to comfort her, but also to comfort himself.

If he lost it in one ear, he could lose it in the other, and then what?

She tried to convince him to get a hearing aid, but he didn’t think he needed one.

“Your parents sent you money for medical expenses, use it for this!”

But he couldn’t.

And then he started getting blurry vision in both eyes. The left was rapidly growing worse, and Dustin noticed.

“Dude, you’re squinting. Do you have a migraine? You could’ve had Eddie drive me.”

“Nah, just tired. Trying to focus.”

Part of that was true. The squinting helped him focus a little, but he knew he had to do something about it.

So he sat down with Robin and came up with a plan.

He hated every fucking second of it.

“You get a scan first, we need to know if this is gonna keep getting worse or what permanent damage is there. You get glasses-“

“I might not need-“

“You get glasses. Then you get fitted for a hearing aid.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve rolled his eyes.

But looking back, he was grateful Robin made him do it.

The doctors had been amazed he was able to talk with the damage done.

“Will I lose my ability to talk?” He asked, realizing that not being able to hear, see, and talk was too much for him to deal with.

“I think we can work through some physical therapy type exercises to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’m glad you came in now and not a few years from now.”

Robin never said ‘I told you so,’ probably sensing that Steve wasn’t coping well with the news.

They told him he would most likely lose all hearing over the years, and his vision would progressively get worse, though it would most likely plateau and he wouldn’t lose it completely.

They said he needed to do vocal exercises every day, brain exercises as often as possible, and to come back the moment he recognized any change in his speech.

So he lived with the anxiety of not being able to communicate with anyone he loved every second of every day.

Dustin, Will, Mike, and Max had done research for weeks, finding things they could do to help him live in his house alone. Sure, they were there often, almost enough to be considered roommates, but that wouldn’t always be the case.

They would all grow up and leave.

Max had lost her own vision after Vecna, only able to see light and sometimes movement, but never any detail.

The day he got his glasses, she threatened him with murder if he didn’t wear them.

“The more you strain your eyes, the worse they’ll get. Wear the glasses. I’m sure you look just as cute as always.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that, but he didn’t want to piss Max off, so he wore them all day every day.

Dustin had found a way to wire the doorbell to the lights in the whole house, so if it rang, and somehow Steve couldn’t hear, he’d see the lights flash three times from any room he was in.

He’d done something similar with the walkie, so Steve would know if someone was trying to communicate with him.

Will figured out a light system for the phone, where it flashed with green while it rang and red if he missed a call that went to their voicemail.

It only worked if he was in the kitchen, living room, or his bedroom and paying attention, but the thought behind it made him want to cry.

He got debilitating migraines frequently, which left him bedbound, unable to even get up to use the bathroom on his own sometimes.

They figured out a signal for his walkie that he could push the button in a sort of Morse code to make sure someone knew he needed help.

If he couldn’t get to his walkie for some reason, Dustin programmed buttons on all the phones: *1 called Robin, *2 called Eddie, and *3 called Dustin.

All of his meds were moved to the drawer by his bed, with a reminder note in every room of his house, just in case he forgot.

Which was apparently another thing he had to worry about: his memory.

The doctors seemed to think he would be okay if he stayed active and healthy otherwise, and definitely needed to avoid another concussion, but they did say he could notice some issues as he got older.

Mike looked up what vitamins he needed to help boost his memory and vision, and increased his iron intake to hopefully stave off some of the migraines before they even started. He put the instructions with his medication reminders all over the house.

But what surprised him most was what happened when his parents came home early on a random Thursday morning.

He was dealing with a bit of a migraine hangover, the day before being a blur of calling for help, reaching for his meds, and Eddie arriving to make sure he stayed hydrated and made it to the bathroom as needed.

Eddie was still here, in fact.

So when he heard them banging around downstairs, his eyes flew open and he looked at a still sleeping, very shirtless Eddie next to him in his bed.

Nothing happened obviously. Eddie just ran hot.

But his parents had already been questioning him a lot about not having a girlfriend in a while and hanging out with “queers” like those two things alone could make him gay.

And if they saw Eddie like this, they would make assumptions.

Assumptions that would get him kicked out of the house that everyone just worked so hard to make accessible for him.

So he got up as quickly, but quietly as he could, ignoring the buzz in his ear where his hearing aid was loose from sleeping in it. He wasn’t technically supposed to, but he didn’t like anyone touching his head on migraine days so it stayed in.

Eddie didn’t budge, and he hoped he stayed that way while he tried to keep his parents busy.

Then the lights flashed and he heard the distant high pitched ring of the doorbell.

“What the hell?” His father asked as Steve ran down the stairs.

“Steven?” His mother asked as he flew past them and made it to the front door.

“Steve!” Dustin yelled excitedly as Steve glared at him.

“Dustin, not now.”

“Why? I saw Eddie’s van, so I figured-“

“Who is at the door, Steven?”

Steve closed his eyes and heard Dustin mumble ‘shit’, before he turned around to face his parents.

His glasses were dirty, but he could see that the looks on their faces were not impressed.

“Since when do you wear glasses?” His mom asked.

“Is that a hearing aid?” His dad added.

“Dustin, I’ll call you later.”

“Answer the questions.”

“I started wearing glasses and the hearing aid after a few concussions that caused a lot of damage.”

“What’s going on with the lights? Do they always flicker like that?”

Steve hadn’t really expected them to care much about him, but it still hurt a little how quickly they became concerned about the house instead of him.

“They’re a visual aid so if I’m not wearing my hearing aid or my hearing gets worse, I’ll know when the doorbell rings.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yeah, it is,” Eddie said from the stairs, luckily not shirtless.

“Who the hell are you?” Steve’s dad didn’t waste time with pleasantries, he never did unless someone had something to offer him.

“I’m Eddie. Steve’s friend.”

“His friend?” Steve’s mom was hesitant to be obvious about what she meant, but everyone could understand where she was going with the questioning.

“Yeah, or would you prefer if we were boyfriends?”

Steve couldn’t help the snort he let out.

Eddie wasn’t the type to hide himself away, but he wouldn’t purposely make Steve’s life harder.

“Is there a reason you’re here?”

“I was taking care of him yesterday. It got late so I stayed.”

“Take care of him?” His mother turned back towards him. “Are you sick?”

“I get migraines.”

“We all get migraines, Steven,” his father said as he crossed his arms.

“But we all don’t get the kind that leave us crying and throwing up for hours on end because we can’t even see straight, do we, Richard?” Eddie asked as he walked closer to them.

“I don’t know who you think you are-“

“I told you, I’m Eddie. And as far as I’m concerned, I, and quite a few other people in town, are quite good at taking care of Steve. Unlike his parents.”

“Steve’s a grown man-“

“Yeah, now. But where were you when he wasn’t and got the concussions that caused this?”

Steve could feel his head pulsing, and he knew his migraine would be back at full force if he didn’t rest.

He took his hearing aid out for a bit of relief, the volume of his father and Eddie arguing going down considerably.

He massaged his neck the best he could, knowing that the release of some tension would at least keep the pain at bay until this could be over.

Then, he saw the phone start flashing green.

“What is going on with the phone?”

His mother directed the question at him, but Eddie stopped berating his father long enough to answer her.

“It’s so Steve knows it’s ringing if he happens to have his hearing aid out like he does now. In case no one is here with him and someone needs to reach him.”

“That explains not answering our calls.”

“I think that could just be that you don’t call at all.”

Eddie moved closer to Steve.

“Go upstairs, Stevie,” he said quietly into his right ear. “I can handle them.”

Steve was too tired, too frustrated, too borderline on a migraine to fight.

He walked upstairs, ignoring his father’s protests, his mother’s pleas, and Eddie standing in front of them both raising his voice to be heard.

Everything felt blurry as he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes when he made it up the stairs.

His room was dark still, the blackout curtains still drawn closed, lights off, like Eddie had suspected it might be a bad day again.

His pills were on the table, a cup of water next to them. He set his glasses down and took them, trusting that Eddie followed the instructions perfectly.

He always did.

He always took such good care of him.

He came at the drop of a hat, even if Robin was already here. He brought Steve’s favorite soda, insisted it helped with migraines even though it probably didn’t. He massaged the spot on Steve’s neck that always held the most tension, pulled him close until he fell asleep on the couch or in the bed, always on his chest.

He’d been learning and teaching everyone sign language too.

Steve had started learning immediately, and so did Robin, but Eddie had insisted on it too, and started teaching the kids. He’d been showing Max one sign at a time, putting her fingers and hands into the movement so she knew how to do it.

And Steve didn’t think he could love Eddie more.

But he figured if Eddie was interested in him, he would have made a move already.

He could very distantly hear Eddie’s voice saying something, but he wasn’t sure what. With his hearing aid out, he usually couldn’t hear anything downstairs from his room.

He closed his eyes, settling under the blankets so he could try to do what Eddie wanted him to.

He drifted in and out, tired, but not quite enough to fall asleep all the way.

At some point, Eddie had made it back to the room and got in bed, his hand running through Steve’s hair gently.

“Eds?”

“It’s alright, Stevie. Your parents are gone. They won’t be back again for a while.”

“Mkay.”

He let himself drift again, safe with Eddie there.

[storiesconsumemysoul]

I don't know how to articulate this perfectly but I'm so happy for how the show is portraying Renna's desire for an emotional "connection" with Egwene as genuine because it highlights, to me, a crucial underlying aspect of Egwene's psyche going forward. A particular allergic reaction she'll develop let's say. The Seanchan are messing her up in about a thousand different ways but one of the more prominent ones is that it completely F U C K S with her relationship to power/authority. Especially within the context of a personal relationship.

Egwene is absolutely the embodiment of the "I'm going to get a good grade in ________, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve" meme. Which initially, while very strong-headed and singularly motivated, does make her quite amenable to being governed. She's a Grade A+ Student(TM) with a healthy dose of "respect authority" and "give benefit of doubt to the system and its enforcers" that generally comes with that. The only real conflict for her then was whose authority and which hierarchy of knowledge she was acquiescing to, Nynaeve/The Wisdom or Moiraine/The Aes Sedai.

Then she's made into a Damane. With all the horror that that entails. An absolute governing of every aspect of her being, a ruthless domination of her body, a weaponization of her mind against her. A complete stripping of personhood and agency while in the same breath exalting her power that is being put to "proper use". Now all of that is already enough to severely break her amenability to authority and people having power over her ever again. But it's more than that.

The horror is encased in intimacy. This forced intimacy that invades her body both on a physical level (all the ways in which her body is literally controlled directly by Renna) and magical level (the high/rush of touching the One Power even when done forcibly and against her will that is facilitated only through a connection with Renna). And Renna wants to have a third in genuine emotional intimacy. Renna sincerely wants to be close to her. She genuinely feels good and exhilarant when they're "connected". She offers, what are in her eyes, kindness, consideration, and thoughtfulness to this person who is, surely, resisting and defying merely out of stubbornness and spite. She is legitimately seeking a companion in Egwene to face the Last Battle with and make a stand for the greater good. Renna knows she is right and she wants nothing more than for Egwene to truly see that too. Why can't she see what is good for her?

If only ... she'd just ... submit. To being loved and held and ruled in the right way. For her own good.

To me, every interpersonal conflict that Egwene finds herself in, in one way or another, is tainted by this aspect of her time as a Damane. Renna poisoned her ability to navigate an interpersonal conflict as anything but an existential power struggle that she MUST win. No matter how much true love and care each party holds for the other, no matter which of them is right or wrong. Her sense of identity cannot survive anything else. Especially when it's with someone who does legitimately, in one way or another, have power over her and isn't afraid to exercise it.

I just ... I really love Egwene and I think her effed up relationship to power is really really interesting and heartbreaking actually. And this doesn't even scratch the surface of the lasting damage the Seanchan deal her.

[goldenhallas]

I unlocked all the memories in the Lighthouse and I'm vibrating with excitement rn! so many things me and my brothers discussed over the years have turned out to be true, or almost correct. We thought the Evanuris were also the Old Gods of Tevinter, which was close since the Old Gods were actually the Evanuris' bound dragons. We also thought Solas/other ancient elves were spirits (the way I shrieked when that was confirmed lmao). Now looking back at Inquisition it gives a whole new layer to the Cole situation... Cole chose to manifest in a physical body and he could become more physical, more human, but Solas didn't want him to and greatly disapproves if you do that, not just because it 'goes against his nature' as he said, but because it reminded Solas of when he chose to become physical and his regrets surrounding that. Damn. I wonder if it's possible for Solas to somehow reverse what he did and become fully spirit again, and if he would choose that if he could? What about Ghilana/Solavellan, would she change his mind on that? Anyway I digress. You know what really has me shook about all this... I was literally 100% certain, not a doubt in my mind, that Ghilan'nain created the Blight. I never for one second suspected it was Solas!? Like. Holy shit, he really, really fucked up on a whole other level with that one. He separated the dwarves from the titans / took away their ability to dream, and not only that, but he knew the damage it would cause and what he was doing was awful, but he did it anyway. All because he loved Mythal so much he would've followed her anywhere, even into doom. It's so tragic and romantic and terrible all at the same time, so very Solas, and I love it. I have to wonder though... how does he feel about what he did to the dwarves now? Obviously he regrets what he did, that's clear, but why didn't he give their dreams back at some point between then and now? All it took was Harding touching the lyrium dagger to get reconnected to the titan, so surely Solas could've done that? So why didn't he? I know he was preoccupied with other stuff but that's a pretty damn big deal. Maybe he didn't realise a simple touch of the lyrium dagger was all it would take to reconnect them? Or maybe - and I think this is more likely - the titan is too dangerous right now because of its anger at what was done to it (understandable) and he thought reconnecting them before he healed/calmed the titan (if that's possible?) would be a bad idea for the dwarves? My brother thinks he just didn't care but I think that's ridiculous and doesn't seem like Solas at all.

I mean Solas could burn down the entire world and I'd still love him, so whatever the case I'm his ride or die, but I do want to give him a bit of a clip around the ears and make him look the dwarves in the eye and apologise to every single one of them and FIX what he did to them. I'm also wondering if this whole thing with Rook IS part of his plan to fix what he did? He was known as the trickster god and he was known for getting out of traps, so you never know

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Got any trans HCs for the amphibia trio? I love the many different interpretations I've seen from this fandom

I don't know about specific headcanons, I know I'm considering making Anne trans in RiAAU but I haven't decided yet.

In one hand: it would be interesting to think how she deals with her first periods because, well, amphibians don't have those, and Hop Pop assumes she's dying (she doesn't tell anyone else because she's so embarrassed). Not that he tells her that, but it really freaks him out. He thinks she has some sort of internal damage, and it's only after months of research that he finds out about some rare mammalian species, such as a few monkeys and rodents, that experience the same cycle Anne goes through. The whole point of this is that it makes Anne feel even more out-of-place. She doesn't remember her world or her parents, only that she came from "somewhere" (possibly another continent) full of people of her species, and she wonders if things would have been easier if she grew up with her biological family. I mean, surely this would be easier. It just serves as a reminder that she knows nothing about her species, not even its name, and she has no idea of how her biology works or what is good and bad for her or how long she'll live or what changes she'll go through.

.

BUT, on the other hand: Trans Anne. Let's start with the obvious: amphibians don't have penises or vaginas and they reproduce externally, meaning they like... release eggs and sperm in the water and they mix without the involvement of either parent, meaning no one knows what the cultural significance of a "penis" or a "vagina" tends to be in most human cultures. As a literaly 3yo, Anne probably didn't have an extensive understanding of s.ex and gender, and it wasn't like the clothes she showed up with told Hop Pop much. She just knew that, as time went on, she found herself relating more and more to the female frogs of Wartwood, and she almost subconsciously began to refer to herself as a girl. There wasn't any big coming out moment, more like a point in which, after months of ambiguity (this kid kept using different pronouns for herself) she just settled on some good ol' she/her and began picking somewhat girly clothes when Hop Pop took her to the market.

It's not like the concept of trans people doesn't exist in Amphibia, it's just that Anne didn't realize that was her situation until, at least, meeting Marcy, and noticing the differences between them. It's not like either of them had ever seen another human from up close, so they didn't know what to expect anyway. Anne's only encounters with Sasha beforehand had consisted on magical girl swordfighting in the sky and whatnot. Certainly not enough to discuss their unique biology, which is something Marcy is very excited to discuss, since she's never met anyone with her same "condition" before, and she wants to know everything, so she uses her as her little rat lab whenever she has the chance. Even then, since she also lacks all knowledge of human s.exual dimorphism and its cultural implications, she doesn't associate anything about either of their bodies to any specific gender that could possibly be asigned to anyone based on biological feautures. Since Sasha remembers the most from Earth, she's probably the only one who could maybe possibly remeber her mom or the kindergarden teacher saying something about "the difference between boys and girls", but by the point she's in speaking terms with Anne, and by the time she realizes their bodies are different, she doesn't really care.

That's not to say Anne doesn't experience dysphoria or that she never undergoes any kind of physical transition. It was probably around the time her voice started to change during puberty that she realized her case may be kinda unique: neither Marcy nor Sasha's voices have changed that much, she can tell even though she only sees Marcy in person like once every 3 years and all the words she exchanges with Sasha consist of death threats and insults. Plus, there's a clear difference between """male""" and """female""" voiced in frogs too. She doesn't want to sound like a man! She doesn't want to be anything like a man! Men are gross! Sorry Sprig, Hop Pop, but it's true. Men are icky icky yuck yuck and Anne is a girly girl. She doesn't want to turn into Stumpy! Or Buff Loggle! Oh, no, is that her future? She commits the triple mistake of 1) sending a letter to Marcy that same day, 2) knocking on Maddies' door promising her firstborn if she can save her from turning into Stumpy, and 3) she becomes obsessed researching mammalian biology in the archives. Bad decision. Bad bad. She's discovering things to feel dysphoric about she never even knew existed! Did you know mammalian mothers feed their offsprings with "milk" that comes from their "mammary glands"? Did Sasha and Marcy have those? She hates herself a little for checking out Marcy next time she sees her and she realizes that, indeed, in the past years she's grown a pair of those that Anne does NOT have. She notes that both she and Sasha are pretty much hairless. She used to think hair was a normal mammalian trait! That weasel that tries to eat the frogs every winter sure is covered in it!

Maddie shows up to her door with a bunch of new spells to try out, happy to have a willing subject. Most embarrassingly, Marcy starts doing her own research as soon as she gets Anne's letter and sends her all her discoveries, and now Anne feels mortified because Marcy knows about all the bad bad very bad changes she's going through (Marcy, for her part, is just fascinated by the nature of their "condition").

It takes a bit, but after a few very frenzied weeks, Anne comes to understad what's going on: her species had certain level of sexual dimorphism and she just happened to have been born with the supposed "sex" usually associated with "men" as a social category. When Hop Pop finds out, he burst into laughter. Oh, it was THAT all along! Anne made it sound so complicated, but it was just the same things he went through when he was younger, just the other way around ("Say what now Hop Pop?")! A few curses here and there and she won't have to worry about these so called "mammary glands" and "hair" anymore, though in the meantime, as Maddie perfects a human-friendly curse, she gets turned into all sort of different creatures. By the time it's done, she just wants to feel like... herself.

It's true that there are some things about her body that make her feel weird, like they don't quite fit in, but there are others she only worries about because she compared herself to Sasha and Marcy, which wasn't fair to anyone involved. Did she really want to fundamentally change parts of her body because of insecurities she developed last week over a book about lemurs? Then, a second set of fears come in: what will happen when she goes back to her place of origin? Because she does want to find her birth family. Will they recognize her, if they're looking for a boy? Will they think she's lying if she claims to be their daughter? If she changes only a few things but doesn't "go all the way", will people there think she's a freak? Will she ever be able to fit in with those of her species?

Does she really care so much about what other people think? She just wants to be herself. Some of the changes she's been going through are making her feel less like herself and more like she's being turned into a tax collector from Toad Tower. Those things have to go - her voice, for example. And she wants a more femenine silhouette (she may or may not show Maddie photos of young Mrs. Croaker as a reference). She wants a softer face. She's seeing her face changing in the mirror and she doesn't like it. She wants it to stay round and soft, not to grow hard and sharp or big and rough. She's not so sure she wants those "mammary glands". It's not like she ever thought about having kids, and the whole "breastfeeding" thing just seems gross, but after her research, and finding out she could have kids with, I don't know, maybe Marcy one day (a thought that makes her blush), she thinks it may be a good idea. She'll consider it. Maybe later. Her genitalia... well, she's used to what she has now. It already took her like 10 years to fully figure out what it was and how it worked and starting over with a whole new set just feels like too much work (also, the babies, the potential babies with Marcy). Frogs and toads have neither "penises" or "vaginas" so there's not a lot of information, and based on books about lemurs and her own empirical experience, comparing herself to other mammalian species isn't too useful. She'll leave it the way it is. She'll see if there's anything else she wants to change later, or if she wants to go back on something.

Marcy is surprised next time Anne visits Newtopia. In her letters, she described this strange transformation in excruciating detail, but seeing her in person now, holding her face in her hands, all she sees is the same Anne she's always loved.

A few more ideas:

HEADCANON: in Amphibia, two people of the same "s.ex" can reproduce through magic, which means there has to be a concious effort and intent. The external fertilization process there's no such thing as a pregnancy, and there's no such thing as s.ex. All reproduction is intentional, which means there's no need for abortion either. There are processes to destroy fertilized eggs and embryos, but they look completely different from human abortions.

Amphibians may perform acts resembling s.ex for pleasure or fun but they look different from human s.ex and have no relation to reproduction.

Andrias is the only person in Amphibia who knows enough about humans to know how they reproduce (a process he finds repulsive). He never tells Marcy, of course, though once she becomes queen, she finds his secret library and his hidden tomes on "alien biology", some of which talk about humans. He's also the only one who knows humans can have children on accident, and that Anne is the only human in Amphibia who could cause something like that to happen (he reads all of Marcy's correspondence). He knows his daughter is very close to this weird farm girl penpal of hers, and even though she's still a child, he worries for her future and the future of the crown. This new discovery could land the crown in the hands of a dynasty of aliens if he's not careful. Is it weird that he spends so much time worrying about his 12yo daughter getting pregnant from another 12yo? Yes, yes it is, but he already controls every aspect of her life, it's not like he's going to stop at her sexuality, future, real, or imaginary.

Man now that I wrote it all down, I think this option is more compelling than the first. Maybe I WILL go with this one.

[janetbrown711]

How do you torment your favs (aka how have you traumatized some of your favourite characters)?

Well, if we're talking broadly here I mostly give them mommy issues, but lets go character by character here for the nitty gritty/true pattern examination

TW for mentions of miscarriages, abusive parents, and just a lot of trauma

Apple White-- Mommy issues, internalized homophobia that she does mostly get over but it doesn't help when a lot of the world is homophobic to her, body image issues, and a possible eating disorder

Darling Charming-- mommy issues, daddy issues, experiences a lot of homophobia and misogyny

Louie Duck-- Just. Just the worst mommy issues. Wants Della to love him so bad but feels like it's literally impossible because of their differences and his "glaring" flaws and selfishness

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot (Long Live the Queen) (idk how to write normal universe whoopsies)-- Abusive grandmother who actively tries to (and nearly accomplishes) murdering their parents making their parents have to abandon them for a year, Yakko has parentification trauma from that, Wakko gets literally starved and locked in a tower on multiple occassions, and Dot feels like it's all her fault whenever Wakko gets hurt because she's supposed to be the perfect princess. It gets fixed but it do be a lot

Lena Warner (my oc from Long Live the Queen)-- Abusive mother who literally attempted to kill her. Wants very badly to be a proper mother to her children and keep them safe, but her mother has far too much control and power over her for that to be truly possible. Had a runaway marriage in her late teens in order to avoid being married off to some old guy. Her mother's murder attempt caused a miscarriage and robbed her of a year with her children while she had to physically recover from her injuries. Ended up killing her in the end though, so that's good.

MK (dadsy of two)-- dead parents that were incredibly abusive (especially his "mother"), a burning desire for closeness to his guardian that he feels he can't access out of fear of attachment + Pigsy's own distant behavior at unpredictable moments. Desperately wants Pigsy to be his dad and nothing hurts more than when Pigsy actively denies it. Craves affection and praise more than anything in the whole wide world but doesn't know how to accept it/how to react when it happens.

Mei (dadsy of two)-- dead parents who gave her severe perfectionism but died before they could ever apologize/acknowledge/realize any damage done. Blames herself for starting the fire because she knocked over an ancestral artifact (that fire was actually fixed, the fire that killed them is unrelated but she'll never believe that). Wants to be the perfect daughter for Pigsy while also not feeling like she's actually his daughter because of the distance + complicated grief related feelings.

Pigsy (dadsy of two)-- tbh what haven't I done to him? Gave him guilt over the death of Sandy's ex fiancee due to "causing" Sandy's trauma that lead to the incident, gave him mommy and even worse daddy issues, deals with fantasy racism on such a regular basis he believes being distant with MK and Mei (ala saying he isn't their father/he's only their legal guardian) is the only way to really protect them from it (and even that backfires on more than one occasion). Internalized fatphobia. PTSD. Smoker. Severe lack of self esteem. Couldn't give less of a shit about himself and his own health (ESPECIALLY mental) while worrying endlessly about everyone else. Just. just so much trauma for one man. what the fuck.

Tang (all fanfics)-- Abusive, severely homophobic parents who cut him off when he was 19 due to finding out about his homosexuality. Could barely afford food for a year until he met Pigsy and basically relied on his charity in order to not starve to death/suffer the effects of severe malnutrition and still continue his education. Loves Pigsy endlessly and hates watching him torture himself over the littlest things (knows he does the same and feels so helpless every time it happens). Wants to be a dad to MK (and Mei) desperately but worries he's nothing compared to Pigsy. Has constantly had his passions belittled and mocked to the point it's genuinely surprising to him that MK actually likes his stories and the way he does things.

Sandy (all fanfics)-- PTSD, guilt over having missed 20+ years of his best friend's life. In Dadsy of Two he killed his fiancee after a nightmare about the war he and Pigsy had fought. Wanted to be a parent but after that accident, he can't trust himself with another human life like that. Has a hard time trying not to be "the therapist friend" and poking where he shouldn't when it comes to his friend's emotional issues (especially Pigsy's). Had just the worst toxic romance with Pigsy ever that was just the hottest of messes before it all fell apart but they tried to be friends (until his fiance's death) (the time away was very much needed for them both to heal and grow so they could actually be good friends again but it still hurts it took that long).

Pigsy (Li Na AU)-- most of the above but even more trauma around fatherhood, only made worse by the fact he had five miscarriages in the past (only three Tang knows about). Buries that pain instead of talking about it and believes that because Li Na is alive and well the pain is gone (it's not. it lives within him in every waking moment and is why he's so fucking terrified at the thought of losing her or MK).

....So yeah! Just--.... Just so much man, damn wtf someone needs to take them away from me I keep hurting them, wtf---

[semi-good-wizard]

Possible candidates for the sixth weapon in hades 2 [Spoilers!]

didnt see anyone really talk about this on here, but i want to hear the tumblr thoughts on this

Part one: the patterns

first i have to start with the pattern i have seen in this game's roster so far: so far the weapons can be seperated into three categories, those with a short attack and ranged special (s/l), those with either long or short ranges (but not the other)(s/s and l/l), and those with long attack and short special (l/s). remember that im not factoring the omega options, since those vary to much. in the silver pool, they are ordered like this

you might also note, that each category has one faster and one slower option (at least by game feel, i didnt run tests) so the last weapon is probably a l/s slow weapon

the next point i realised was another split in the weaponry, illustrated here:

One might argue on my placement of Descura (the staff) in the magic category, but since its attack patterns drawing spell circles instead of clobbering foes, i hope i can dissuade these grievances. Of course this order could change in later updates.

so a martial ranged option would fit these findings

but there is another thing which places this into conjecture (maybe the skull is martial after all, since it physically hits things); when observed top to bottom, you may find this pattern

So a long attack, martial (?), floaty weapon according to the patterns drawn in the silver pool.

Part 2 cool concepts, which could fit these patterns

unfortunatly i cant think of a weapon that fits this bill, so lets ignore it and just imagine some that fits at least some of them

For this i consulted reddit threads, as mentioned above, who had some interesting ideas, like a whip or lyre, but im unsure about

first lets discuss the whip; this being a physical option with some range to it, fits 2 of my patterns, but i dont know if it can differentiate itself from the axe and staff enough. the axe has some range with sweeping attacks, while the staff has kinda single point damage (which i imagine the whip to have aswell). also what would the special be?

now to the lyre; while having some clear connections to already present figures (Apollo, Orpheus and Hermes) which could be great aspect choices; i dont think, if they are going for an instrument it would be the lyre, since zagreus already has one. for attacks maybe its a range of homing bullets/notes that Melinoe has to sit down for to play (kinda like one of Scyllas attacks), thereby creating a slower attack speed. but homing bullets might not have the heft known from slow weapons. for a special it could be a danse macabre type of deal, where Melinoe summons shades or the recently fallen foes to fight for her, or after a foe dies, the weapon spawns a mote that can be erupted by the special, kind of like mines

if theres a instrument based weapon i personally hope its based after Athena's/Marsyas' flute, since i dont hear that myth brought up a lot. (this can also fit the theme of divine punishment, since Marsyas got it bad after playing it). if we get Pan (since hes mentioned in the aspects), this flute could spark a conversation about his own. also with the danse macabre special, it could also reference the Piper of Hameln.

Another idea i heard was a spell tome, since the apparent witch theme; but im unsure since we already got the staff which is quite witchy with its sigils already. it could float so theres that

A lot of people also wanted another gun or other weapon type to return from the first game; but this is a boring option. cant you think of literally anything else?

if you can think of anything else i would love to hear it!!

[incorrect-arknightsquotes]

Okay I am feeling kinda insane so I have to spell everything out

I have a theory about Lappland

First of all I'm sure she has connection to Laterano and that's why.

1) Skin

So her skin from Bloodline of Combat "Refined Horrormare". The one in which description written "The outfit Lappland wore at the Laterano Apostolic Knights' Funeral Memorial Hall.

Even two years ago , I was confused about what Lappy to do with Laterano. Why does she visit the Funeral of Apostolic Knight?

The thing about BoC skins is that they have usually heavy lore. Mountain leaving RI, Beagle dying, Executor tracking down Artoria, and past of a lot of operators. Right?

So about Lappland's skin. We see her wearing this clothes in IL Siracusana, and a lot of people, especially wiki-writers think that it is that big moment skin's introduction written about. BUT IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE.

First of all it's nowhere near Laterano and other skins if they have a very direct connection with place and event.

Also quotes in this skin

" Collect the debts, and pay the price."

And

"Is that all? That's all our lives are worth. I told you, everything you've taken from me, I'll have you repay. In full." - is quote from Lappland and people(on wiki) think that she says it to her father, BUT BUT she didn't try to take a revenge on him in event. Maybe in the future, but unlikely. She stated that she doesn't want any connection with Siracusa and said goodbye to him, not trying to hurt. Hardly counts as repaing, right?

Also also in whole even she never showed as much hostility or better say vengefulness? Even her fight with Texas felt more like friendly rematch.

And I don't think anyone or anything in Siracusa could cause her such emotions if she leaves it so easily.

BUT WHAT IF THERE IS SOMEONE IN LATERANO WHO CAN CAUSE THEM?!

So I am sure we will have Lappland in Laterano

Okay sorry moving on.

2) Her belt

Her belt has number "1911" on it and IT is a year when last Newfoundland Wolf was killed, but in contrast with Texas her family is fine. So kinda weird isn't it?

So maybe this number has a double meaning

And you know what else happened in 1911?

M1911 was designed.

And I mean Sankta's and their guns, right?

3) Sweets

It's almost nothing, but second thing Laterano is known for is their sweets and Lappland kinda mentions sweets a lot?

Her notorious voiceline with mentioning of mille feuille and which she given to Exusiai and tried to give to Texas. Her keeping chocolate (of course it's maybe more about Texas). This stickers

Kinda suspicious isn't it?

So like she has connection to Laterano definitely. But what is this connection?

Well my theory is that her mother was Sankta.

And my arguments, I do have arguments!

1) Sankta's offsprings with other races don't bear any physical similarities with their divine parents, so her being Lupo doesn't contradict this theory

2) She is one of only two Lupo operators who deal Arts damage, and she was stated to not have any training with it, using Arts with just raw talent alone in her file. And Sanktas are well known for their impressive Arts controlling abilities

3) Also the end of her file

For a long time we thought it was Texas about Lappland and about her family. But now after Siracusano we can see that we mistaken a lot. First of all she lost her family not because they are dead, but because they threw her away. Also she didn't forced Doctor to choose anything yet. Doctor even wasn't present in Siracusana. Also know I'm even doubting if it was written by Texas, because we seen them interacting in Siracusana and they are fine. Weird as fuck and deadly to each other, but fine. If Texas truly believed she is that dangerous she would try to keep PL as far away from her as possible. But she isn't

So whatever this file states it going to happen in future.

And I think she will revenge for her mother.

It is a very weak theory I know, but I can't stop think about it.

So if you have your own theory about Lappland's connection to Laterano, please, I am begging, tell me.

[p5x-theories]

Not sure if anyone following this blog is having any trouble with the Shadow Katayama fight, but I just beat her (after several attempts) and figured out what felt like a pretty good strategy, so I wanted to share just in case it helps anyone else?

First and foremost, I realized that damage from status ailments doesn't add to her Rage meter (the pink one above her health bar, which goes up whenever you attack her based on the damage you deal), thanks to Key's burns since he's part of my go-to team. This really became the key (pun intended) to my strategy: deal as much damage as possible to her with ailments, so her attacks don't get too much stronger. Consistently attacking is important too, though, since the turn limit is always a concern.

Morgana's my go-to healer usually, since he's the only way to revive teammates, but while he lasted pretty long when I tried it with him the first time, ultimately the extra attacks Katayama was getting from hitting his electricity weakness were slowing things down. Probably any healer who isn't weak to electricity will work for this fight, I think? I went with Summer Tomoko because I like her ability to heal and hit the enemy at the same time.

That left two teammate slots to try to maximize ailment damage. There aren't actually a lot of teammates that really do that right now? Key was the obvious one, at least to me, because I always take advantage of his burn and Holy Fire ailments hehe, but I realized Messa is probably the other best teammate here, because his Bleeding ailment also damages a target on their turn, and he resists Physical, which is the other attack type that Katayama has.

So, with all that in mind, my team was Wonder with that 5-star blue knife that boosts his healing ability (Personas: Sarasvati, Oberon, and Anubis), Summer Tomoko with the regular Moko's 3-star knives, Key with his 4-star weapon, and Messa with his 3-star weapon. They're all level 80 themselves, but I think only Wonder's weapon was level 80; Summer Tomoko and Key's weapons were level 70, and Messa's was 51 because I'm in the middle of catching him up, heh. I can double check what cards I have on them, if anyone wants to literally copy my setup, but I wanted to give a general idea of the power level my team was at.

My strategy then was just keeping everyone healthy, and making sure Katayama was taking as much damage as possible on each of her turns. With Key, his first fire skill has a high chance of burn, and then his second progresses the burn to Holy Fire (without consuming the original burn), and his third deals extra damage when the enemy has Holy Fire, so it was roughly a cycle of first skill -> second skill -> third skill, trying to keep her burned and Holy Fire-d at all times, above all else.

Messa was a bit funny, because I was technically only using half his capabilities: since his Executioner form consumes the Bleeding status effect, I had much better results from only using his Hunter form, and never switching. Essentially, I'd use his first skill until 9-10 Bleeding were stacked on Katayama (I believe 10 is the max?), then use his second skill to constantly refresh them so the Bleeding never wore off.

Wonder swapped mostly between Sarasvati and Anubis as needed- Sarasvati to heal the team, and Anubis to use his main curse skill, which afflicts the curse status ailment, adding to the damage Katayama was taking every turn. I rarely used Oberon, but he does have Matarukaja, so I used that occasionally if healing wasn't needed but it didn't make sense to attack either.

Summer Tomoko I had mostly using her third skill, which allows other teammates' attacks to inflict Sparks, so she could usually get 1-2 triggers of her followup attack/heal per turn. If someone's health in particular was really bad, I occasionally had her heal them instead, and if I wouldn't be able to have Key, Messa, and Wonder all attack that round, I had her use her first skill instead, since it triggers a slightly more powerful followup attack/heal immediately.

This part's probably obvious, but in the two free rounds where Katayama is withdrawn and won't attack, I always had Summer Tomoko heal someone (whether anyone needed the healing or not, it allows them to inflict more Sparks for a round), Wonder use Oberon to buff everyone's attack, and Key and Messa guard.

As far as Wind's skills go, I'm admittedly not sure how useful her first one actually is on a boss who can't be knocked down like Katayama, so I mostly stuck to her third skill whenever her cooldown finished. I only used the first skill if I couldn't use the third.

All that said, I'm not sure how much this actually helps- I know Messa and Summer Tomoko are both limited 5-stars, so it's unlikely everyone has them- but I hope at least the core strategy makes a difference?

It might be possible to brute-force her fight, too, as long as you have a really good healer; I got all the way to the last pair of eyes (the last part of the final stage of the fight) with Morgana, Key, and Queen, and even with Summer Tomoko, Key, and Queen. If you can do enough damage to speed through the early stages of the fight, and heal enough to make up for Katayama's stronger attacks, you can probably make it work, but you might need to power up your team as much as possible beforehand (levels, weapons, cards, Persona skills) and some luck.

[thurio-edau]

okay, the history of my life with a narcissistic (i dont even know if i wrote that right) abusive elder sister and a fucked up family story. because i have to sort things out. there will be... a lot of things about me that i've never talked about before. you really don't have to read this. i just need to scream into the void.

warning. possible REALLY disturbing things ahead.

alright. here goes nothing.

i was a little child, three years younger than her. ever since i gained conciousness, due to living with her and staying in the same room, i had to be around my elder sister. and i was a naive child. i used to be a polyanna even... yeah. me. a polyanna. first of all,

anger issues are genetic in our family. mostly in my father's side but they exist in my mama's side too. my father has externalized anger issues, while my ma internalized. my sister always resembled our father in everything while i picked up after our mom. which, was also the case in our genetical anger problems.

externalized anger was always the same. yelled, screamed, fought, hit, then pretend like nothing happened after the crisis. and the internalized would silently take whatever happened and never fight back, but instead of having that nothing-happened feeling the internalized would keep it. keep it in and activate their anger themselves, but also towards themselves. never out. this caused bottled up rage and self-inflicted damage, physical or mental. and it'd stay, the external passed but the internal never did. it remained and turned into sadness, suffering, agony and pain.

the dynamic, external and internal dynamic, always remained the same way. like my father and my mom, it was the same in my sister and i. and for some fucking dumb reason i don't even know both me and mom are soft, forgiving people that always feel bad to act slightly rude. we're just like that. we are too soft. we are too forgiving. just like how she forgave father and still loved him. i would cover my ears in my bed at night while my father yelled at her, his voice increasing always terrified me. i was scared. but my mom still forgave him and loved him. and i was the same with my sister.

i was a fucking child just wanting to be loved. for complicated and long reasons, i hardly saw my father growing up. i'll try to explain. my father, for years, was blamed for terrorism and he spent years prisoned. a few years he was in, but a few years he ran away just to work and provide for his family. he's not a bad person. he tried to care. he tried to, but he didn't know how to do certain things. and when he ran away, he had to work on smaller jobs to not get caught. when he was caught however, we had a long period of time where we fought severe income problems. without a father and an uneducated housewife mom, everything was hard for us. my father was prisoned, and i hardly saw him for long years. there were monthly meetings however, but just those. there were also phone calls but as i said, i was a child. so there wasn't much to be said.

and my mama used antideprassants. without anyone to support her financially any emotionally, and having her husband far away, while dealing with her own traumatic childhood, away from her home, as a mother raising two kids, life was hard for her. she tried, she tried so damn hard, to raise us. she seemed strong for us, she laughed with us, she read us stories to sleep and always tried to make us happy and feel like nothing was happening. and she succeeded. i wasn't even aware of everything for long years.

but for a lot of things we had to depend on other people. grandmother, aunts, uncles... and my mom grew up in an environment where she was seen as an extra. some help. not as a human being. for that she saw getting help as being a burden. while her thoughts didn't go through my sister's thick skull, i was a much more sensible child. too sensible in fact. so i grew up in the same mindset as my mom. never depend on others. be your own person because you're a weakling if you need help. you're just a burden if you need other people and can't stand on your own. i had the same mindset. i was a fucking child.

and our personalities were done by the time. before my father was prisoned, since my sister was the first child, she was given a lot of care. she was a gifted child; reading newspapers at three years old, writing good, maths and science, learning a lot of things, gripping stuff easily, smart... and the care given to her boosted her ego a lot. she wanted attention. when i was born, the attention went to her still. because c'mon, they had a gifted child. i was a silent, calm child. probably nothing like her. so the attention still went to her. it made her feel as if the world was only around her. when my father was prisoned, it only kept going on. my mother gave us equal love and care, but my elder sister already had her ego damn high.

she always saw herself as something perfect, above all else. which included me too. she trashed me, always yelled at me, hurt me, yet she acted the perfect daughter. because i couldn't talk. because i, despite being pushed aside by her (and by her manipulation for years, our cousins because we grew up together with them and she was the same age as them) (except for nola, she's three years younger than me) and being bullied, hurt, i still yearned for her love. i remember it so damn vividly. i would draw hearts and make cutouts for her, i would try to do stuff she loved, just to have some worth and care in her eyes. just for her to love me. i still saw her as my sister because that's what she was. i lived together with her, i was around her, and i was touch starved as a child. no father around to care -and he always cared for her 'gift' more than he cared for me- and having our cousins by her side, i was always pushed away. i wanted love too, care too, attention too, and i tried so fucking hard for years just for her to love me too.

but it never worked. seeing how i was still around her it only made her worse. she did worse. i have had derealization issues since childhood. i had existensal crisises, real life issues, derealization and depersonalization issues as a child. i always mixed real life with my imagination, with my daydreams and night dreams. maybe i imagined some of the abuse. i still don't know if it was real or a dream, but it felt damn real and i remember it vividly. the damage was already done. and it was irreversible. and i still tried to get her to love me and to care for me. i remember us going to our aunt's vacation site for summers and she befriended everyone in the site and played with them and got them to bully me. and what did i do? i still tried. i still tried to get some love from her and the people there. random people i didn't know, but they were her friends, so they should be my friends too right? it hurt so damn much but i still tried. i still tried to have some love and care, some attention, in hopes that i'd also be included. but the same happened everywhere. alone with her, with our cousins, with her friends, it always happened. but i still tried. i was desperate to get the attention i couldn't get from our father and her. from our cousins, the only people around us. because i realized our mom was only putting up a facade in front of us. i faced real life when i was eight years old. and once you realize your mom's happiness is just a facade you realize how everything is fake. i even doubted her sometimes.

reminder on just how fucked up the situation was: i was eight years old.

yet i was a polyanna. i tried to be a polyanna. i tried to smile and laugh because my mom was doing the same. my mom was crying by herself and smiling for us, my mom was using medication while dying inside, my mom was dealing with her childhood. and i picked up after her. if she smiled, laughed, to make others feel happy and love her, i should do the same right? no matter how unloved i felt, if i did the same, i would have what i wanted right? now that i look back i realize how fucking desperate i was. i tried my whole life for some care and i never got it. and i still laughed and tried again. i mean, if i'm not gonna have what i wanted, at least not make others feel bad. at least make them happy right? so i still laughed. i had the perfect fake smile by the time i was nine.

i was at elementary school. i tried again. and this time? it worked. with that smile, with that laugh, i was able to have 'friends'. i felt important, the polyanna had people around 'her' by acting like a sunshine. i was in the school bus. i spent first grade in the same school bus as my sister because we went to the same school, she was fourth grade then. and i was silent in the bus. because she was there. and the people the same age as her actually bullied me that whole year when i was like seven. but once she was gone, when i was in second grade and she (also those with her) were in middle school, i could shine in the school bus. i talked, laughed, smiled when she was away. and there i had people around me too. people loved the polyanna. i succeeded. it may have took me years but i won what i wanted. i had people around me at school. i loved school in elementary. because it was the only place i had people that cared. or at least felt like it, but i had friends and i wasn't alone.

how happy, right? well. even though i had what i tried for so long, some attention and love, i still felt... an emptiness. while i didn't have that emptiness at school with my 'friends', i had it again as soon as i left. it always returned when i was alone again. it always returned when i was home again. so i tried again. to fill that void, again, with my elder sister. try to have her love again because i couldn't tire my mom. she was already tired. i didn't want to exhaust her. i tried to get love from my sister, from my cousins, i tried.

and i got attention from our aunts. i loved them so much, our aunts and uncles loves me so much. i even think they adored me more than my sister. the only people that cared for me more than they cared gor her gift was them. and i loved them so much. but seeing that the attention wasn't always on her (and they also loved her a lot, just that they gave us equal attention or a teensy bit more to me) my sister got mad. she had a high ego while she crushed mine since i gained conciousness. so she hurt me about it behind the curtains. she'd pressure me like 'they spoiled you so much' 'you're so selfish' 'you never care about others' 'you're too spoiled' which eventually became such a key stone in my mind. and the burden mindset was placed. i started to feel like a burden around everyone. because i was spoiled. i was selfish for wanting their love. i was selfish for being touch starved. and by time that emptiness took over. i started to never think about myself then. i always put other people ahead of myself, yeah, but that got extreme then. i forgot i was a being. because i wasn't anymore. i was just a burden, a pain, something selfish that doesn't deserve anything it's getting. something so selfish that it didn't know what the real world was, something so selfish it only lived inside it's own mind, mixed the reality with it's daydreams where it was cared about. so by time that became my whole personality.

when i was ten years old that was all i knew. i just knew that i was simply nothing, thinking anything i save for myself is being selfish. thinking i was a burden. the satisfaction i acquired by having people i loved in school gave it's place to emptiness. because i wanted to be loved, that for sure was selfishness and only made me a burden to the people i wanted attention from, right? of course. what a logical thing to believe. how smart of you, little polyanna. but i believed it. i was a naive kid. there, i was now a full blown people pleaser. the 'friends' i had were only people for me to be around to make them happy. it was a one way road. and with that i still panicked, am i being a burden?

then i got into middle school... the school part is different, this is just the family. wild stuff happened at school so my mentality already went shit.

so when i was at 5th or 6th grade, my father got back. he was searched for a while (but not very much searched. cops invaded our house just a few times) but he was escaping. i had my father back, but he was a stranger. he wasnt here while i was growing up, what was i supposed to do? he was like a big friend that we saw once a month. now he was constantly with us... and he realized the elder daughter he left wasnt the same. thats when it all went downhill.

it was good for a while. our income increased (not greatly, but an increase was an increase) and we now had a father! it was good, right? no. since we only saw him once a month, he was always smiley around us. loving. caring. but those values leave when you always see the person. because now youre with them every day. and that was exactly what happened. he was strict, he demanded there be dinner ready at 19.30 when he was coming home from work. he would get mad if all of us werent in the kitchen, helping our mom set the dinner. he would yell. it didnt usually get physical, but... that didnt mean never.

his anger issues became more apparent day by day. and my elder sister is like a carbon female copy of him, with added emotional things and lots of ego. so what happens if you put an angry father in the same house as the 'gifted' but burning out daughter, who is really self-centered? chaos.

every day almost, it was yelling. yelling and yelling and yelling. i learnt to mask my emotions, i learnt to be the wall. i learnt to shut my door and put my earphones on. i learnt to close my eyes, to ignore, then to smile and act like i loved them the same. but every time, i hated them both more. my insomnia started at 6th grade. after we went to sleep, the yelling would continue. because he couldnt take his anger out of a 12 year old, right? then his yelling went to my mom. even after they shut up and went to sleep like nothing happened, i would cry in my bed, covering my ears because his voice still rang in my ears. any kind of yelling started to trigger me. i feared my own father at 9 years old, how do i not fear anyone else?

some days my sister and i would go out together to the market. i tried to be around her because i still yearned for her love. she just used me as a rambling dump. because, i cant deny it, a lot of pressure was put on her because of her gift. she had a lot of people expecting much from her, she was sent to special schools while i was in public schools, she had people looking at her. so she would turn the pressure on her to me. to this day she still tells me that since all the pressure went to her, i was set free. she said 'they put us in the same scale. if our father makes me do something, he counts is as you did too. they think you're the same as me.' what she doesn't realize is they're also thinking of me as a smaller version of her. the pressure put on her is being reflected to me. anyways, during one of those days. i never forget. as i said, i always loved and forgave everyone. which included both my father and sister. i remember her say, 'i just want him to stay because he's getting money.' her only care for our father was that he was working. she was 12 years old.

i learnt to not use money. i always felt the heaviness of it. my father often talked about it, how it was hard to get by. debt, debt, debt, debt... i saw what i wanted as extras. i ignored my wants. i even ignored my needs. i refused each time my mom asked to get me anything new. i have clothes, i dont need new ones. its old, its ripped, i dont care. i have it. i dont need a new one. my shoes ripped open. its still working, i dont need anything. i started to deny everything offered to me. i didn't need to eat because that meant they would eat less. after a while, numbness arrived. also reminding that i had a school life that was going fucked up too. i was constantly bullied by people i called my friends back then. but i said nothing. i was already a burden, anything i do was a burden.

i didnt tell them i was bullied. i didnt tell them i lost all my friends. i didnt tell them i was feeling like nothing, i didnt tell them i needed help. i remember, a TV series was made. it was about a psychiatrist's patients. one day, when i was beside my mom, she was watching and the patient gave a big amount of money to pay for the visit. my mom said, '[deadname], dont have anything happen to you. look at how expensive that is.'

to her it was just a comment. she didnt even think. but it made me push away my mental needs.

i was just something that made our family lose money. i was worth nothing. that was all i was thinking. i was a burden, a pain, i was only hurting them by existing. i was ten fucking years old. i started wanting to die.

then the quarantine arrived... god. i was now stuck in the same house as both my father and sister. i wanted to escape them so i started sleeping in the fucking balcony until winter. it was my safe haven, far away from everyone. my father pressured my studies and online classes. he had strict rules. he, once again, was making me hate him. and during these days, things with my sister got weird. or was it before quarantine? i dont know.

so my sister now didnt have as much attention as she used to. and she hated our father. but those days, i had become numb. i was like empty, a puppet my logic played. i smiled when needed, i fought when required; but never let my emotions let alone control, think about being in the charge of me. during these days, my cousins started to love me and hate my sister, during these days, i became close with nola. my sister lost the attention. she became extremely clingy. she said she changed in person, but the abuser never remembers what the abused does. i had trauma amnesia, yeah, but i had it in my mind.

i pushed her away this time. i got away from her. i was really rude to her, but in reality i was just protecting myself. and once again, yelling. she yelled whenever she didnt get what she wanted. and then acted like nothing happened right after. because she was just like our father, external anger issues. and i hated yelling now. i sometimes cried even when a voice raised slightly. i started reading people. a small change in tone made me think they hated me. i was terrified of everyone. paranoid. i acted tough, strong, i tried to be tough and strong. but inside i was bottling up everything. i ignored everything about myself and gave my all for others.

she got clingier. at this point i started to feel anger. the numbness somehow broke and i started to feel again, this time to just be angry all the time. but my anger was internalized, i couldnt reflect it outside. i just wasnt able to. besides, anything i did would add gasoline to the fire that was our 'family'. so i started to relieve the anger by self harm. the difference is that, back then the cuts i made weren't permanent marks. now they are.

my sister tried to connect with me. but since it all turned into yelling, even after we successfully talked, it just broke me. i was now far more rude. i pushed her away at every chance. i lost my forgiving side against her.

stopped eating. because who cares? my sister knows. she knows i have one. she just doesnt give a fuck. she doesnt care that im killing myself with this.

fast forwarding the two years. in this space, my father got arrested once and for all then was set free. after that he got a really good job that was his dreams, to work on robots. but he had to move to another city for that. everything calmed down then. i now could keep my eating disorder the way i wanted because i didnt have a father forcing dinner on us every day. he was lost with his strictness. he only got home at weekends... which also caused chaos. dont think this means i hate my family. i love my mom forever. i love my father, mostly. and, i might never admit it, but i care about my sister too. i hate her but... yeah. i want her to go away, but i dont want anything bad happen to her either. because im still too fucking soft. i ignore all her abuse. now she hates me again. she bullies me whenever she can... but also tries again to have my attention. its complicated. she's really emotional, she cries a lot. i hugged her when she cried the other day. i wanted to break my own arms for it. i dont want to be around her. but i have to.

the other day i directly told to her, 'you destroyed my life.' she immediately denied. but its my life. that you dont know of. you dont know what you caused me, you dont know what i went through. you destroyed my life. but i still cant help but care about you. you took everything from me. but i still have our connection, and its sacred for me.

as much as i want to cut it off.

yeah. i cried multiple times while writing this. i rememberred a lot of stuff i forgot. i dont think anyone will read my sister story -at least whole that i can remember now- anyway cause its way too long.

and im sorry if you read all this. im a fucking mess. this is just the family part, there is the school part too but i dont know if i'll write that. sometimes i doubt myself, 'maybe im overreacting what i went through. maybe im not depressed and just want attention.' but after this... i, really really dont know what to say. im so done. im so tired. im so fucking tired. i wanted to kill myself since i was ten years old. i almost killed myself a few times. im so tired. its not that i want to die, i realized. its that i dont want to live this. i just want to rest, please. i just need to be alone. far away from this 'family' that will throw me away. im so fucking tired. im so fucking done. im so exhausted of cutting myself and then having to bandage it. having to hide my arm. im so fucking tired of wanting to throw my whole stomach out each time i eat. im so fucking sick of closing my eyes and not being able to sleep.

im so done with my mood swings. im so done with looking at the mirror and seeing someone i dont want to be. im so done with looking at my non-working antideprassants and wanting to overdose on them. im so done with standing on the roof, wanting to jump down. im so done with everything. im so done.

someone save me from this hell this loophole i dont want to be in this pain please i dont want to have to feel this every single fucking day i want to be normal for once i want to feel loved accepted cared about cherished everything i wasnt given as a child

save me

please

its hard to breathe

[treehuggerthegreat]

something i really need to get off my chest even if i just post this privately is That i really dislike ‘caretakers’ in whump writing. or ‘whumper’ i feel like it makes a character (even if they’re just a hypothetical one) feel very 1 dimensional and it makes me so OKAY JUST HEAR ME OUT!!! whumpee i don’t mind much, it makes the prompt or what your talking about a little clearer. But it feels like it’s putting it into a box and making sort of roles which makes it feel less like a prompt and more like we’re in an omega verse fandom and i mean this really lovingly and affectionately and no hate to any of yall. I have a vast amount of characters and i write stories and books and I can say with out a shadow of a doubt, not ONE of them fall under ‘whumper’ or ‘caretaker’ because i develop them as their own individual character. Not even my antagonist are ‘whumpers’

So one of my main antagonists literally burns cigarettes on the MC and abuses the MC. Tries to kill her on her 18th birthday. Shes her mom, and the main character PHYSICALLY cannot leave that situation with out getting the authorities involved until she turns 18. Mom sounds like an ass, she beats ‘whumpee’ up! why would i NEVER call her a whumper? because she’s a whumpee by that logic. Her mom was extremely emotionally abusive, and half the time not fully there. Her shitty ass dad got murdered in front of her when she was just a kid. but Her mom isn’t a whumper either, because she too would be considered a whumpee. She was a world renowned flapper girl, everyone loved her. she LIVED for the fame and her face in newspapers. But behind the scenes she was actively ignoring her distant parents as they continued to try and marry her off. She was then forced into the marriage when she got pregnant with the guy (much so against her will which is why she killed him.) and ever since she’s been delusional and not fully there. It’s generational abuse.

more ramble under the cut + extra clarification on what I’m trying to say

okay but that’s just generational abuse right? There are other whumpers in the real world! Yeah i guess there’s sadists and serial killers, but like, there’s SOOOO much more guys.

I have a mini antagonist, he’s in highschool and he’s meant to be the toxic narcissistic ex of one of my characters. But he’s falling apart trying to get attention, he’s not fully aware of the damage he IS doing. Ass he may be but again behind the scenes he’s constantly fighting with his dad who refuses to do anything around the house and who is also transphobic (she’s bigender but i’ve been using he to make it less confusing right now) and now she has to take care of her little sister and act like a whole ass mom. As a sophomore. In high school. Not only that but her mom died, so she has to struggle with that. She’s just an annoying ass teenager, she doesn’t understand how to treat people or how she’s supposed to be handling what she’s dealing with. But getting attention and being liked at school? now that’s the shit. That’s like drugs for her. But to what lengths does she go to get that extra validation? He uses his boyfriend almost like an accessory. He’s not considerate of his feelings, and most likely doesn’t understand what a relationship is SUPPOSED to be.

Unless you’re making a sociopath character, which i LOVE a good sociopath character, you have to treat them like they also have humanity. Most of the time villains don’t just. Do shit to do it, they have some sort of background that lead up to this!!! And also even then with sociopaths they’re their own individual characters separate from the people they hurt!!! and also NONE of these are end all be alls and all characters must be developed this way!!!!

just my advice and stuff <3 i love all of you out there and i can understand why using certain roles and terms are the go to, and i’m not stopping you!!! i just really wanted to give my two cents so i can possibly help other writers!!!

[circyexistforcontent]

There's a team comp event yay

So like uh I have 3 teams that actually work to dps

Team Ganyu is Kokomi, Ganyu with Yelan's weapon, Diona and Shenhe, who shares a Sands with Klee and Wanderer (Hajime)

Team Nahida is Kokomi, Nahida, Keqing or Klee, and Yelan or Diona who shares her entire artifact set with Yaoyao because Tenac is a pain in the ass. When I use Yelan I take Aqua Simulacra from Ganyu and put it on Yelan. Ganyu has a Skyward Harp anyway

Team Scaramochi is Hajime, Faruzan, Benny and Kokomi. Benny is often exchanged for Diona. I've been debating putting Yelan instead sometimes.

Feel free to choose whichever one lol 🤗

TEAMP COMP: WANDERER, FARUZAN, BENNY, KOKOMI FT. DIONA Note: I-I'll take the last team, please, I just came back to the genshin fandom I don't know most of this information-

♥ Poor Kokomi, why did you place her on this team? She has to deal with both Wanderer and Faruzan arguing with each other, along with Benny's sulking self and bad luck always sabotaging the team. Diona is just sipping on some juice she made back at her home and smiles, thinking about the time you will come and use her again.

♥ Kokomi, despite being a Hydro sub-DPS, still takes the place of a leader due to her experience back at Watatsumi Island. She helps with the team and plans a strategy so their damage can be higher and you'll use their team more often. It is a bit hard due to you having two Anemo vision users on the team, but with Benny and Diona she can make a plan easily. Still, she burns herself out with how much she carries this team. Wanderer is stubborn, claiming that he'll only follow your orders and not hers, he sometimes even goes out of the plan when fighting in domains. Faruzan is okay, she follows the plan and even helps Kokomi, but that doesn't mean she's out of the problem. Faruzan eggs on Wanderer when he mentions how he's the better Anemo user, causing the both of them to fight. Benny and DIona are the only sweethearts in this team, and are the only ones Kokomi appreciates.

♥ Faruzan has been trapped inside a ruin for a century. Who wouldn't become paranoid about being alone again? She wants to cling to you and never let go. She will do her best in the challenges! She will also do as many commissions as possible for you! Just please don't bench her! That being said she clashes a lot with Wanderer, or Hajime as you call him, due to him being possessive of you. She thinks Wanderer shouldn't be on the team if he's not willing to cooperate with Kokomi, by extension not willing to help you progress more in the game. She stands by her own beliefs and does not back down when an argument arises between the two of them. She's not going to use her weapon, she's more professional than that. But if it's needed to get a point across Wanderer's head, maybe it isn't a far possibility.

♥ Wanderer is possessive, the reason why is explained in his past. He's trying to be a better person after being given a chance by Kusanali, but he still falls back down every time he sees you close to one of the characters. He tries to get your attention through voice lines that were not in the game, to doing idle animations you've never seen before. Can you take the hint of what he's trying to tell you? (you just wanted to play genshin-) Why do you need another Anemo user when you already have him? With that in mind, he doesn't like Faruzan. He thinks she's being overbearing and selfish with your attention, and you already know what happens when a clingy yandere and a possessive yandere have the same love interest. They fight. A lot. Kokomi had to hold him back so many times before the fight turns physical. Just, be careful about who you pay more attention too. Better yet, split their time equally.

♥ Benny is sad that he gets switched often with Diona, but understands. You need someone who doesn't have a curse holding them back from doing their best. He's alright with seeing his new adventure team running around without him. He's definitely not on the verge of tears! When he's not in your team, he sits on the bottom of your statue off-screen. It brings him a little comfort being near you in some way, and your statue is the second closes thing aside from being in your control. His dads comfort him, saying that you're just giving him a day off after he works so hard for your team. It doesn't do much, he wants to always be on your team! He doesn't need a day off. He is a little jealous of DIona, but he's not going to fight her. He thinks it'll only upset you further so he holds back any anger that threatens to spill over.

♥ Diona is smug. Haha! She knew her talents would soon be acknowledged by you. She works to make her shields better than they already are, even practicing how to use her bow better so that she always hits her target. She doesn't mind her team, at least, not as much. She scampers away to hide behind Kokomi whenever Faruzan and Hajime start fighting so as to not get involved or affected by the fight. But she's willing to deal with this team if it means being a step closer to you!

♥ I feel like this team wouldn't work out properly. But with Kokomi, it will somehow still work out. Benny's elemental burst is useful for the team and Diona's shield provides a lot of support for the other three team members. Faruzan and Wanderer strive to hit higher numbers just for you, killing off the mobs easily and ending the challenge quickly. It's a big contrast to when they are offline...