#mike if you’re reading this you can have this one free of charge

[kaphkas]

I know Flanagan’s Dark Tower series will likely be excellent, but as is the nature of all book-to-screen adaptations, it’s never quite going to measure up to the version that exists in my head. Specifically the montage at the end of the first episode where we’re introduced to Eddie, Susannah and Jake (at this point still living their sad, lonely lives in New York), while Les Fleurs by Minnie Riperton plays, culminating in the reveal of the rose in the vacant lot right before we smash-cut to credits as the song reaches its crescendo

[turbulentscrawl]

Ganji Gupta General HCs

I'm unable to make a header for Ganji at the moment, but I'll add one to the post later when I can get on my good desktop.

Edit: Added!

-First of all, in case it isn’t clear, Ganji started the fire. However, it’s important to note that Ganji chose arson for a few specific reasons. Plausible deniability was one. The second was that a fire gave people a chance to escape. Ganji believes in something along the lines of karma (I’m not especially religious or philosophical myself so I don’t feel inclined to pick one in particular for him), and a fire better allowed that to step in and save his targets. If the universe or whatever higher power, decided they deserved to live then they would, and Ganji could rest assured that they weren’t a wholly bad person. All but that child perished in the smoke and flames, though, so that settles that doesn’t it?

-Ganji is a man suffering from disillusionment. This is the result of him being taken advantage of. He left everything behind, came to another county just for the sport he loved, for his passion, only to find out that he was seen as nothing more than a novelty item. Something—not even a someone—kept around because his very existence was “amusing.” Disgusting.

-And it all happened because he’s naïve. He knows this, and just about everyone that’s around him for more than a day knows it, so now he’s incredibly protective of that aspect of himself. He’s not self-conscious of it or anything, he knows that naivety is just as aspect of someone being kind and trusting, but he’ll be damned if he lets someone else use him to their benefit again.

-Like Andrew, he’s developed a tendency to be sharp and reclusive as a defense mechanism. However, his emotional walls aren’t as thick, as dense. In a way, his hurt runs less deep because he doesn’t have self-hatred to factor into the cocktail of his pain. He warms to people faster and has a sweeter disposition under his cover…but you’ll have to be persistent if you want to get to that point. Ganji will shrug off offerings of kindness several times before giving someone a chance.

-In-line with his kindheartedness, but counter to the façade he puts up, Ganji can’t ignore someone else in real need. His mask falls as soon as someone’s peace or safety are threatened. He’s either the greatest hero or the biggest liability to have in a match because he can and will charge head-long into a hunter if it means saving another survivor. Even the ones he doesn’t like all that much. Additionally, he’s generally willing to argue on behalf of someone not willing to speak up for themselves.

-This boy is hard-headed. Stubborn! There are so many stupid hills he’s willing to die on. But he’s also not very good at arguments (which is unfortunate, considering the above hc), he stumbles over his words a lot, jumbles his points up. He sounds a lot more put-together in writing than in person, but his handwriting is atrocious so honestly good luck reading it. Poor guy is at a communication crossroads and both roads lead to embarrassment.

-As one might guess, this all makes Ganji very one-track minded in matches…and with most of his problems in life. Something wrong, anything? Swing the bat. At a ball, at a head. You know, whatever the situation calls for.

-His nativity also means that he doesn’t pick up on flirtation well. Someone either has to be very direct or very patient for Ganji to pick up on their interest. When he does catch on, he’s hesitant to reciprocate. He can’t deny the appeal of relationships, but he hasn’t had one since before he left home. Things are different. Really different, considering the manor…but it’s not hard to convince the guy to give love a chance as long as you’re not overly pushy.

-He spends a lot of free time at the manor trying to get people to play cricket with him. It doesn’t matter that no one else is really good at it, he just misses playing. William and Mike are the only ones who agree regularly, and that’s certainly not enough people. Most others only play along for Ganji’s birthday.

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 5, Prompt: Role Model (and Brave if you squint)

read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Eddie Month series

“Will’s out of practice, but I think he’s excited to play again,” Mike says, sliding Eddie’s worn D&D notebook across the small hospital bed tray. “You know, when you’re up for it, of course. I mean, one of us could DM me or Will, I mean, but we’re not as good as you.” 

“Who told you flattery works on me, Wheeler?” Eddie jests, grinning up at him from his hospital bed. “Yeah, yeah, of course, I’ll DM something for you sheep. It’ll give me something to do in here while those government people work their cover-up magic.” 

Eddie watches as a smile takes over Mike’s entire face, eyes crinkling in the corner. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the kid so happy before. And all over a game. They really are nerds, aren’t they? Before Mike has time to give his input, something Eddie knows he is gearing up to do because he always has input, there’s a knock on the closed hospital door. 

“Mike?” Nancy calls as she cracks the door open. “There you are. The boys are looking for you. Something about a vending machine?” 

“Oh, shit,” Mike swears, eyes wide. 

“Duty calls?” 

“Yeah, we’re trying to bride the guy in charge of stocking the machine on Max’s floor to give us snacks for free,” he says, walking backward towards the door. “I’ll bring you back something if our mission is successful.” 

Eddie places a request for a Milky Way and a bag of chips, which Mike mentally notes before disappearing into the hallway. Nancy’s about to head out behind him, already pulling Eddie’s door shut when he calls out to her. 

“Got a minute, Wheeler Senior?” 

Nancy hovers in the doorway, nose turned up. “Only if you promise never to call me that again.” 

Eddie laughs, mimes crossing his heart as best he can earning a shake of Nancy’s head. Still, she steps into the room, closing the door behind her before making the short trip to his bedside. 

“How are you doing?” she asks, eyes scanning him from head to sock-covered toes. 

“Now that I’m finally awake, I just, uh, wanted to properly say thank you,” Eddie says, wincing as he tries to adjust his position in the bed. It’s already raised to a seated position, but he’s still not comfortable. His torso burns and the wires hooked up to him clink against the bed frame and it’s hell, but if he doesn’t adjust himself soon his foot is going to fall asleep and the only thing worse than getting nearly mauled to death by bats in a hell dimension is the feeling of pins and needles in his feet. 

“Thank me?” 

“Oh, don’t play coy, Wheeler. You saved my life,” Eddie says, finally settling on his side. “Henderson told me how you took over carrying me back after Harrington’s own wounds got the better of him. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course, I had to do that! I wasn’t going to let you die down there.” 

“I wouldn’t have blamed you. I mean, I almost got us all killed.” 

“You— what?” Nancy asks, eyes wide in confusion. Reaching behind her, she grabs the spare chair (the one Wayne’s been sleeping in every chance he gets) and drags it towards the bed. The legs screech against the linoleum tile, but it doesn’t seem to phase her. “You saved us, Eddie. Saved Dustin, definitely.” 

“Tell that to his fractured leg.” 

Nancy shakes her head and reaches for his hand that doesn’t have an IV needle shoved into it. She looks at him with a face of determination. One not unlike the face she had when she explained their plan two weeks ago in the stolen Winnebago. This is Nancy on a mission. Except, Eddie’s not sure what the mission is this time. 

“Stop,” she says, squeezing his hand. “Just stop, okay? You didn’t fail us or whatever you think you did. You kept Dustin safe. You bought us more time. I would have liked it if you didn’t use your body as bait.” She glances at his exposed arms, wrapped in gauze, some already bloody again. “But you did what you had to do. We all did what we had to do. And we’re alive. That’s all that matters.” 

“Yeah, but I—“

“No,” she scolds, glaring at him this time. “I don’t want to hear it. You don’t get to downplay what you did or think you’re some— some fuck up. Because you’re not. You are a hero. A brave hero! And I won’t let you say those things about yourself, especially not when Mike could overhear you. You’re his role model, you know?” 

It hurts to laugh, but it bubbles out of him anyway. It’s not the happy kind of laughter, though. It’s of the unamused variety. The kind of laughter he’s used at aiming at Jason and the rest of the jocks in the Hawkins High cafeteria. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Wheeler. M’not that kid’s role model.” 

“You are, though,” she says, doubling down. “Mike never shuts up about you. He was miserable this summer when the Byers moved, and he realized he was starting school without his best friend and girlfriend. I swear he almost jumped out of my car on that first day of school. So imagine my surprise when he climbed in the car at the end of the first day with a genuine smile on his face.”

“All I did was give him a place to eat lunch.” 

“No, you gave him so much more than that. Mike’s always had friends, sure, but he’s never had a role model. Not like the others do. I mean, Dustin has Steve, which is weird. but it somehow works. Will has Jonathan. Lucas has his dad. But Mike? Mike’s always sort of floundered in the role model department. I mean, you’ve seen our dad. He doesn’t exactly get Mike.”

“What? And I do?” Eddie asks, still not entirely buying Nancy’s words. Though, he should know better than to doubt Nancy Wheeler. After all, this is the girl who has guns, plural, in her bedroom. 

“Yeah, you do. More than either of you realize.”

Eddie considers that for a moment. Thinks about the way Mike’s cheeks have always turned the slightest shade of pink in his presence. The way he always, always found a way to bring up Baby Byers in conversations. The memory is hazy, but he remembers watching him in those first few hours he woke up from the coma. Mike reaching for Will’s arm when Eddie’s eyes fluttered open.

And then he thinks of himself. The lingering glances he’s snuck in the hallways. The flirtatious jabs he threw Steve’s way when he was running for his life, sure he was going to die. 

Once again, he’s left stunned by Nancy. Though, really, he should have seen this one coming. She is a journalist, after all. It’s her job to be observant. 

“Alright, fine,” Eddie concedes. “Maybe I’m Mike’s role model. But if I’m being straight with you, Wheeler. I don’t think I’m going to be any good at the job.” 

“You’re already good at the job,” she says, squeezing his hand once last time before pulling away. “Just keep it up. And you know, get better so you can play that damn game of yours.” 

“You know, there’s always room for more players at the table.” 

Nancy laughs as she peels herself off the chair. “You’re funny, Eddie. Unfortunately, I’ve got a real battle to get ready for. Not to offend, but I prefer to take on the monsters in real life now.” 

He shakes his head, smiling fondly as Nancy makes her way to the door. “You know, if anyone should be Baby Wheeler’s role model, it’s you.” 

“Yeah, well, Mike’s still a stupid teenage boy,” she shrugs. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

Eddie salutes her before letting out an embarrassing yawn. Nancy muffles a laugh into her head before reaching for the door. “Hey, Eddie,” she says, glancing over his shoulder. Eddie hums, eyes already drooping. “For what it’s worth, you should also maybe stop being so hard on yourself when it comes to Steve. You’re good for each other.” 

* * * 

Eddie’s woken from his brief nap a few minutes later by Steve. “Was that Nance I saw leaving your room?” he asks, dumping an armful of vending machine snacks onto the hospital bed tray. The shitheads must have had a successful mission, after all. 

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie nods, dazed from being woken up and also the reality of Nancy’s final words to him finally hitting him. 

“Oh, no, I know that look,” Steve says, collapsing in the chair previously occupied by Nancy. He kicks his feet up on the edge of Eddie’s bed and tears into a bag of Doritos. “She gave you one of her ‘cut you to your core’ Nance speeches, didn’t she?” 

Eddie just nods. 

“Shit, I’ve been there,” Steve says, patting Eddie’s shoulder. “It sucks in the moment, but let me tell you. Eventually, you’ll realize she was right all along and thank her. Nance is never wrong.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, stealing a glance at Steve. “I’m never doubting her ever again.” 

[crazyk-imagine]

Hi I’m back again, I have a request for our dear Wolfman, again. Would you please write a 50 first dates ?

Thank you again for everything!

💛💛

Thinking of You

Pairing: (Henry Roth) Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe (Henry "Wolfman" Ruth) x (Lucy Whitmore) Fem!Reader

Characters: Fem!Reader, Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe (Henry "Wolfman" Ruth), Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, Carol Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, Ron “Slider” Kerner, Rick “Hollywood” Neven, Marcus “Sundown” Williams, Sam “Merlin” Wells, Charles “Chipper” Piper, Mike “Viper” Metcalf, Bill “Cougar” Cortell, Charlotte “Charlie” Blackwood, Penny Benjamin

Warnings: Fluff, angst, this is cute, Leonard is adorable, reader watches out for herself, everyone is protective of the reader and it's adorable, no fisherman here, only ranchers and cowboys, small town vibes, Iceman and Viper are the best, Pete can't cook for the life of his business, few funny moments, few serious moments here and there

Word Count: 5,307

A/N: I am so so sorry for taking forever with this one. I did not forget it, I promise. It was a whole thing with trying to find inspiration and rewatching the movie for research. But it... is... done!!!

Viper still refers to Bradley as a baby because he is (in his eyes)

Charlie is the horny German lady which I find hilarious

Yes, I used the TGM Squad as the kids for everyone who had children in the movie

The guys all have a work past with Viper

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

He takes a seat at the counter, minding his own business as he reads a menu.

You smile as you walk inside, you always love coming here and not just because you get to see Penny and Pete, your favorite couple at the restaurant but because you get to make your waffle buildings.

‘Maybe today I’ll build a hut. Oh, and for the steam we can use coffee.’

Penny notices there’s a little pep in your step while she hands you a menu. “How are you doing, Butterfly?”

You giggle, “I’m doing just fine.”

She smiles and tells you your table is free.

He sees you enter the restaurant, sitting down in one of the empty booths in the middle of the row.

Penny turns around filling another customer’s coffee, she notices the looks he’s sending your way and needs to stop it before things can progress, you don’t need any more heartache (even if you don’t remember it today).

It would also save him from meeting your dad, who’s in charge of the port, Viper aka Mike or your cousin, Iceman aka Tom.

“I wouldn’t,” she tells him.

He furrows his brows and turns towards the waitress. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You’ll only find yourself heartbroken if you try to pursue her.”

“What makes you say that?”

She purses her lips; she doesn’t find it necessary to tell him of your accident. But then she realizes he’s new and must be one of the few new cowboys that came into town.

“You’re gone for more than half of the year doing what you do. You’ve never met her but if you did and it was time to leave both of you would be crushed. Imagine how much that for a second.”

“Maybe she’d come with me.”

“She-” She sighs at the wound of glass breaking. “Excuse me while I go kick my husband out of the kitchen.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, Pen.”

“Out of the kitchen, Maverick," a new voice says.

He doesn't know it, but it was the actual cook, Marcus.

He sighs, pushing the doors open, taking a seat beside the man. “Sounds like you did good there.”

The dejected man chuckles, “yeah.”

“Hey. You happen to know that girl sitting in the booth, would you?”

Pete glances over his slumped shoulder. “What’s it to you?”

“Woah. Woah. Why is everyone so aggressive? I was just asking a question.”

“A question that shouldn’t be asked.”

“Okay. Message received.”

“You seem like the type who won’t take no for an answer?”

Leonard chuckles, “am I really that transparent?” He chuckles to himself as he takes a sip of his coffee until he turns back to look at Pete and realizes how serious this whole thing is. “Oh, shit. Sorry, I just thought-”

“She wouldn’t go for a guy like you,” a voice says sitting on the other side of the rancher.

The two men angle their bodies to hear the man better.

Pete gives him a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, thanks for that, Cougar. We don’t need to give it any more ideas.”

“First off, it has a name and oh, she’s trying to make a door.”

The two look back and focus on you trying to get the finishing touches to your waffle house done.

He debates on walking over to you after hearing everyone’s warnings.

Clearly no one here wants to see anything bad happen to you if they’re this willing to stop him before he could try anything.

He pushes himself out of the chair, grabs a toothpick before heading over to you.

“Hey,” he starts off not to startle you entirely before sticking the toothpick in place, opening and closing the door to show you how well it works. “I thought this might help you a little more.”

You glance up at him, giving him a smile. “Well, then I guess the only thing I can say is thank you. To be honest, it probably would have taken me five minutes to figure it out, so again, I thank you for saving me from any potential embarrassment.”

Leonard lifts his hat, “I always do what I can to help a beautiful lady such as yourself.”

“Ah, I bet you say that to everyone you see then.”

He chuckles. This certainly isn’t what he was expecting when he walked over, it's different, nice even. “May I,” he gestures to the empty side of the booth.

“Please, I’d like to look a little less pathetic in front of, well everyone here.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You flatter girls to get them in your bed and expect that very thing to happen, don’t you?”

“Uh- well,” he stutters.

You shrug, “doesn’t matter now. I’m just happy to have some company even if it’s just for a minute or two.”

“Well, then I’m happy to be of service.”

You dazzle him with another smile.

This is different from the other times he's gone out with girls.

You lift your watch to check the time. “Oh, looks like it's time for me to go. Sorry,” you sheepishly shrug as you reach for your bag.

“Uh- oh, okay. Yeah, I guess it’s time I went back to work.”

You get up and barely walk past him when you stop. “Is that you?”

“Is what me?”

“The farm smell?”

His mouth opens into an “o” making it obvious he now knows what you’re talking about. “Oh, yeah. Perks of being a rancher. Sorry about the smell. I didn’t realize it was so bad.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s- it’s not that. It’s just- it's more of a comfort thing. It reminds me of my family because my dad and my cousin are in the ranching business, and this is- the smell of, well the farm, is basically what I grew up with.”

He nods, “okay, good to know I don’t smell too much like shit.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Happy to help but I seriously have to go now.”

“Okay.”

You head over to Penny and pay her before saying bye to everyone.

Leonard shakes his head once he sees your car leave. “She sure is something else.” He then heads over to his car, sneakily watching you leave.

-

He spends the night talking to Rick, watching his kids. “So, you gonna ask her out?”

“Me?” Leonard shakes his head, pulling Rick’s youngest, Javy, away from the fence before his beloved (crazy) goat comes over and towards the edge to scare the kids.

The rancher isn't going to have his headbutting, crossed eyed goat injure another one of his friends' kids (even if it's on them because they didn't listen). “I- no.”

“You like her?”

The kids’ “ooh” at their dad’s comment.

“What? No. She’s just- she’s... busy?”

“Excuses.” He pushes himself off the fence, “come on kids. Your uncle needs alone time to process the fact that he’s a wimp.”

The kids mumble wimp under their breaths as they walk by.

He’s left alone with his thoughts.

-

“Did she get offered any drugs today?” Mike asks his nephew.

Tom shakes his head, “no and you know she wouldn’t take anything anyway.”

“She wouldn’t know.”

The blond glances over at the older man.

“Don’t give me that look boy.”

Neither of them says anything else as they go their separate ways before going out to the garage so they can repaint the wall.

Nick and Carole walk to the open space, "hey guys."

"Do you know what got her in such a happy mood today?" Mike asks.

The couple glance at one another.

"When we went to get food, Penny said that one of the new ranchers came in and talked to her, but I don't know what happened," Carole tells him.

"A new rancher?"

She nods. "Yeah, he's the only one here who wears his hat twenty-four seven."

"And you don't know anything about this?" Tom asks Nick.

The mustached man narrows his eyes at him, "if we knew anything else we would have told you."

"I'm just checking, mother Goose. No need to get your p-"

Mike smacks his nephew on the back of his head. "Stop it. Nick take another roll and again, thank you for the food, Carole. If you could just-"

"Set it on the counter for later, I'd be happy to."

"How's life been with the baby?"

"It's been great. I know it makes her sad that we can't bring him around here. All they've wanted since they were kids was for their kids to be friends and hangout all the time."

Mike sighs, "yeah."

Carole sneaks up the stairs to check on you. She barely opens the door and sees you standing there, a smile breaks across her face. She's happy to know that you're safe and sound for another day.

-

The next day is a weird one... for Leonard.

He had no idea what was going to happen when he made his way to the restaurant, and he most certainly wasn’t expecting you to not remember him (and mean it).

Sure, he’s had a few girls say they don’t remember him but after some persuading and mentions of certain clues, they break, this time with you though, not so much.

A few minutes passed after you ran out until someone explained to him why he shouldn’t continue doing what he’s doing.

“Everyone knows but,” Penny sighs. “She was in an accident that killed her mom and left her with what the doctors believe to be permanent brain damage.”

That is the last thing Leonard was expecting to learn about you. “All those light threats make sense now.”

“Now that you know, are you going to keep trying to date her?” Penny asks him. "Because if you’re not and you break her heart, you can just leave now. We won’t tolerate that kind of behavior.”

He nods and finishes his coffee, coming up with a few ideas.

-

Rick lounges on his couch, as usual, and watches as his friend jots down a few things. “You must really like this girl if you’re so willing to do just about anything for her.”

Leonard shrugs, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“Well, you’re doing something really nice for her, someone you’ve met a few times. As for me, your best friend barely gets a birthday card.”

“You’ve been giving yourself your own gift every year.”

“Oh, yeah and what’s that?”

“Your kids.”

“Damn, you’re good.”

-

He sits at the counter in front of the kitchen, waiting for you to come in so he can ask to eat with you.

You enter, at the same time as always, greeting Penny and Pete before sitting down to look at the menu.

He stands up and walks over to you, “hey, is this seat taken?”

You look up from the menu, “yeah, that’s my boyfriend's seat.”

“Oh, it is?”

You nod, “and he won’t be happy to know that some random guy sat there while talking to his girlfriend.”

“What if we say we’re just friends?”

“Are we though? I mean, I don’t even know your name.”

“Leonard.”

“I wasn’t asking. Look, I gotta go.”

Everyone hears the commotion outside and runs out to see what’s happening, Penny and Leonard being the fastest to get outside when they hear your voice.

“It’s not- it’s October thirteenth.”

Nick slams his car door closed before rushing over, wrapping his arms around you, wanting to give you some kind of protection.

Leonard takes a step forward, ready to tell the cop everything when Penny gets to him first.

Pete grabs the cowboy, “you and Goose are gonna take her home. She needs to be with her family right now. She needs comfort.”

He nods, taking his words into consideration.

The boys get you into the car, but the ride home is a blur, you don’t even know if you’ve responded to Leonard.

-

Your father and cousin are outside before you know it.

"What happened?" Mike asks, taking in your state of distress.

Nick looks up at the older man with sad eyes. "She found out again."

He closes his eyes, rubbing his chin.

Tom comes to your other side, the two men helping you inside.

The mustached man stops the rancher before he could step any further onto his front porch. "I'm gonna have to stop you right there."

Leonard furrows his brows. "What do you mean?"

"You being here isn't good for her."

"What does that mean?"

"This is something we've done before. You have never been involved."

"How would you know?"

"You don't know her, and you don't need to concern yourself with her. I'm asking you once and only once. It's time for you to go."

The man turns around, not even waiting to see if he's going to walk away.

Nick peaks through the window, whispering, "what are you doing?"

Leonard rushes closer. "He kicked me out."

"He doesn't want her to be more heartbroken than she is. Are you here for her or for you?"

"What- why are you asking?"

"If you're here because you want to date her, I'll let you in. If not, you can turn your sorry ass around."

He didn't even have to hesitate. "Open the door."

The blond smiles and lifts the windowpane higher. "You said you'd open the door."

"I'd like to not have my ass kicked too bad, thank you."

He rolls his eyes and crawls through, listening to your cries as you listen to what you went through again.

"Can we- I want to talk to the doctor." You quietly hiccup, "I'm sure I've already talked to him but let me go again. Please?" You ask your father.

He nods and you all are off to the facility you were in for some time after your accident.

-

"It's the same thing I've told you before," Dr. Simpson finishes.

You nod, "I'm sure you have, and I appreciate you taking the time to explain it to me again."

Leonard and Nick were stuck talking to one of the patients, (ten second) Sam.

"Hi, I'm Sam."

They nod and introduce themselves to him and continue to do so until Tom grabs them by their collars, hauling them out of the building.

"You two idiots wanted to stay. Stop getting distracted."

-

Once you got home, you decided to go to your room and write in your journal, needing to process everything.

"Would it- could I go talk to her?"

Mike silently nods.

"Go get 'em, tiger."

Nick averts his gaze your dad's stern look.

-

He knocks on the door, waiting for you to answer as he removes his hat.

The door swings open.

You stare at him through your lashes. "What do you want?"

"To talk. Check on you."

"I'm fine. Go home. I'd say I'll talk to you tomorrow, but I'll forget you by midnight." You walk back into your room, leaving the door open.

He takes that as an invitation and enters. "I- uh-"

"I don't want you to feel like you have to stay after everything you’ve learned. I would understand if you didn't want to talk anymore."

"No!" He nearly screams before realizing his mistake and sits down. "I mean, I don't mind it. This- your twenty-four-hour memory is no problem. I- I actually think you're worth getting to know, every day."

You don't give him a verbal response as you nod, unsure of how to respond.

As you two bask in the silence, the other's downstairs are preparing for the next day.

-

“You coming to the garage or are you going to call Carole?” Tom asks him after his uncle walks out of the room.

“What do you think?”

Your cousin rolls his eyes, “still as lazy as the day I met you.”

“Hey, I am offended.”

“Good.”

Nick shakes his head, mumbling a variety of comebacks that he would never say out loud because he values his life.

-

Leonard reaches around, rubbing your shoulder, not realizing the time or what’s about to happen.

You wake, opening your eyes and start screaming, alerting everyone in the house.

Tom and Mike make it to your room in no time.

The older man hauls the rancher out of your room and out of the house. “I thought I told you to stay away.”

“You might have.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“Sir, I really care about your daughter and honestly, the thought of showing her how much I care about her everyday sounds-”

“Like you’ve got some kind of ulterior motive.”

“That hurts. No, I mean, telling her every day that I care for her and making her fall for me again and again. I can’t explain it but, I know I’m the right guy for her. Everyone here cares for her and I’d like to count myself lucky enough to be a part of that community. I know you think I’m messing with her but that’s not true and even if you push me away, I will still be here and continue to stand by her.”

Mike has a lot to think about now.

He nods, “don’t come around today. She needs time to heal and take it all in, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure I'll hear from you later. Now go.”

Leonard smiles as he leaves. He spends the day making a gift, as a precaution he doesn’t come by for a couple of days.

Leonard has a lot of things to think about.

If he stays and builds a relationship with you, he’s going to be putting his dreams on the back burner; something he’s had his mind set on for a long, long time now.

Can he, do it?

Is it worth it?

As much as it hurts him to think about, he needs to. But then he thinks of you again and it is.

He makes a mental note to email his response.

-

He knocks on the door and Tom answers it. “You’re back? I thought you decided to leave.”

The rancher shakes his head, “nope. Can’t get rid of me that easily. I- uh- I actually made something and I want to play it for her. I don’t know if it’ll help but, you never know.”

He steps aside, giving Leonard enough room to walk by.

“Thanks.”

You and your father enter the living room, seeing him placing the tape in the VHS player.

The tape plays before either of you could ask what's going on.

Your name flashes across the screen, drawing your attention along with mentions of the accident and Bradley, Carole and Nick's son who's four now.

You touch the scar hidden by your hair.

Tom stands back, waiting for what you decide to do.

Mike rubs his hand across his face. "Did you do this?"

He nods. "I did."

You take a deep breath and grab his arm, bringing him with you.

-

"Where are we going?"

You don't answer him.

"Should I be worried?"

You stop in front of your car. "Do you ever shut up?"

"I could."

"Do it now."

"Stop being mean to me or I swear I'm gonna fall in love with you."

You roll your eyes. "I need to talk to you, and I don't want to do it with my guard dogs nearby."

"Oh, sure."

He opens the door for you, earning a furrowed brow look from you.

You don't say anything as you drive to the one place no one knows about.

"Are we-"

"The accident site, yeah. I didn’t know that at the time but now that I do, it doesn't change the special value it holds."

"That's good." He turns to you, seeing the way you're staring at him. "What?"

"We need to end this."

"End what?"

"You know what."

"Honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Leonard-"

He cuts you off before you can continue. "You remember my name?"

"If you'd let me get a word in, you'd know that the only reason I know of you is because I have a journal. I've been keeping notes of everything, I just- I never realized it."

"And that means we need to not see each other anymore?"

"Exactly."

"Why?"

"You."

"I'm not following."

"You," you close your eyes, huffing through your nose. "You're so sweet and have been since we first met but you're going to get hurt."

"What makes you think that?"

"You've stayed longer than any guy ever has but to do this every day is just- I know it's a lot."

"It's nothing."

"See, that!" You point at him. "That right there is exactly why I'm ending this. You've got such a pure heart and I can't be the reason it breaks when you realize it's not worth it to stay."

"Who's to say that I'll stop feeling what I do?"

You avoid eye contact as your tears blur your vision. "You will, just like I know how my father and Tom are tired of it. They'll never admit it, but everyone has their breaking point and I think us meeting and seeing each other has pushed theirs. I'm really sorry, I like you. I do but I'm doing this to protect us."

You offer him a weak smile as the tears spill from your eyes and down your cheeks.

Before you leave to go back inside, you hand him your journal.

He pulls you back and kisses you.

Your first kiss with one another and it's amazing but can't last forever.

You pull away, walking inside with heavy steps; barely able to keep yourself together.

Tom nor Mike stops you, but they do make sure to call Nick and Carole, knowing you'll need a good day tomorrow even if you don't remember it.

-

Leonard doesn't come into the diner for a few days.

Carole sits with you at your job while Rick, Nick, and Pete drive Mike and Tom to see him off.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"We couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," Rick tells him.

"That's nice but how do you know these guys?" Leonard points between the guys in the group.

"We used to work together before I decided to settle down," his friend explains.

"Is that what you've been telling people?" Pete asks, staring at the man with a confused expression.

Rick glances at the man, "what are you talking about? Of course, that's what I've been telling people. It's the truth."

Pete shrugs, "I just thought-"

"Thought what?"

Nick smacks the two across the back of their heads. "Alright you idiots, there's a time and a place to talk about this. Now is not it."

The two grumbled, rubbing the now sore spot.

"We came here to talk to Wolfman before he left."

"You told them?"

"We all worked for him," Rick points to Mike. "Of course, I'm going to tell them."

"Anyway," the oldest chimes in. "We're here to send you off but not before giving you this." He hands him a CD.

"Really?" The rancher asks, not understanding the sentimental thought behind it just yet.

Mike nods, "I think you'll like it. Check side B, song four. Everything will make sense after that." The older man walks away, letting the others take their time in following.

Nick pats Leonard on the back, saluting him before wishing him luck. "I wish you luck, my friend."

"I'm pretty sure you just jinxed me."

"That's for the theater and you're going to need it one way or another."

The rancher frowns.

Pete chuckles, "you really leaving?"

The blond shrugs. "What else can I do? She told me she doesn't want me, and I can't force myself into her life, you know. Whether she remembers me or not. I'm going to respect her decision."

"That's really nice of you, not everyone would do that."

"I keep telling you I'm not like everyone."

"And I understand why. You're going to do great, kid."

The man in the cowboy hat purses his lips as his brows knit together in confusion. "If I'm not mistaken, we're the same age."

"Potato, potahtoe."

"Not the same."

Pete smirks and slaps his arm before jogging to Mike's car.

"You really want to leave?" Rick asks, standing beside him, resting his arms on the fence. "Because I'm not buying this whole "I can do this" thing. I mean, from what I've heard it sounds like you love her but who am I to assume."

Leonard shakes his head, "you heard wrong."

"That's a load of bull and you know it."

"You'll never know."

"The kids are going to miss you."

"They'll find something else to occupy them."

“You know they won’t.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

Rick’s hand hovers over his friend’s shoulder, he doesn’t pat him like everyone else had (knowing he’ll be back in no time). “You’re an idiot.”

Leonard lets out a dry, “thanks.”

Tom gives him a knowing look, “you know I’m right.”

“If you’re just going to be a jerk, leave with the others. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You said you were going to stay by her side no matter what. What happened to that guy?”

“She made the decision. She doesn’t want me around; thinks she’s going to save me from heartache or something.”

“You’re an idiot.” Tom walks away, leaving him with his thoughts.

Leonard shakes his head, not understanding half of what just happened; all he knows is that he’s offended. He hops in his truck, his heart heavy and mind full of useless thoughts; he places the CD in the car player.

Half forgetting he’s had the damn thing this whole time and never once thought to use it. He skips to the song Mike told him to play.

He’s barely on the road for ten minutes and gets out of his thoughts, his fingers stop tapping along to the beat on the steering wheel when he slams on the brakes. “Holy shit! Holy- no way. No way!”

His smile is as wide as can be. “I knew the old man liked me.”

He turns the car around and heads towards the office you visited when you were told about the accident again.

-

He runs through the door, trying to sneak in by the security guards before anyone can kick him out.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” He turns to face them, removing his hat.

He shrugs, not saying a word.

Maybe playing dumb would be easier?

The taller of the two stares at him with raised brows as his partner takes in Leonard’s appearance. “Go on in.”

Ron turns to Charles, “what’s wrong with you? What if he was a murderer or some psycho?”

“Did he look like a psycho to you?”

“No but-”

“But nothing. I got good vibes from him.”

“What did you smoke for breakfast?”

“I’m not answering that,” Charles says, checking the computer for today’s schedule.

“If someone gets murdered, I’m not protecting you.”

“Dick move.”

“Cya, man.”

“What?”

Ron pats his shoulder, “cover your ass. I’d remember that if I were you.”

-

Leonard runs into the room, eyes scanning all around and over anyone in the room, only to not find you, for the moment.

He wanders further into the room, tempted to ask around when he sees ten second Sam and decides not to, there’s too much time that could be wasted and he can’t waste a second right now.

You turn the corner, not noticing him as you help someone outline the outline of their sketch.

A voice calls out to you, and you turn, finding him.

“Hi? Do you- nevermind, stupid question. Could I- uh- could I talk to you for a minute?” He asks.

You know everyone here will be fine for a few minutes. You hesitate to answer him. “I- we can- just- just follow me.”

-

You two stand in your special art room. “Have we met before?”

His chin juts out. “What?” His eyes wander around the room, finally understanding.

“As you can see, I’ve seen you before. I mean, I know I’ve talked to you, but I don’t remember it. You- you haunt my dreams. I’ve seen us in my favorite restaurant, as if we were on a date and- and I don’t know if it was real or not.” He can see how it’s wracking your brain to try and remember something that won’t be there.

He nods, “we have. We’ve met a few times.”

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

He holds a journal in front of you, “if you really want to find out, read this. It’ll tell you everything.”

You stare at the cover, wondering if you should read it or not.

You hold it close to your chest and stretch your hand out for him. “Hi.”

He raises his brow but shakes your hand. “Hi?”

“We’re starting over.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.”

The door opens, “Hi, “I’m Sam.”

You purse your lips, trying to hold in your laughter.

“And our special moment has a little twist.”

“Leave Sam out?”

He nods, “we’re leaving him out.”

You nod and slowly remove your hand from his. “Hi, I’m Sam.”

“I swear to-”

-

You push open the door and cover your eyes when the sun hits you. Leonard turns around and smiles at the sight of you looking as beautiful as always. “Hey, you’re up.”

You nod, your eyes landing on your precious baby boy, Jake, pretending to be like his dad with ranching.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

Your daughter, Natasha, runs over to you with her arms open for a hug.

Everyone always says that a mother and her child share a special bond, in this case it’s true because you open your arms and scoop her up, holding her close to you, even if it is a little strange just finding out she’s your daughter after watching the video Leonard made for you.

“I’m okay, a little weird this morning.”

“I don’t blame you.”

You tilt your head up at him, staring at him like you’re trying to memorize his face. “I think Tom’s doing things he shouldn’t.”

He turns around, finding your cousin doing the exact opposite of what he told him to and hands Jake to your father so he can help your cousin from messing up his ranch (any more than he already has). “Son of a-”

“Language!” You and Mike shout.

“I wasn’t going to actually say it,” Leonard tells you two.

You and your dad share a look. “He’s your husband, you take care of it.” And he walks away.

“So rude,” you mumble to yourself.

“Hey guys!” Nick and Carole wave as Bradley runs towards Natasha (who hasn’t left your side until this moment).

You smile and wave back, hugging Carole tightly.

“Let's go inside and see what you have in your kitchen for breakfast.”

You lean in closer to her, whispering, “does he ever eat? I swear he is always raiding my pantry.”

“Fast metabolism.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“Can I tell you something?” She asks.

You nod.

“Neither do I.”

-

You, Carole, and Nick grimace at the sight of Leonard's friend and his coworker-

"Can they eat each other's faces somewhere else?" Nick mumbles. "I'm trying to eat here."

You and her share a look.

"You're still eating," his wife points out.

He shrugs. "I can't pass up when Sundown cooks. That'd be like disrespecting Penny."

Leonard walks through the door and grimaces. "You two need to stop trying to eat each other and enjoy breakfast. This is not what I imagined when I suggested you two go out."

Charlotte and Rick part from one another, offering weak apologies.

You and Carole can't help but laugh.

The rancher turns around at the sound of your laughter and knows that he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Spend the Night: Ch. 8

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

When you've gates stormed by gators and wolves at the door When the power is down, you can't bear any more When the Sun's gone away, but the Moon's come to play A more punishing game 'til the break of the dawn Oh, the fun that's in store!

You wanna pizza the action!

~A Pizza the Action by The Stupendium~

At first, At first, Michael was pulled into the darkness right along with Freddy. Surrounded by inky black, the ghost struggled against invisible bonds—his unintentional attachment to the animatronic had already begun to set in. However, without Charlie’s Gift this wasn't nearly strong enough to keep the vengeful ghost down. Michael imagined what it would be like to leave this mechanical body, to detach his spirit and roam free in the world—

And to his utmost surprise, it actually worked.

Suddenly, Michael was no longer staring through an animatronic's eyes—he was looking down at Freddy from a position just above the bear's head. Moon was currently dragging Freddy by his feet towards the service chair, metal scraping against metal causing the ghost to wince.

Wait... he could wince!

Steeling his nerve Mike looked down at himself, ready to see the rotted corpse he'd been barely hanging onto for the past few decades. But, amazingly, fate was sort of still working in his favor at the moment. His body was back to what it was like the moment he'd been scooped—relatively normal, save for the gore-splattered midsection that Michael really couldn't focus on lest he lose the small amount of sanity he still had in tact. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.

The horrendous sight wasn't that much of a shock. Mike knew part of the deal with being a ghost meant getting preserved at the moment of one's demise. That was the default, and it took some effort to look "normal." He wasn't purple, which was already a big step up in his book. Lifting a pale hand, he felt short, wavy brown bangs that fell just above his brow line. No more crappy wigs, either...

Michael didn't have time to waste dwelling on his appearance—not with Moon so close by, and Freddy in a precarious position. With concentrated focus, he willed his ethereal skin and clothing to stitch itself back together. When he finally opened his eyes again, he was pleased to see that everything now seemed intact.

...Well, sort of. He was a bit see-through, but otherwise had full autonomy once again, and the fabric of his uniform shirt was crisp and put-together.

As the Daycare attendant tried to pull Freddy onto the chair, Michael rushed to the charging pod around the corner. He is attempts to touch it only caused his torso to phase through, so he settled on waving frantically, calling out to his friends in a whisper: “Hey! Can you see me?!”

Charlie jumped slightly, not expecting Mike's youthful face to pop into their tiny little cell. When she had the sense knocked back into her from the bump to the back of her metal skull, she scolded him out of habit.

“Michael! You scared me—” Then she let out a sharp gasp of realization. “You’re out of Freddy?! Wait, that's perfect!”

She looked up to her old ghost friend, unaware of the fear in Gregory's eyes as he too stared at this random person with their body half-through a metal door. Of course the poor kid wasn't able to scream with Puppet's hands still covering his mouth, so how could Charlie know of his increased distress?

“You're no good to us without a body, though. Can you see any unused models in the warehouse?” Charlie suggested, trying vainly to look around Mike through the porthole just in case she could get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

“I am still good without a body,” Michael grumbled automatically, falling back into the old way he interacted with his dearest friend like no time had passed. Quickly though, he brought himself back to the present with a shake of his head. “But let me check. Just—stay here, alright?”

He rushed off at quite a speed, only managing to force his body to slow down after he'd phased through three walls. The building itself was one thing, but he didn't know what would happen if he accidentally touched another animatronic, since the last time he tried he'd gotten stuck in Freddy. He began searching around, grimacing at all the endoskeletons that lined the walls and seemed to follow him with red, glowing eyes. For a while, that seemed to be the only “unused model” Michael could find—a generic endoskeleton without a suit or personality. Although, he supposed it was his job to fill in that disposition soon...

Mike was about to accept his fate of being a suit-less endo when he spotted a nearly-hidden door. He peered through cautiously, and at the far end of a thin hallway spotted something colorful propped up against the wall. Michael gasped as he moved closer and registered exactly what he was looking at, then quickly rushed back to the charging pod with a grin on his face despite the terrifying situation.

“I think I found one that might work!” he exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “I'm guessing you need to come with me to do whatever it is you do, Charlie? I'll keep watch while you guys move and let you know if anything's coming.”

“Yup; thanks, Mike!” Puppet replied, happily opening up the chamber and uncovering Gregory's mouth to properly lift him into her arms. As she held him up, it was clear now that Gregory had been petrified the whole entire time Michael was gone, too.

Today he learned that he could see ghosts and Gregory honestly wished he could go his whole life without knowing that fact. Yet here they were. Worse yet, Michael's appearance was so... normal. He looked like any twenty-something dude Gregory could’ve met on the street.

How did he know that no one else he'd ever seen weren’t ghosts as well?!

There was no time to dwell on it as Charlie followed the floating spirit away from Moon's prying eyes. Propped in an upright position in the hidden room sat a freshly completed, wholly refurbished Foxy the Pirate Fox. With a gold hook, long teal coat, and red mane similar to Roxy's, they had completely updated and retrofitted the swashbuckling pirate with a new look that was sure to appeal to the demographic at the Pizzaplex.

“Oh my god...,” Charlie began to snicker. “That's hilarious, Mike—you get to be Foxy.”

Just like he’d always wanted. When they were kids playing pretend, that Foxy mask never left Michael's head. It was precious in a way—and tragically ironic only when she remembered how their current situation was possible in the first place. Only through such an intense death could immortal life rise from its ashes.

The Puppet reached out for Michael's hand, the only being able to grasp what should've been pure air.

“Ready, Mikey?” she asked patiently, while Gregory watched on in morbid curiosity.

“Hold on.” Michael turned to the kid, feeling horrible for clearly scaring him so much. “So, um... obviously we don't have time to explain right now, but I promise I'll fill you in a little more on what's really going on when we're safe and sound in that security office, okay?”

His expression was the epitome of a big brother trying his best to comfort a younger sibling after they'd witnessed something they really shouldn't have—a soft, reassuring smile and eyes full of compassion.

“All you need to know is that Charlie's going to help me get situated in that Foxy animatronic,” Michael continued, gesturing to said robot as he spoke. “It's just like how I was in Freddy, but I'll be the only one in control this time—no more fighting with an AI to talk to you guys. Plus, you'll have another animatronic on your side to kick some ass!”

He laughed, the sound hearty and also a bit delirious as the situation finally sunk in. He could never have known his fate would end up like this, but the irony wasn't lost on him either. Trying not to think about the last time he'd worn his trusty ol' Foxy mask, Michael finally took Puppet's hand.

“Okay; I'm ready. Work your magic, Charlie.”

Gregory silently listened to Michael's reassuring words. The boy couldn't respond for a moment, everything so completely overwhelming he felt like he was drowning. Those big brown eyes full of concern were a familiar sight as he watched Charlie guide Michael towards the suit.

“B-Be careful...,” Gregory stuttered as Charlie slowly lowered the ghost into the machine.

There was something about metal and human souls that stuck like magnets. The whole process looked painless enough, though there were obviously things at play that Gregory couldn't see...

Charlie was happy then, to finally give her best friend his Gift. She'd been waiting a long time to find a good character for him. What better than an old favorite?

As Foxy's system came on, a prompt to upload a personality disk was immediately closed out. Foxy's uncovered eye opened, a bright orange iris staring ahead as the bot finally came online after who knows how many months of development. Touching the animatronic’s fluffy mullet, Charlie knocked lightly against his head.

“Mike? Try sitting up,” she prompted as Gregory curiously moved in closer towards the new and exciting character.

It was... weird. That's the first word that came to Michael's mind as his soul attached itself to the fox. He could feel his essence knitting itself to the metal as Charlie guided him, sections of his being syncing to the animatronic until his ethereal heart finally found its way into its new mechanical one. Only once that final piece of his soul rested snugly in place was Michael able to open Foxy's eye and look out with his new, enhanced vision.

The vision itself was strange, too. Everything was crystal clear like Freddy's had been, but Michael swore he could see... things as well. Faint shapes moving around outlined in a ghostly hue, and if he didn't know any better he could swear he even saw the vague outline of Freddy himself through the walls.

Hmm... That was something to ask the bear later when they were able to get him back. Maybe there was something different about Foxy's eyes than the other animatronics'?

Michael suddenly registered that Charlie asked him to do something. His orange eye swiveled to her, grinning jaw snapping experimentally as he sat up straight. He stretched his arms out, flexing his paw and giving the hook a few practice swipes for good measure. Oh yeah—that could definitely do some damage if need be.

“Thanks, Charlie,” Michael said, his voice coming loud and clear through the fox's voice box, mouth syncing up perfectly with his words. It was a good thing Foxy hadn't been active; now he didn't have to contend with whatever rambunctious personality would've been installed in the pirate-themed animatronic.

Gregory stepped back, watching Michael swipe his hook experimentally before admiring its shining gleam. Charlie shifted in place beside him, clapping her hands together as she excitedly watched Michael use his Gift. It fit him, a man who'd grown up listening to rock in the 80's now inhabiting one of the many impressive Glamrock animatronics.

It was almost like this one was made for him. Charlie forced herself to believe that it was a coincidence—because what else could it be?

“So...” Gregory finally collected his words, though they wouldn’t come out as elegantly as he wanted. “You're a dead guy… Possessing a fox...” He pointed at Michael, then oscillated to point at the Puppet, almost accusingly. “And you, clearly another ghost, are putting people's ghosts into robots…?”

Before Charlie could even answer, it turned out Gregory hadn't been looking for any confirmation. He'd already gathered everything he needed to know for the time being. No matter what these strange beings were, they'd done nothing but try to keep him safe since he met them. Ghosts or rogue AI, they were all friends in Gregory's book.

Grasping onto the curve of Michael's hook in a futile attempt to pull him from the work table, he told the pair firmly: “I want to know everything later—seriously. But we need to go get Freddy and kick that Moon guy’s ass!”

“Agreed,” Michael replied with a nod, cautiously getting to his feet. Initially the peg-leg made him a bit off-balance, although he adjusted in a matter of seconds and held himself up straight. There really was quite a difference in being tied to an animatronic as opposed to hanging out inside one's head. Noticing that Gregory was still holding onto his hook, Michael flashed him a grin.

“Hold on tight for a sec,” he instructed, then carefully lifted the kid into the air with a hearty laugh, letting him dangle harmlessly a few inches off the floor. “Oh hell yes—I'm extra strong, now!”

Gregory wasn't the heaviest thing, sure, but if Mike were still human he knew he'd have definitely felt the boy's weight more—using the animatronic, it was like lifting a bag of feathers.

Gregory shrieked from the distracting joy this simple action brought. Holding on with both hands the boy swung his legs alternatively as if he was walking on air.

“Hell yeah!” he agreed, his tone immature but filled with undeniable spirit. While Freddy would always be Gregory's favorite character, it seemed he’d obtained a new favorite sidekick.

As Charlie palmed her face at the sheer ridiculousness of the two, she came up and poked Michael's peg leg. “Very spiffy, Mike.”

Michael simply grinned, soon lowering Gregory back onto the ground. He paced in a circle a few times, getting used to the movement of walking before looking at the other two with a resolute nod. “Alright, let's do this.”

His tone was confident, though inside his anxiety was starting to build again. He wished he had time to actually get used to this body before taking it out for a spin against Moon, of all animatronics... Hopefully they'd be able to just grab Freddy and get out.

Gregory, of course, was running headfirst into danger without much of a plan at the signal to go.

“I’ve got an idea; follow my lead!” he exclaimed, causing Charlie to gasp in worry as he darted off.

“GREGORY! Slow down! Damn it—”

Great, Puppet thought as she chased him down on spindly legs. Now the two of them were getting her to curse by exposure.

Soon Gregory was kicking open the door to the main upgrade room, flashlight in hand and aimed like a gun. He spied Moon moving Freddy from the cylinder, letting out a loud screech.

“Gregory!” Michael hissed, rushing after him as fast as he could. Two things he already knew about this new body: it was strong, but not fast. Honestly, if there wasn’t a terrifying nighttime-themed creature in the upgrade room, he’d be tempted to ask Charlie to switch out the peg-leg for a normal one.

But regarding more pressing matters: damn, that kid was spunky! Michael’s assumption had been spot-on. He knew Gregory was probably scared out of his mind, but he had to give him credit for his bravery.

“Hey! Let go of my friend you BUTT UGLY MOON!” the boy shouted, trying to get Moon’s attention to look directly into the light.

“Hello, Gregory… I see you’ve got a new friend, ehehehe…” Moon cackled, completely ignoring the insult and hiding behind the chair to avoid as much of the beam as possible. Gregory had effectively trapped him in place, but unfortunately Freddy had been dropped in the doorway of the cylinder, still close enough to Moon that trying to grab him risked an attack.

“Does this idea of yours have a part two, by any chance?!” Michael asked as he skidded to a stop next to Gregory, gripping the boy’s shoulder with a turquoise-clawed paw so he couldn’t run again.

“No, but he doesn’t need to know that,” Gregory whispered before realizing Charlie was gone from his sight. After nervously clearing his throat, he spoke to Moon again, determined to fake confidence until they made it out of this place.

“Yeah, I’m a pretty popular guy!” he remarked, focusing on steadying his light while still looking for Charlie. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of him, but this is Foxy the Pirate.”

Gregory wondered if something so freaky like Moon could be intimidated, especially when considering the virus’s influence.

“Look… we just want Freddy,” he continued, letting out an annoyed huff. “Like you guys even need him; he’s not even powered on…”

Charlie had snuck into the shadows of the room. She hoped to evade and sneak by Moon in an attempt to get the drop on him, and couldn’t help but be impressed by Gregory’s ability to distract the robot with nonsense. It certainly helped her get closer to their shared threat.

Moon simply tilted his head curiously at the Foxy animatronic. “Ohohoho, Foxy... you were decommissioned so long ago, weren't you...?”

“Well, I'm back, matey!” Michael replied with a shimmering smile, doing his best impression of what he recalled the original Foxy's voice sounding like. Maybe Moon would actually believe he was the pirate returned from the scrapyard, and that might help in some way. Did they have a good relationship? Or one at all?

He dared a step closer, noting how Moon stayed in place due to Gregory's light. Maybe if he could just get ahold of Freddy's hand, he could pull the bear into his arms and carry him out...

“Ehehehe... pirates are resilient ones, hmm?” Moon suddenly shifted, sensing what Michael was trying to do. Though his eyes remained static, Mike could definitely feel the intention of a glare from those glowing red dots. “We need Freddy a lot more, though... Well, we need him to stay out of the way, ehehehe...”

“Oh, let me help with that!” Michael exclaimed loudly, inching a smidge closer. “I'll take this scallywag off yer hands and make him walk the plank fer the rest of the night, argh!”

Gregory had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Mike was so committed to the role, it was just as endearing as it was entertaining.

Charlie watched from the corner long enough. It made her sad to see that because of William, all of Freddy’s friends had turned on him. He’d officially become the enemy to them, and until they got rid of the virus' source, that wasn't going to change. She leapt forth, aiming to push Moon’s only defense aside in hopes he'd retreat to escape the light.

Her plan worked perfectly. The chair tilted forwards, allowing the full strength of the flashlight beam to strike Moon directly in the face. The animatronic shrieked in anguish, quickly crawling up to the top of the cylinder and alternating between glaring down at the group and rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“Keep that flashlight just below him so he can't come down!” Michael shouted, his usual accent returning as he rushed forward to hoist Freddy up. The bear was bulky, but the weight itself wasn't a problem as Mike situated him in what was essentially a piggyback ride. Once Freddy was settled as best as possible, he started for the elevator. “Gregory, shine that light on Moon as long as you can; Charlie, watch the kid!”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Charlie saluted as she rolled back to said kid. She’d been waiting for a good opportunity to say that since Michael’s integration. As she protectively stood behind Gregory, she picked him up to help adjust his aim.

“It’s nothing personal, Moon!” Gregory called, waving his hand in a friendly fashion. “You just really freak me out!”

While he backed away with Charlie, he cast a split-second glance over their shoulders with wide eyes. It was sort of amazing, seeing Michael able to piggyback what he assumed to be at least a half-ton of metal.

Mike snorted at Charlie's response—he bet she'd been saving that one. He rushed Freddy into the elevator, hook poised over the button so he could press it as soon as the others entered. “We're in—hurry!”

Moon growled in frustration, but the flashlight was just too powerful for his sensitive eyes. Still, the insistence in his head to—

G̸̦̓ẹ̵́t̴̹͗ ̸̧̉t̵̹͛ḧ̴̨́é̵̳ ̷̘̂c̶͉͠ḫ̸͝i̶̭̔l̵̢̏d̴̼̊;̷͇̈ ̵̰̈́c̷͍͝a̴̭͆p̵̕ͅt̶̼̄u̶͚̓r̵͓̄ė̴̻ ̴̫̓h̵͔͐i̴͇̕m̷͓͗ ̵͎̍ä̶̢́n̴̯̓d̵͍̽ ̸̨͋b̸̠̑r̶̕ͅỉ̷̙n̷͎͐ģ̶͋ ̶̩̀h̴͈͝ì̸̭m̵̙͝ ̶̣͂ẗ̴͓́ö̶̯ ̷͚͑ḿ̸̼ȇ̷̝!̸̱̎[1]

—was so great that Moon almost dropped from the ceiling regardless of the light.

Almost.

For now, he remained where he was, hoping he wasn't going to get in trouble for not following the rules this powerful voice in his head had set...

[1] Get the child; capture him and bring him to me!

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

[wrennefer]

Steddie fic idea of the day:

alternate universe story in which Steve is the head chef of a high class restaurant and Eddie works as the head cook(and also like in charge of everything) for Benny’s restaurant that’s always busy and barely passing Health code regulation ever since Benny died a few years ago during a botched robbery. 

And Steve hears from somebody eating at his restaurant that the best soufflé or something is from Benny’s.

Steve is very offended because he feels like he’s perfected his recipe so now he has to go spy and scope this place out and order the food from there

I mean of course it ends up being better than his and he’s blown away and he considers maybe proposing to the cook if she’s pretty enough and then whenever he asks to talk to who made it, Eddie comes out looking all pissed sexy metal head in a braid and hair net… like “you got a problem with my soufflé ?”

Thus begins a competitive streak in Steve and he tries his best to outdo every recipe on Eddie’s menu. Eddie has no idea that Steve is a chef at this high class place so he starts noticing steve a whole bunch and even personally brings the food out. Makes a joke about how Steve better not be some food critic like the guy in ratatouille. Steve hears that Eddie is going to be part of the towns chili cook off during the fair. Steve enters himself privately and there’s all this excitement because he’s the head chef of this restaurant and everything. He spends like all of his free time busting his ass over the chili recipe and then during the day of the chili cook off it turns out that yes Eddie is going to be there for the chili cook off but it’s because his band is performing.

Steve feels like a fucking idiot

Until after at his performance then he comes over and he is like ‘oh, you’re the guy everyone was talking about,” like, zero other explanation (this whole time he’s never once asked for Steve’s name when steve’s come in to eat. Steve always pays in cash.) His face is kind of, hard to read, and now Steve has this horrible feeling in him like. Maybe guilt? Like he doesn’t want eddie to be upset with him but wasn’t everything he was doing kind of shitty? Has eddie figured out Steve was trying his food for competition / to make it better ? 

He tries Steve’s chili and makes the most most inappropriate moaning sound. When Eddie looks at him after that first bite Steve has this moment where he thinks he might have seduced Eddie with his cooking.

I can see Eddie saying “I don’t know whether to make love to the food or the person who made it “and Steve blurting out “I’m the least messy option “

And eddie is looking at him and steve feels like he might be getting eye fucked and then he has to clear the air about his main concern. “You’re not mad I was uh…using you?” 

Eddie is like ‘lmao no. it’s flattering? If i’m to be completely honest, you’re just stealing some of your own recipes back that I perfected.’

 it turns out that one of the reasons eddie's food has gotten better was that the kids from his d&d group snuck him recipes from mike's sister's boyfriend who was studying at a high class culinary school

Steve suddenly wants to help Eddie’s rating go up at the restaurant so he actually goes there on one of his off days to help and it becomes very quickly evident that their low rating is because they can’t afford enough staff to do all of the cleaning required without exhausting everybody who works there. There’s so many people at Steve’s restaurant because they are so expensive that they can afford to hire people whose entire job is basically upkeep. Blows Steve’s mind.

 When Eddie was a teenager and he used to work at Benny’s first he was a bus boy and then Benny taught him how to cook and everything until they were in the kitchen together every day. Then there was a robbery and they killed Benny and Eddie and the other staff members have managed to keep it going and the earnings go to Benny’s daughter but none of them know how to run a business really so they’ve been struggling and one of the things that’s been saving them is the fact that Eddie is a fucking amazing cook

[backalleyauthor]

Hey there! I've been searching for Eddie Munson fics to read ;; do you think you can come up with a scenario where Eddie meets will? That would be fantastic!!!! <3

Hello! Thank you so much for requesting something, here's my shot at it!

A quick note: I’m currently on Episode 6 of the fourth season, so if anything here strays from being accurate to the show, I apologize. I took liberties with one character; this being the black haired FBI agent, so that the story could logically work in the way I’m telling it. I don’t know yet if the issue with Eddie and the murder trial is resolved or how if so; if it is I apologize. So in a nutshell, I’m sorry if this strays too far from canon, I haven’t finished the season. I plan to finish it tonight so fics posted in the future will be better accurate. :)

Summary: It’s been a year since Vecna’s murderous reign of terror befell Hawkins, Indiana, and things seem to have finally settled. There haven't been any gruesome deaths. Eddie has, via complicated FBI and law enforcement entanglement in the name of a request from Eleven, been freed of his charges. Finally, and most importantly to Mike, Dustin and Lucas, the Byers family have come to celebrate El and Will’s sixteenth birthday in Hawkins. With a week left in the Byers’ stay in Indiana, a ‘legendary’ (in the words of Dustin) DND oneshot is set into motion, with two Dungeon Masters: Will Byers and Eddie Munson. 

Ships: None

Cw: Discussions/mentions of prison, mentions of the death penalty (aka Eddie misunderstanding something and for a second thinking he’s getting the death sentence when he isn’t)

Word Count: 3,180 

!SPOILER WARNING FOR SEASON 4 OF STRANGER THINGS!

-This GIF does not belong to me and was made by Ildre-

A night of DND

 It was a year ago that Eddie Munson watched in helpless horror as his customer and, more importantly to him, potential friend Chrissie Cunningham floated to the ceiling. One year ago her body bent in ways inhuman and broke with such little effort no person could have done it; but still the town blamed him. Still he was arrested on two counts of first degree murder, possession of illegal substances, and distributing said illegal substances to minors. 

 There’s a clanging on the bars of his cell. He looks up to find a tall, sharply dressed woman with cropped black hair holding out a badge identifying her as a member of the FBI.

  “Hi?” He mumbles, clasping his trembling hands and clenching his clammy palms together. 

 This is it, I’m going to die, my sixty year sentence just became a death sentence he thinks as the door is unlocked and the woman steps in. 

 “Hello.” Says the woman, tight lipped as she takes a plastic chair and sits before him. He shrinks further into the concrete bench, afraid, a shell of the bold man he once was. 

 “Is this where you, like, tell me I’m going to die? Did they give me the death sentence? Or, fuck, are you recruiting me for some fucked up experiment as punishment for the ‘crimes’ I didn’t even commit?” 

 Humorlessly, the woman shakes her head. 

 “Quite the opposite, Mister Munson. You’re free.” 

 The news ignites in Eddie similar to a spark catching drybrush. In an instant his hollow, fearful soul ignites and burns with hope. Hope for freedom intertwines with joy. His heart races; he grins, leaping from his bench and sweeping his hands through his matted hair. 

 “Seriously? I am?” He practically shrieks, “Why? What happened? Did they figure out I’m innocent?” 

 “That’s classified information that I’m afraid I can’t tell you.” 

 A cold hallway, a crying girl, objects floating in the air. They clatter to the ground as the woman steps forward, reaching a shaky hand to the girl. A promise made between child and adult. Of safety. Of fulfillment.

An escape. Flames bursting on her back as she yells to Jane, Jane Hopper, to run. 

 I’ll find you. Now go. 

 Burying herself in the rubble as guards and staff rush to the scene, silent prayers that the girl makes it. 

 The Nevada Desert, far from home. A month after Jane’s escape. She sits across from Jane, the two sipping milkshakes in the early hours of Monday morning. 

 You’ve been through more than I can defend, Jane. I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t trust me, and it won’t make up for the things they’ve done to you, but ask me for a few things, and I’ll do them. 

A plea for freedom; not just for herself but her friends and their friends. Eddie Munson’s name is mentioned. 

 He didn’t do anything, please, let him go, Miss. You can cover it up. 

  Justification among colleagues, lies suppressed, an appeal. A bribe.

 They’ve all led to this moment, where she fulfills one of the poor girl’s four requests. 

“Y’know what, if it means I get outta here, I won’t push it.” Eddie takes her hands and squeezes them, falling to his knees and looking up at her through teary eyes. “Thank you, god, thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you-” 

 She silences him as she leads him out of his cell. 

 The affairs of the day pass in a blur. He’s given clothes brought in by his uncle; trades his orange jumpsuit for a familiar pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and denim vest. He’s crushed in a tearful embrace by said uncle, who whispers in his hair that he knew he was innocent. To the public all they know is that they found further evidence from remains and the sites of the murders that proves Eddie Munson isn’t the perpetrator. Many are skeptical, however, there are also many who believe the court’s new ruling. Eddie falls apart in his uncle’s car on the ride home to a place he’s never seen; sobs as he grins. He eats dinner as his uncle speaks on the phone with an alternative school. He opens the door to their house after hearing a knock and finds the Hellfire Club crowding at his doorstep, some teary and some joyous. 

They sit in Eddie’s new room; bare with all his possessions packed away in boxes and his furniture in the garage. He doesn’t care that he’s going to be sleeping on the floor, he probably won’t get to bed anyway with their shenanigans.  

 It’s three in the morning when Dustin jolts as though he’s been shocked and points at Eddie. 

 “You! You’ve got to come to my friends’ birthday party, you’ll love them! I told them both all about you, they love you!” 

 “Dustin, I’m twenty-one now. I’m not some kiddy babysitter.” 

 “Hey, the last time you said that, you gained a super valuable player!” He gestures to Erica, who preenfully grins at the praise. “Besides, they’re turning sixteen. It’s not like you’re going to a six year old’s birthday. And,” he drags out the ‘n’, “one of them plays Dungeons and Dragons.” 

 At this Eddie’s interest is piqued, his head snapping to meet Dustin’s hopeful gaze. He reaches his hand out and, over a firm handshake, says: “I’m in.”

 Eddie’s banged up van rolls into Hopper’s driveway at 5:55 p.m, five minutes before he’s expected. The lights from inside the sheriff’s new cabin illuminate the forest in swaths of gold. Silhouettes dance through the panes of glass, moving to the beat of some pop song Eddie’s not heard in years. 

 He takes cautious steps down the driveway, opening the front door slowly. 

 “Eddie! Guys, guys, Eddie’s here!” Shouts the familiar voice of Dustin. 

 Sitting on the couch are Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley. He only recognizes three of them but Dustin quickly introduces him to Jonathan and his friend Argyle, who hovers near the couch as well with a can of Dr Pibb. In the corner he recognizes the FBI agent who freed him, smiling and talking to a girl with shaggy hair. He also recognizes Max, who gives him a hug and says how she’s glad he’s back. He’s called over to the couch once more, where more arms fling themselves around him and congratulations ring out. Soon after the introductions are finished, including between Eddie and the owner of the house and his companion Joyce, Eddie seats himself at the table. His gifts, boxed in shittily wrapped up boxes and topped with a card each, sit in a pile with the other gifts. As he looks around he finds the birthday kids: a guy with a goofy looking bowl cut and the girl with shaggy hair. He wears a suit without the jacket and she wears a flannel dress with boots. Their names, as they tell him, are Will and Jane, also known as El. 

 Eddie stands. He feels underdressed in his leather jacket, shirt, and jeans, but takes each of their hands in his and shakes, wishing them a happy birthday. 

 A cake is cut and ice cream is scooped. People sing, Eddie joins in. He eats and laughs as he talks with everyone else, making obscene jokes and shocking everyone happily. 

 This moment, this place, these people are warm. It’s all safe, it’s all good, it’s home. He’s found his new family, he’s welcomed, he’s loved and he loves, too. 

 When his gifts are unwrapped he grins at the screams of excitement: a collage kit, art book, and paint set for El; a new DND book, board, and set of miniatures for Will. They throw their arms around him, squeezing the life half out of him. Suddenly spending all his pocket money and a little from his leftover savings (stored in a shoebox he kept dutifully hidden under his bed and which his uncle put into an actual account half a year ago) is incredibly worth it. 

 The excitement of celebration causes the hours to fly in a haze of joy. When finally everything settles again, it’s two in the morning. The teenagers sit around in the living room as the adults lumber off to bed, only the agent staying in the living room for a few spare moments before leaving the house with a final goodbye to them all. 

 “So, Will.” Eddie says, lunging to his feet. “I hear you’re a connoisseur of Dungeons and Dragons?” With a twirl of his hand he emphasizes the Dungeons and Dragons. 

 Will snorts awkwardly, nodding with a smile. 

 “Great! C’mon, I’ve got a great idea. You’re here for another week, right?” 

 “Oh, uh, yeah. Why? Do you want me to make a character?” 

 “Even better than that, kid!” 

 Eddie takes a pad of paper and plops himself beside Will. 

 ��Two Dungeon Masters, twice the fun, eh?” 

 Will’s eyes pop open, jaw dropping at the idea. He nods vigorously. 

 “I don’t even know how that’ll work but that sounds awesome! Let’s do it!” 

 “Great! So it’ll have to be a oneshot; I’m not paying by the hour over the phone so you can keep running this campaign with me once you’re back in Arizona.” 

 “California.” 

 “Right, California, same thing. Anyway, that’s not important! What’re we gonna do? Oh! Before that, however!” He shoots up again, his sporadic nature not nearly dampened by his year in prison. “Who’s in?” 

 Robin, Jonathan, Argyle, Lucas, Erica, Dustin, and Mike’s hands rise into the air with lightning speed. Eleven’s hand slowly follows. Eddie counts, writing their names on the pad of paper.

 “Looks like we’ve got some fans, eh?” Eddie jokes. 

  After he shoves that sheet into his pocket, it’s back to the drawing board for those involved. Nancy, Steve, and Max resort to listening in out of curiosity. 

 Suggestions fling through the room faster than Eddie and Will can write them down. Some are good, like Erica’s idea of valkyries being involved. Some are awful, like Argyle’s suggestion of them fighting a ginormous pizza. But, as the sun begins to crest the horizon and paint the sky in lavender and pink, they lay out the papers of a fully planned oneshot. Their eyes are red and exhaustion weighs heavy on them, but it is drowned out in the accomplishment and excitement that buzzes through them. 

 They sleep in a pile on the floor, unbothered, until three in the afternoon. 

 It’s Wednesday that the game is scheduled, four days after Eddie and Will became acquainted with one another. And, at 3:30 pm Wednesday, Will’s bike stops before an abandoned automobile shop. Upon entering the lights flicker on and he shields his gaze, confused and slightly nervous. 

 Standing by the lightswitch is his fellow dungeon master Eddie Munson, who hurries to the table they’ll set everything up on. 

 “Why’re we doing this in an abandoned building?” Will asks. 

 “Well we used to do these types of things at Hawkins High, but, something tells me if I showed my face there I’d get sniped or some shit like that, so we’re just using the ol’ junkyard.” 

 An awkward silence permeates the air as dice and boards are laid out. 

 “Remember the battle plan, my young friend. The valkyrie have come to ask our players for help on their holy crusade against the mandibulas.” 

 “The mandibulas, right. Did you make a stat block for them?” 

 “Absofuckin’lutely I did! I don’t have anything else to do, my alternate education doesn’t start ‘till September.” 

 Eddie slides a piece of paper over with a poorly drawn demon that has a comically large mouth. In his scratchy lettering are the hit points and attacks of their made up enemies, the mandibulas. Will smiles as he sets the paper down again. 

 “I think they’re gonna hate us,” 

 “Good! They’ll hate it, and then, when they win, it’ll be even more fun for them.” As he speaks, Eddie pantomimes what he says, embodying his words quite literally.  

 “You really don’t stop going, do you?” Will jokes. 

 “Nope! I’ve wasted a year being all drab and shit, I’m tired of it!” 

 “I guess that makes sense. Y’know, you’re a lot more optimistic than I am about that kinda thing. I’m still… sad and it’s been, what, three years since my thing? Four?” 

 “Now you listen to me and you listen good.” 

 With the seriousness in Eddie’s voice, Will can do nothing but focus and listen. 

 “Look at your problems. You look at the world and all the assholes in it and you mash them up with your problems and you walk right up to them. You walk right up to them, you see, and you give ‘em the bird, and you say ‘fuck you. I’m gonna live my life and your shittiness isn’t gonna stop me’. Now I’ve heard you’ve been through some shit Will and, to be honest, I don’t know what it is but I can imagine it was bad. So you’re fine to not be as optimistic as some dipshit who barely got his toes wet when it comes to bad shit. Alright? No matter how you’re feeling it’s fine. And I’m telling you that because when I was your age there wasn’t anyone to tell me that. Sound good?” 

 Will sits, a hopeful smile on his face. Has he just befriended the coolest guy ever? Well, aside from Mike and Lucas, of course. Sorry Dustin. He looks up at Eddie and grins, chuckling ever slightly. 

 “What? I’m serious!” 

 “I believe you! I know you are! And, well, thanks. I’ve never had someone tell me all that advice before.” 

 Bits and pieces of it have of course been told to him from the likes of his mother and brother, but, never in the free-thinking and wild way Eddie Munson has just presented it to him. 

 “‘Course, kid. We’re all fucked up. We’ve just gotta help each other through our fucked upness.” 

 The door creaks open just as Will goes to respond, Jonathan and Argyle busting in with bottles of soda and boxes of pizza in tow. 

 “Please tell me you didn’t get pepperoni,” Eddie harps as he opens the box, groaning at the pepperoni wedges. 

 “Sorry dude, thought you said get pepperoni when you called.” 

 “It’s fine, Argyle. We appreciate you coming early,” Will pipes up, “have a seat.” 

 At 4:15 pm, the game begins, everyone having arrived in succession. Lucas and Erica after Jonathan and Argyle, then Dustin, then Mike and El and, finally Robin, who comes five minutes late. Five minutes after the game starts Jonathan and Argyle woop and the others roll their eyes. 

 Will watches as his friends erupt in roars when the villain is revealed and he cannot help but laugh, letting Eddie take over as he snorts and wheezes. 

 “He takes your head in his meaty hand and, with his claws digging into your flesh, flings you into the wall!” A d6 is rolled. “4 bludgeoning damage.” 

 “Fuck, I’m dead!” Yells Argyle. 

 “Not on my watch!” Says Erica, whose cleric uses her turn to heal Argyle’s barbarian fairy named Chad. 

 “Will, passing the game over to you so I can eat!” 

 “Oh, uh, alright-” he looks at their plot setup and begins to read the monologue of the main villain, Eddie giving him the occasional approving nod or thumbs-up as he DMs the rest of the fight. 

 “Standing in the aftermath of a mighty battle,” Eddie begins, “you find that the village people have run out of their homes to come and thank you,” finishes Will. 

 “You are forever heroes to the people of Gikla, and shall have statues built in your honor.” 

 “Congratulations.” Will concludes. 

 The board is tipped down and a whooping applause erupts among the players. Laughter and jokes are exchanged in earnest as lively conversation blooms, the after-high of winning leaving everyone giddy. 

 It’s about midnight where people begin to head home. First go El and Mike, then Erica and Lucas. Soon after them, Argyle and Jonathan go, motioning for Will to follow as they head out to the car. Will stops in the doorway, however, and turns to look at Eddie and Dustin. 

 “Hey Eddie, thanks man. Thanks for everything. Your advice and co-DMing was appreciated.” 

 “Any time, Byers.” 

 A car horn honks outside. 

 “Gotta go, bye Dustin! Bye Eddie!” 

 With that, Eddie and Dustin are left to stand alone, Eddie packing his things and walking with Dustin back to his van. 

 “To your mom’s, right?” 

 “Yeah, just like the old times!” 

 “Yep, just like old times.” 

 After a long stretch of silence during the drive, Dustin speaks. 

 “Dude, he like, totally looks up to you now.” 

 “Who?” 

 “Will! You’re probably like another brother to him already.” 

 “Really now?” 

 “Yeah! Guess that makes two of us now.” 

 Eddie smiles, sparing a quick glance at Dustin’s happy expression before turning into Dustin’s neighborhood. 

 “Oh you kids really shouldn’t be looking up to me.” 

 “We know, but we will anyway!” 

 “I’ll convert you to satanism,” Eddie chides lightheartedly, rolling his eyes as he pulls to a stop in front of Dustin’s house. Dustin snorts. 

 “Well, thanks for taking me home, Ed! Maybe we could get a new campaign started soon!” 

 “Definitely not with Vecna though.” 

 “Yeah, no, not with Vecna.” 

 After a few final jokes and goodbyes, Eddie drives off, turning on the radio. His drive back to his uncle’s house is serene, filled with happy thoughts about his friends. 

 They look up to me. 

 That’s so weird, they look up to me!

He cranks the radio up to its highest setting, speeding down the empty roads. 

 Maybe Dustin’s right, being the babysitter isn’t all that bad. 

[akarinittalovers]

How You Meet

•Nanaba

The first time you ever meet her was back in the cadet corps. You came from a hunter family from the forest inside of the wall Rose so when you first join the cadet corps you barely knew anyone there and you are quite shy because of your accent so that doesn't help at all.

It was Nanaba who approach you first. Both of you began to regularly chat with each other during your free time between training and classes. Over time both of you grew closer.

You decided to join whatever branch of the military that she will join. Even though both of you are one of the top ten graduates instead of joining the military brigade and life a peaceful life you decide to join her to the Survey corps.

While you plan to protect her during an expedition outside the walls for the first time the reality is much crueler than the story of Knight in shining armor. The truth is she is much stronger than you, while you are reasonably skilled as a soldier she just more proficient in fighting Titans. So in the end, she is the one who protected you.

Your first expedition was nothing sort of disaster. From more than twenty new recruits that join the survey corps, only you and Nanaba survive the whole ordeal. The only silver lining to this was both of your skill doesn't go unnoticed. Both of you are promoted and place on the best squad on the whole survey corps, the Erwin squad (This take place some years before the fall of Wall Maria).

After some years have passed both of your careers on survey corps were going well, especially after Keith Shadis step down as the commander and Erwin became his replacement. You get promoted as one of the section commanders and she was vice-leader of the Mike squad.

Side Story:

At first, you thought Nanaba was a man. When she tells you the truth, you immediately apologize to her profusely. You should have seen your panic face at that moment.

She just laughed at you and tell you not to worry. "Don't worry about it. It almost happens all the time, " she told you but That got an opposite effect on you. You just felt even worse for her and that resulted in you absentmindedly told her "You got pretty hair."

Trivia:

Her hobby is training/sparring with you. Two of her favorite exercises are close-quarter combat and ODM gear training.

Your current score of sparing with her is.

#CQB:

Nanaba vs Y/N

29-21

#ODM training

Nanaba vs Y/N

35-28

•Anka Rheinberger

When you are first to meet her it was at the orientation event of the garrison troops. You are one year her senior and you are left in charge of her in your squad.

She was the type of person who takes the job seriously and as you expected she was rose up through the rank quite was and in almost no time she was outranked you. She was even put under Commander Pixis squad directly.

One thing that wasn't expected was not long after she was put under commander Pixis squad you are also promoted there. Later you found out that Anka has written a letter of recommendation on your behalf.

While it's true that you are quite a reliable person and the only reason you weren't promoted was that you had some grievances with your superior officers and if you being honest you wouldn't mind not being promoted since are already in a pretty comfortable position but still it was incredibly nice of her. Now both of you are working side by side once again.

Side Story:

She doesn't like to drink or see people drink during the day, especially during work hours. This was probably due to her workaholic personality.

But during the night and day off, she absolutely loves to drink. Both of you are occasionally going to the pub together. Compare to you she was a heavy drinker.

Trivia:

Her favorite drink is beer and her least favorite liquor is wine.

•Rico Brezenska

The first time you meet her was in 850 during the battle of Trost District after the second appearance of the Colossal Titan. Particularly it was during the closing part of the Battle.

You were assigned to the elite team under her command to escort Eren Yeager to seal off the breach on Trost District. Miraculously this suicide mission was a success, the wall was managed to be a seal.

After that harrowing experience, you and Rico along with Mikasa Armin and Eren Yeager were evacuated by the Survey corps thus both of you doesn't get involved in the operation of retaking the wall, Trost. Since only both of you from the garrison elite squad survive the whole ordeal both of you place on the same squad from then point forward.

Side Story:

Rico was well known for her strict attitude because of that she was feared by her juniors and even her Superior. So they usually go through you first to get her.

Trivia:

There are rumors about you two dating and both of you are unaware of this.

•Lara Tybur

The first time you meet her was when she was first introduced as a new maid of the Tybur family. You were task to train her to be a good maid.

She was a great learner, she picked up maidservant skills pretty easily. That being said her skills as a maid were quite inferior compare to you.

So that is why you were angry when you learned that she will become the head of the maidservant and Butler of the Tybur family. The position is usually reserved for your family who faithfully served the Tybur family for generations.

Jealousy and curiosity as to why she was chosen to become the head of the servant make you act foolishly. One day you interrogate her on her true identity and that is how you learn that she was a member of the Tybur family moreover that she was the inheritor of Warhammer Titan.

But that was the start of an unlikely friendship between jealous Maid/Butler and Princess in disguise. She suggested that it became both of your little secrets.

Side Story:

Both of you are usually hanging out in the secluded part of the garden during your free time. Both of you usually have a launch there and chatting.

Trivia

Lara's favorite snack is Takoyaki the traditional food from Hizuru. She was an expert at cooking and her skill in that field are far surpassed you. Also, she loves sports and singing.

•Nifa

The first time you meet this stylish gal is when you first joined the Survey corps. Being your senior she was left in charge of you and your squadmate for your training & first expedition outside.

During your training as a survey corps - about at least three weeks before your first expedition outside - you grew to admire her. You saw her as someone who could be relied on. You aspire to become her.

After several expeditions outside of the walls, you become experienced soldiers and even got a nice position in your squad. Although Nifa is no longer with your squad because of her role there was only temporary.

Side Story:

You were crying a lot after your return from the first expedition. The combination of horror from Titan and seeing your comrades get eaten was too much for inexperienced soldiers like you. But Nifa was there to comfort you.

Trivia

Nifa is the most stylish member of the Survey corps. You often see her doing some sort of makeup in her free time.

•Frieda Reiss

You were Frieda's childhood friend. You grew up on a Reiss family farm where both of your parents work as a farmhand.

You meet her when she was visiting with her father on the farm. You were a shy kid so Frieda was first to approach you. Although you were resisted at first due to everyone's insistence you reluctantly agree to play with her.

Honestly playing with her wasn't that bad. She has a big sister aura around her and she is very smart so she can teach you a whole lot of things.

But one day an accident struck, both of your parents were involved in a stagecoach accident while delivering goods from Reiss estate. Unfortunately, your father passed away while your mother's right leg has to be amputated.

Though fortunately for you and your mother the Reiss family are willing to take care of both of you while your mother recovering from her injuries and later employs her as a maid. So, for a few years, you and Freida are living on the same roof.

Things go on like this for at least a couple of years until you reach the age of 15 years old. While you're thankful to the Reiss family especially to Freida but for some reason, you felt like a burden to them and you don't want to get more indebted to them. You decided to leave them behind and join the Survey corps.

Side Story:

Frieda is a couple of years older than you and she was the one who teaches you how to read and that is how you become the only literate member of your family.

Trivia:

Frieda loves to tease you. You see Frieda as a big sister figure.

[soullessmocha]

i think; therefore i am || part one

{ fem! witch reader x poly!the lost boys }

|| part two ||

part rating: teen

word count: 20716 (i am so sorry)

part summary: a nomadic witch running from her dark past (reader) finds her place after travelling the states on the shores of santa carla. in a way to make money she sets up a booth on the bustling boardwalk where she gives a few readings to a couple interesting characters for some loose change. this night she discovers she isn’t the only supernatural being.

warnings: mature language, mind manipulation, violence, use of tobacco, a cute familiar, nightmares, allusions to being burned alive, witch trials, hints to major character death, visions, and the lost boys being violent (mainly david.), this has not been proof read it has merely been skimmed.

“I promise I will be good. Please mother!” You yell towards the cloaked woman who looked at you with a disdained look on features. Features you once found comforting and like home turned on you in an instant. Those soft features are now rigid and gaunt from stress and aging, but the worse link to all the features was the cobalt blue eyes. Eyes that reflected the moon so sharply that it was almost mirrored. Eyes so sharp and focused as your mother shook her in disappointment, “No, you won’t,” her words were forthright showing no emotion behind it. How did someone who you called your mother betray you and not even take a second glance? “No, no! Wait! No, I promise!” You start to trash against the rope that is wrapped around your body, confining you to a large wooden pole. Stretching your body to its breaking point as the only color you could see was red. Then it was hot, burning, seething your skin away as one of your sisters lowers a torch at your feet. Your eyes connect to the moon as your throat lashes a blood-curdling scream into the starry clear night.

Gasping for the air you shoot up from your makeshift bed, sweating coating your skin in a glossy layer. Your lungs rapidly gasp for air as they burn from your fears that have your heart racing so much it punches your ribs. A shift in the bed causes your attention to shift. Your cat, a scruffy black devon rex steals his way up the side of your bed. His head tilting before making his own way into your lap a loud purr radiating off of your pet in his best attempts to calm you. You lift a shaky hand to plop it down on the cat’s back who tenses for a quick second before stretching his paws to your chest, reminding you to breathe. A slight smile comes to your lips, “I’m fine, Finn. Really,” you sigh and rub away the hair sticking on your face from the layer of sweat on your skin. “It’s always the same nightmare.” You admit to your furry friend who makes his way to the tail end of your bed. He stretched and tipped his nose upwards as his spine curled sniffing the air as if he was trying to investigate the surrounding area. With your heart rate slowed just the slightest you pull yourself from your bed and shuffle through the hallway that leads from your bedroom to your living space in the trailer you parked on the cliff overlooking the beach. The sun was setting, casting an orange hue in your trailer, the light catchers reflecting rainbows as they twirl mindlessly from the free breeze coming through the cracked window. Peace. That was a safe haven. However, with the sun setting you realize you have taken a nap when least expected. You must’ve needed it after the first night of working on the boardwalk. Who knew reading tarot, runes, and palms to tourists would take so much energy out of you.

A sigh escapes your lips as you attempt to step around Finn to get to your closet where you pick a black outfit with an ornate shawl to help you stand out. 

“Be good and protect the home,” you kneel down to scratch Finn under his chin after you have gathered your last-minute things and open the trailer door to have it close behind you. A quiet meow echoes from behind the door and your smirk at the small goodbye from your pet. It didn’t take you long to start up your old truck with a few hits and a couple pumps for the clutch to make your way down to the boardwalk parking lot.

The night was the same as before but this time a couple of well rounded security guards started to come up to the booth later on into the evening. The wind was a bit harsher and the waves crashed in rhythm of the music that was being played on the tiny radio next to your ankle. The boardwalk was filled with all strains of life. There were well rounded individuals taking their picture perfect families for a night out to teens dressed in all black with every inch of their face covered in piercing and colored hair. You preferred that crowd. Then again it didn’t help to get money from those picture perfect families who you only give half ass readings for. When the heavy boots of the literal rounded security officers approached your booth were you snapped from your thoughts. Looking them up and down you can instantly get a feel of their energy, they were hostile and annoyed by the night already. Yet the night was still so young. 

“Excuse me, do you have a permit to be setting up your booth here?” The officer with the mustache questions shifting his weight onto one leg jutting out his hip.

“Yeah, you need a vendor permit to even set up here on the boardwalk,” the skinnier one of the couple started before picking at the cloth of your booth, studying it with a devious smirk. “You tell fortunes? Tell me how we are going to kick you off the boardwalk.” The two chuckle at the joke yet in a calm manner you stand with your hands on the ornate cloth. 

“I do tell fortunes, but not those who tend hurt others because they have a flimsy gold badge on their breast,” you start and give a rather deceiving smile as you tilt your head. “I do not have a vendor’s permit to be out here. However, I am sure you know how hard it is to make a living during these times. Surely you can give me a pass.” You suggest and the fatter one with the mustache snickered at your suggestion. The two looked at one another but as they looked back at you they were met with purple hazed eyes and fingers that were pointed at them which radiated purple energy. “Now, I hope you will listen to me,” you begin this time your voice was an octave deeper as you displayed your abilities to them. It wasn’t hard to sink into their minds and be able to control such a feeble psyche, the purple illuminating from their eyes indicated you were in. You didn’t even need to chant a hex to even get them to repeat after you, “I will not approach this vendor anymore.” They repeat and a smirk quivers on the corner of your lips, “I will not terrorize anyone who I deem… different. I will walk away now and forget I ever saw this vendor.” Once they repeat you flick your wrist the two men turn on their heels and quite literally march away to whatever other duties they have. You grumble to yourself as you sit back down pushing the skirt under you so you can sit properly on the chair. 

As you adjust your trinkets and cards on the table you can hear from afar an excited young boy's voice, “Mike! Look! It’s a fortune teller. We have to do this!”

“No Sammy, we said we would go to the concert and meet mom back at the entrance. I am not stopping for some phoney fortune teller who just reads some useless cards to tell me literally nothing.” the older voice replies back with an annoyed tone and quite ready to walk in the opposite direction. You don’t look up to give the hint you are listening, in fact you lean back in your chair starting to shuffle your tarot deck because indeed you know the two will end up before you.

“Well too bad. I came here to have fun and you’re ruining it. Live a little Mike. You’ve been grumpy all day,” pouts the young blonde, “plus I didn’t say you needed to get a reading done. i got my own money.”

“How did you get money?”

“I stole it from your wallet!” The younger one laughs and charges his way over to the booth and you make eye contact with him, his grin was wide and full of innocence. Blue eyes that were striking amongst the moonlight, they glimmered with hope and curiosity. “Dammit Sam!” the older one whom you assumed to be the brother charges behind. “Hi, how can I help you today?” You asks in your kindest customer service voice. The young boy holds out the ten dollar bill, “I would like a reading if I could have one please. Mom always told us about her tarot card readings, but I would like one for myself.” He grins to the side as he looks over his shoulder to his older brother, a brunette with a strong build who seems to already be annoyed just standing next to this booth and his brother. “Why of course, thank you! Take a seat please.” You request and glance over to the older brother, “If you’d like a seat by all means sit.” He didn’t respond, only took a glance at you before looking away. He was skeptical and nervous. Of course he was. “Normally I don’t do readings for such young gentlemen like you, but I like you already, so I will do a general reading. Now before I get started, may I have your name?”

“Sam,”

“Nice to meet you Sam, I am Y/N. Thank you once again,” you grant a thanks and start to shuffle your cards. Normally with normal individuals the cards don’t have this much energy. You give a breathy chuckle and shuffle fiercely before a card flies from the deck. You plant it face down before looking young Sam in the eyes giving him a playful smirk at his eagerness. “You two have a lot of energy for you, that’s a good thing.” You compliment but the older brother just snickers and crosses his arm before another card flies out. It didn’t take long for the third to fly out. You align the cards, “Alright let’s see here, this card represents you. The page of cups,” You smile gingerly at the card before flipping it to show the boy. “You are filled with wonder, you love your family and have a curious nature to you.” You can see the boy is looking at the card with curious eyes. Take in the fancy man holding a golden chalice balance on one foot and his heel. He is dressed in quite jarring clothes like the boy sitting in front of you. “You also love to express yourself in ways that are creative, like your fashion, or music.” You not before hovering your hand over the next card. “This card represents the path you are on," you flip over the card to see the emperor standing sitting on his throne high and mighty, “the emperor. Now this card is quite powerful, one of my favorites. You are on the path of seeking how to defend yourself and those you love. How to become more powerful in the sense of trying to find structure and to grow in your sense of logic and practicality.” At this point you didn’t even notice the older brother has now sat down. Full attention on you and the cards. You give him a wink before turning your attention back to his younger brother, “It seems like you’re trying to find a father figure role within yourself or by others.” The boys' features soften from a grin to a saddened look, that must’ve struck a bit too close for home. “Let’s continue, shall we?” You ask and he slowly nods glancing over at his brother. You carefully flip over the last card, “This card represents your potential,” your eyes glance down at the justice card. The figure holds a sword and a scale in each hand, sitting on a chair with authority as a scarlet drape is behind them. “Justice. You know what it’s like to be wronged, treated unfairly, you will have to face the truth soon. Whatever that truth is, you have to see everything from each point of view. Going back to the Emperor, you need to be logical and work on that skill in order to find your Justice. You will generate peace and harmony to those who surround you.”

“Wow, thank you, that’s- that’s awesome,” Sam thanks you leaning back in the folded chair carefully eyeing his brother who was staring diligently at the card, studying them and seeming astounded. You lean forward and tap the table under his nose. “I can do a reading for you as well, free of charge. I like your little brother. However, I would like your name.”

The blue eyed brunette looked up at you with wide eyes, filled with wonder and trying to read your own eyes. “Michael. My name is Michael,” you smile at his name and gather the cards back into your pile. You shuffle in the bustling white noise of the  busy boardwalk. A card flies out and lands face down on the table. You shuffle until two more fall from the pile. “Alright Michael, let’s see who the cards say you are.” Your black painted fingers flip over the first card to be greeted by the figure of archangel Michael blowing on his trumpet as the words read ‘judgement’. “You are going through a new journey, a new beginning. You are starting anew. You also find comfort in sharing your struggles with others who relate and you want freedom from your own troubles. Then we have,” You start flipping over the second card, “the ten of swords.” You whisper and you glance up to see his worried eyes look at the pictured body stabbed by ten swords pinned to the ground. “Don’t overthink it.” You whisper ducking your head to make eye contact with him, trying your nest to make him feel safe. “You're going to be betrayed by someone you begin to trust. The pain inflicted runs deep not because what they have done is hurtful, but because you know deep down that this marks the end of your relationship as you know it with them. You will grieve the loss of the relationship. This card is about letting go and accepting your circumstances.” There was silence between the two, you could hear a pin drop if one was to.

“It’s a warning,” you say and clear your throat to ease the tension a bit. You flip over the last card to show the lovers card. “The lovers,” you smile longingly at the card, “you will be ready to establish your own beliefs and follow your heart in the end. You will find love for yourself but love will also find you. In every choice you make on your path, there is an equal amount of advantage and disadvantage, opportunity and challenge, positive and negative. I am excited for you to find your other half.” A warm smile comes to your lips but there was wary to the middle card, that card showed the journey he was going to begin was going to something dark. The clapping of a hand on someone’s back causes you to jump out of your trance. “Well gentlemen, I hope you got the answers you two were looking for. Thank you for stopping by, if you have any more questions or any more services, I will be here.”

The two respond with weary smiles and slowly get up from their chairs with soft thanks as they continue to make their way down the boardwalk. A twinkle of a smile was left on your lips as you watched them walk away. 

Hours later you find yourself with a tip jar that is half full and a bag that contained crumpled bills that were stale and some damp. A sigh leaves your lips as you clean up the station, cleaning up the scrying orb in its case and the tip jar in the bag full of bills. Just before you started to take down your sign you saw four shadows cascade from behind you. A low hum left your lips and you turned on your heel to see four men standing in front of you. Quite young looking, dressed in all black, a couple more than the others. A small smile peaked your lips. “How can I help you gentlemen?” You ask the stoic figures as they stare down at you, purely interested and emitting a strange energy. They’re energy was really strange but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

“Well we were seeing if it wasn’t too late to get a couple of readings,” the one with the spiked platinum blonde hair responds. His head tilts as he looks into your eyes. For a second you had to look away from the piercing blue eyes because you felt your head go dizzy. 

“Of course, what are you looking for? I do tarot, palms, and even runes.” You inform as your make your way to your side of the booth. Your folding chair creaking as you sit on it, your posture upright and alert. 

“Well, Marko? Which one do you want? You begged to come over here before they closed.” The platinum spoke up again, you tried to get a read on him, by his upright body language he seemed to be the leader of the little posse. Though you were new to the boardwalk you never really saw them around. How did you miss them? Granted you were new to town, but only by a few weeks.

“I’ll go with a palm reading if it means the cutie gets to hold my hand.” The one name Marko pipes with a chuckle from his peers. You can only roll your eyes playfully to play along, “Well sit down, palm readings start at $10 for that comment.” You tease the curly haired man who skipped to your hair and held out his hands with a snicker following. The fingerless gloves covered most of his palm so you nod your head towards his hands, “May I?” You ask before he responds with a nod and cheesy grin. As you started to slip off his hands your eyes peered over his head to watch his friends behind him. You take in their appearances. The platinum blonde was starting to light a cigarette. The other wild haired blonde was walking forward to admire the trinkets on your booth. While the tall brunette was giving you a cold stare as he watched you take off his friends gloves. Each of them donned a single earring and a jacket that was different to their individuality. You clear your throat and look at Marko, “It is nice to meet you Marko. I hope you find this reading useful and beneficial to you for the future.” You start as you take his cool hand into yours. Overlapping his hand with yours you didn’t mind the cold hands, or think much about it, the night was quite chilly.

You roll your shoulders back and roll your neck to relax. As you did a shock was sent through your nerves and you gasped sharply. As did Marko who received the same energy suddenly, causing a pained groan to leave his throat. The energy surges up to your neck causing you to close your eyes tightly. A vision. Pain. Darkness. Betrayal. You can see through Marko’s eyes. He was in pain and bleeding everywhere. There were inhuman screeches all around him; his friends jolted around in him in disturbance and rage. Then you realized they were hanging upside down. Their faces looked like nothing that they did now. Features were contorted, eyes were bloodshot and yellow, and teeth sharp. Just as your vision ended you felt a stabbing in your chest just like the object in Marko’s chest. A pained yell left your throat. There was an echo of Marko yelling out in pain and incoherent yells of the boys behind him. 

You shot Marko away from you with shadows of purple energy following him. The chair shot about six feet from under him and Marko rolled to a stop with the wild blonde following after him in concern. 

“What the hell was that?!” The leader booms rushing to your table, his hands grasping the table with a crushing grip. You could hear it crack as you try to catch your breath. The pain was unbearable. “What the hell are you?!” He interrogates again with a sharp tone. This time he threw the table to the side effortlessly. You gasp and stand in response. Your hands fly up in a contorted shape with purple shadows lingers around your fingers. The leader was stuck in his palace, grunting and struggling against your will. Pants leave your parted lips, brows furrowed and pained as you hold back the leader. Exposing your power.

The three other men kneel around their curly haired friend. Your eyes flicker to them, “There is one thing I can’t stand about vampires,” you croak, holding the leader in his place bringing him as you walk closer to the boys. The look on their faces when you announce your knowledge of their supernatural being, now that look was priceless. “They don’t know how to control their temper.” You choke out as purple energy hazed over your eyes. Their eyes widened at the energy around their leader and the shine from your eyes. All of them scramble to their feet. 

The brunette was first to act and you were faster to stop him mid run. He was now frozen under your spell. Energy outlining his shape as he looked around frantically. You wipe your hand causing him to fly straight through the railing and far out into the ocean with a purple orb pushing straight into his chest. Then with another flick of your wrist the leader went flying right after the brunette with another orb following to make him go further. Your purple eyes scanned towards the two blondes who looked hostile yet intimidated. Before they could even take a step you waved your arms and contorted hands in front of you, to each of their bodies, with a cross of your arms the two slam into one another with a crushing thud. You push the energy out with your arms and hands and the two blondes went flying far out into the ocean following their peers with purple orbs pushing into their chests. 

You were left there on the dark boardwalk, cascaded under orange street lamps, panting with purple shadows flowing around your eyes and glowing in your eyes. Your adrenaline pumping through your veins caused your breathing to become ragged. It took a beat for your breathing to return to normal. You slid your stance back to normal to show your calming nature. Your hands return to your sides no longer casting purple energy and your eyes are their normal color but still widened in fear. Behind you was your booth table broken in half, your items thrown all about wildly from the wind, and your scrying orb shattered near your feet. Dollar bills flying wildly wherever the ocean breeze takes them. 

Taking one last deep breath you tilt your head out towards the crashing onyx waves. The humid breeze thrashing your clothing all about. You press a clammy palm to your forehead as you curse quietly to yourself, “Shit.”

a/n: this is the first part of a series that i have been writing on and off for the past month. i’ve always wanted to incorporate a witch into the lost boys because it would be so interesting! this will be sort of slow burn poly!the lost boys kind of vibe. please let me know if you’d like more of this series. thank you so much for reading!! 🖤🖤🖤

[larphacks]

Process Hack: Welfare

Hi all! After a long hiatus, ya boy is back with more unsolicited advice!

What are we talking about this week? It’s LARP welfare!

Common at medium and large games, the role of welfare officer, sometimes called “site parent”, and sometimes divided into crew welfare and player welfare, is very important. It’s also something which can go really smoothly if you do some decent prep before the event. I’ve been discussing the role with some LARPer friends recently, and I’ve put together some advice for good ways to tackle this role.

Some of the below advice falls into the category of sensible prep that everyone can do before a game too, so feel free to read even if you don’t hold (or want to hold) a position like this!

Some of the jobs I outline below might not fall into every welfare officer’s purview - mix and match as you choose. (If you’ve been asked to look after player or crew welfare and don’t know which of the below are your responsibilities, that means you need to have a chat with the chief organisers and find out!)

1. Positive Energy

This can be a surprisingly high-energy role. Particularly in the crew room, one of the most important things a welfare officer can do is be positive and energetic when everyone is feeling a bit tired and down. This is hard! But a bit of jollying-along goes a huge way to changing the dynamic. This is even harder when YOU'RE the one feeling tired and cold and sad. But if you are visibly struggling, nobody will approach you when they need help! A "brave face" is your best weapon.

2. Shut Up!

Sometimes you need to be the "voice of reason" - getting people to concentrate, or quiet down, when it's important that something needs to be done quickly. One good way to do this is to be cheerful enough most of the time that people LISTEN on the rare occasions that you raise your voice and ask them to please shut up for a minute.

3. Early Start, Late Finish

The two above points are ESPECIALLY important during set-up and take-down. You need to be "on the ball"/on duty during periods where other people are transiting into and out of the game. During set-up, your keen crew and players will all be busy frothing and sniffing each other's butts because they haven't seen each other for a year, they want to show off their new kit, and their adrenaline is through the roof. But - it's 30 minutes to time-in and nobody's in kit and the IC areas aren't set-dressed. You need to get them moving!

During take-down, everyone is exhausted, a bit overwhelmed, and wants to sleep (including the refs). But the site needs to be taken down, cleaned and tidied up, lost property needs to be organised, and there are always last-minute disasters involved in the logistics of getting people off site. You can't collapse now - your job isn't done. You might not be in charge of take-down, but you ARE the right person to gently corral and rally tired people towards the plan.

4. Who does what?

If you're the first point of call for someone who's having an issue, being able to confidently signpost to other crew is really important. So firstly, you should know exactly what the other other staff members do and where they're likely to be (in both time and space). If a player comes to you and says "I'm really struggling with the Sorcery rules and I feel very stupid", then sure, you can (and should!) offer them some immediate comfort and consolation. But in order to help them with the root of the problem, you need to know several bits of information:

a) What are the different staff members' responsibilities/expertises? Who does what? (Mike is the person who handles Sorcery rules.) b) Where in space are the other staff located? (Mike is currently refereeing the Clawed Fiend encounter on top of the hill.) c) When in time are the other staff available? (The Clawed Fiend encounter can't be interrupted. It is scheduled to end at 2100hrs. Mike should come back to the crew room after that.)

I'd also recommend you have a good "ticket-tracking" system to make sure your incoming queries are handled and nobody falls through the cracks. You could devolve this onto players ("Come back at 2110hrs and ask to speak to Mike") but it will help things flow smoothly if you are also logging things yourself. I'd recommend carrying a small notebook and pen so you can note things down and tick things off. You can also help things along by being an active communicator and setting the emotional context for solutions. If Mike comes back at 2100 and immediately gets jumped by an emotional player, he might be tired and confused and not give the best answer. But if he comes back and you tell him "There's a player who is having a bad time with the Sorcery rules, they seem quite distressed, I think you can help, they'll be around in 10 minutes" then he won't be surprised and will have the right bit of his brain switched on.

5. It’s all in the Filofax

There is admin information about players/crew which will really help you if something goes wrong too. I'd suggest having the following on-hand, glued into your notebook, on a tablet, or otherwise kept secure on your person (since some of it's sensitive personal data):

a) A list of everyone's allergies and medical conditions. b) A list of qualified first-aiders, and the locations of first-aid kits. c) A list of every vehicle on site, registration number against player/crew name, in case you need a car moved in a hurry. d) A rough understanding of who arrived from where, with whom. It doesn't need to be exhaustive, but if the vehicle which brought 6 people from London breaks down irrecoverably, then being able to help sketch out solutions to get those people and their kit home will be massively easier if you know roughly where people came from.

6. The Outside World

You are likely to also need to be able to signpost to help *outside* the game. If a player comes to you with a problem that can't be fixed with on-site resources, what are you going to do about it? You can't predict every scenario, but at a minimum I'd suggest having the following prepared:

a) A breakdown service for the vehicle that won't start (in the UK the most common is the AA). b) A mental health or emotional support helpline, like the Samaritans (116123). c) The emergency number for injured wildlife - in the UK, the RSPCA (0300 1234 999). d) The emergency and non-emergency medical numbers (in the UK: 999 emergency, 111 non-emergency) and police numbers (UK: 999 emergency, 101 non-emergency). e) A clear understanding of where on site you can get mobile phone signal. f) A plan for how you would get an ambulance onto site if you needed one: run through the whole thing (where on site can I get enough signal to call the ambulance? What is the postcode of the site, and do I have a set of clear directions to give the dispatcher in my notebook? Who am I sending to the site entrance to walk the ambulance on? Is their most likely route of approach clear for a large vehicle?). If you've never called an ambulance in this country, then ask someone who *has* to practice with you, so you understand what questions they'll ask and in what order.

7. Kit & kaboodle

The following are things which LARPers reliably fail to provide for themselves, and which you will benefit greatly if you have on hand. Find out from the organisers what your budget is, and buy accordingly:

a) Salty snacks (crisps/nuts) and quick energy (sweets/fruit). Keep a small separate store aside from the usual 'crew food' to help someone who is struggling. b) The ability to make a hot sweet drink in a hurry. c) Hydration solution (Dioralyte, Powerade, or the cheap alternative, which is six teaspoons of sugar and half a teaspoon of salt per litre of clean water). d) Paper and pens. e) High-powered torch (for searching for lost objects). f) Your own phone on an in-country network, plus at least one charged mobile phone powerbank with multiple charger ends. g) Ice packs - ideally the "squeeze to activate" sort so you aren't relying on the site freezer. (Most common item left out of first aid kids - and immediate relief/comfort for the most common LARP injuries.) h) Warm blankets. i) An idea of how you'd provide a simple hot meal in a hurry. (This could be a packet of rice you can chuck in the microwave, a cup-soup and kettle, a ration pack and a Jetboil, or a good understanding of what the caterers' plan is for an emergency meal.)

If someone is in a lot of distress, going through the process of dealing with their physical needs (food/water/temperature/etc.) can often help them become better able to communicate their psychological/emotional needs. Often a LARPer who is dehydrated or low on blood sugar doesn't KNOW that's the problem, they just know they feel awful and are crashing hard.

8. Know the Ground

KNOW YOUR SITE - I can't stress this enough. If someone has a costume disaster and needs somewhere private to change, where can they do that? If someone is overwhelmed and needs a quiet, safe, cool (or warm) room or tent to lie down in for an hour, where can they do that? If a shy new player shows up and asks "Where do I put my kit?", then being able to answer them quickly and competently with a smile on your face will immediately endear you (and mean that they WILL come to you later, when they're suffering, instead of sitting alone on their bed being sad about it).

9. Late Bloomers

What is the late arrivals plan? If you went IC at 1900 and the traffic means some of your players don't arrive till 2200, then most of your key refs/crew will be busy running the game. You're the most likely person to escort the late arrivals onto site, get them set up, and get them integrated into the game. You'll need to reassure, but you'll also need to understand a lot of admin details to make sure they don't feel any more overwhelmed and embarrassed than they already do. This might involve giving a second safety briefing, pointing out any last-minute changes that weren't included in the game pack, and pointing them to the right ref to get their characters timed in. You can be as nice and friendly as you like - but some people will be even more reassured by practical, reliable and clear directions when they’re feeling rushed and panicky.

10. Herd those Cats

What is the crew plan? Depending on role, you may or may not be involved in "crew wrangling" - this is often a separate role, and deserves its own post. But even if you aren't "crew boss", you need to understand and be able to help balance crew energy and engagement. If there are long periods where crew are likely to be sitting around bored, where are the "pick-up-and-play" roles they can briefly read, digest, and go out to engage in? If crew are doing three hours of back-to-back combat roles, where is the plan for ensuring that they're all fed, watered, rested and properly kitted before their next high-energy role? The best refs will have considered this and have a clear plan for managing crew in small teams to maintain their energy levels - but as a welfare officer you are likely to be the advocate/interface if it doesn't seem to be working well, so make sure you understand where the weak spots and frictions in the plan might be so you can deal with them in advance.

What happens if a crew member comes to you and says they're really struggling with their NPC role and aren't enjoying it? (If you're the approachable face, they'll likely come to you first before a busier ref!) Do you understand the crew matrix well enough to think about solutions, alternative roles they could do, or how the timetable could be re-worked to end their role early? Wherever possible, you should strive to go to the refs with a solution rather than a problem: "Harry is struggling and I think if we brought the poisoning forward an hour, then let him play a gremlin for the rest of the night, that would fix it" is better than "Harry is struggling". They may not accept your solution, but the conversation is already moving onto alternative ways to fix the problem.

11. Easy In, Easy Out

How do players enter/leave the game if they're fatigued or unwell? Your game may not have a clear system for this, and it may be players' own responsibility to manage their fatigue. However, some will struggle to cross the IC/OC divide here: if the character is fighting for their life, how do they resolve that with the player needing to have a lie-down for an hour so they're safe to drive the next day? One of the best games I've run had a clear, signposted system where players who needed a break could "vanish" IC (with a clear IC logic for their disappearance) and take as much time as they wanted. When they were rested, they could go see a ref for a special briefing which told them what had happened while they were away (and explained how they reappeared). You won't find this in every game, but think about ways to make taking an OC break feel like a positive and productive experience, which leaves the character with plenty to talk about when they return, rather than a potentially embarrassing one which leaves the player out-of-the-loop and feeling like they've missed out on the fun.

12. Look After Number One!

Practice active self-care, both to facilitate all of the above and as a good example to others. Going back to the first point, most people can't project positive energy if they're sad, wet, cold, tired and hungry. Have a routine worked out to look after yourself. Understand what you can and can't do and work to your limitations. If you have lots of physical energy but are struggling to deal with six emotional crises in a row, get up and walk around site. If moving exhausts you, pick a central location to base yourself and make sure all the things you need to do your job are in easy reach.

Feel free to reblog with your own additions, checklist items or hacks for looking after your fellow LARPers’ welfare. Suggestions gratefully accepted!

[marmolady]

The Wreckage of What Was

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC

Summary: Rourke Ending. An explosive encounter with the woman who was once her wife has left Taylor shattered.

Word Count: 3528

Chronology: Directly following on from 'There Was This Girl'. Read that one first!

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic

Curled up under the covers, her head tucked in against her chest, Taylor closed her eyes tighter, ignoring the knocking on her apartment’s door. Or, at least… she tried to. She wasn’t sure of the time. There hadn’t been much point in checking; she wasn’t going anywhere. It mattered little if she fell behind in her classes. Straight A’s wouldn’t free Varyyn and his people from Rourke’s enslavement. Nor would they allow Jake and Mike to stop running, to come home. Nor cure Quinn’s Rotterdam’s. And they sure as hell wouldn’t make Estela know her again. Love her again. Tears prickled Taylor’s eyes. The skin around her eyes and nose was red raw from crying, from being wiped and dabbed by what felt like enough tissues that she could call herself personally responsible for the felling of a small forest. Still, the tears came, because the all-encompassing sadness, the helplessness, just didn’t stop.

“Taylor! You can’t just hide in there forever!”

She didn’t want to see Diego. It made no sense to her that he didn’t loathe her. She’d been the one with the deciding vote, and it was she alone who could’ve fixed everything… if only she’d had the guts. Taylor saw herself as a coward; the one responsible for every wrong Rourke inflicted on this world. Diego had trusted her, and Taylor had chosen the path that tore him from Varyyn’s arms, and torn everything else from Varyyn in the process.

“TAYLOR!”

Then Zahra’s voice cut across him. “For fuck’s sake….” There was a creak as the door swung open, then approaching footsteps.

“Tay?” Diego called, right at her door this time.

Taylor’s groan of frustration turned into a roar, and she sat up in bed.

“You’re not great at taking hints are you?” She knew she was being unnecessarily mean, and she hated herself for it. But the fact was, she’d done enough to make him miserable without him being sucked into the black hole of despair she seemed to have become.

Diego pushed the door open. If he was hurt, it didn’t show on his face. His eyes were just sympathetic… kind. It was kindness she didn’t deserve.

“I think you know you can’t shake me that easily,” he said airily. “Have you eaten today? It’s after three.”

Avoiding eye contact, knowing how much of a mess she looked, Taylor sighed. “I haven’t been hungry,” she said, her tone flat. It was true. She’d barely touched a thing since everything with Estela had blown up spectacularly in her face. To get up and eat something, she’d have to find the energy to move, and for the most part, that had been eluding her.

Diego disappeared back out the door, and some rummaging-sounds later, returned with a plate of crackers and dip. He approached the bed and sat down on the edge… close enough to make it known he was there for Taylor, but not close enough to be pushy.

“Look, I know you don’t have any appetite right now,” he said, “but something small is better than nothing. Think you could do that… for me?”

Taylor huffed a little, and tidied up her hair as well as she could manage without going so far as rummaging for a brush. She looked her friend in the face, properly, for the first time since he showed up. He looked worried. Really worried.

It had been four days. Four days since Taylor had taken a great leap of faith, and fallen. For a little while there, it had actually been easy; having Estela near had felt natural, even if few words were ever exchanged. But Taylor had misjudged things, badly. There had been some… charged looks between the two of them…. moments where time slowed, and suddenly it was her old Estela seeing her, maybe even wanting her. It had been wonderful. If only it weren’t for that creeping knowledge that she was taking advantage; Taylor knew Estela, Estela didn’t know Taylor. The dishonesty of it all had troubled Taylor to the point of spurring her to action… and spilling all.

Obviously, Taylor had sounded deranged. She’d known that before she so much as opened her mouth to start, but her crazy story was the only truth she had to offer. Going on about Rourke changing history-- what the hell kind of reasonable person wouldn’t think Taylor had lost her mind? And Estela… well, Taylor already knew that Estela had no patience for anyone trying to screw with her. She hadn’t been ready, though, for the anger. She’d seen that anger in Estela’s eyes before, but never dreamed it could ever be directed her way. And, oh, it had hurt.

“You’re too good to me,” Taylor mumbled. Reluctantly, she reached out and took a cracker. For Diego.

“What best friends are for, right?”

Taylor put on a valiant, if ultimately sad, attempt at a smile. However much she might have felt it for the best, she simply didn’t have the heart-- nor the energy-- to push Diego away. “Well, what’s your plan?” she asked. “Sit me in front of Shrek until I believe in true love again?”

And so, they huddled under a duvet and watched Shrek. The dragon set Taylor off crying again, but it was generally a good distraction while they ate. Once the crackers were polished off, Diego nipped out to grab some ice cream-- the fancy kind usually reserved for Very Bad Days. It was a rare and potent breed of sadness that couldn’t at least be tempered by ice cream, but it seemed that Taylor was afflicted with just that. Even if the pain in her heart couldn’t be lessened, though, she was grateful for Diego… far more than she could say.

Her bowl empty and the movie done with, there was little for Taylor to do but to wallow in her own thoughts. The very same that had been so intent on dragging her under. At least now, though… at least she wasn’t alone with them.

“I’m… so lost,” she croaked after a long while, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“Yeah?” Diego rubbed her arm comfortingly. “I… I get that.”

Taylor looked down into her empty bowl, contemplating everything. No matter how many times she turned things over in her head, she always came out confused. The path forward-- if there even was one from this hell she’d unleashed-- was tangled with thorns and riddled with dead-ends and traps. She’d been stumbling through, fearful of causing even more damage while knowing that everything she cared for rested on her success.

“I feel like… maybe I was wrong? Maybe it wasn’t right to just blurt everything out? I mean, you remembered, didn’t you? Maybe if I’d just left it… she might have just… worked it out herself. It’s not like there’s a fucking hope of her remembering me if I’ve scared her off….”

“Hey. Our Estela doesn’t scare easily. And you know what? Maybe the fact that you sounded absolutely batshit crazy will help in the long run. You’ll stick in her mind.”

“And what if… what if what I’m trying to is actually… is actually just going to make me the person who hurts her most?”

Diego’s brow furrowed. “You’re losing me.”

“What if she’s better off? I know she felt so betrayed when I took this path but….” Taylor roughly ran her hands through her hair. This had been damn near driving her crazy. “She’s got her mom back, Diego…. It’s like her mom was never murdered. If I wasn’t so selfish, if I just let her be… she’d never have to feel that pain.”

For a few moments, Diego pondered; a couple of times he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, as if not quite sure of what to say. At last, though, he just came out with it. “I think… I think you’re just grasping onto another excuse to beat up on yourself. I’m sorry, Taylor.”

“Wha--”

“You heard,” Diego said firmly, obviously finding his resolve to really help as he looked Taylor right in the face. Even if it was hard for her to hear. “And honestly? I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking about. When we were up on that rooftop, did Rourke even try and win Estela over using her mom as a bribe? No-- because he knew that would only make her fight him harder.”

Taylor exhaled through her hand, now pressed against her face as she wrestled with her thoughts. Diego… had a point. “She’d have broken his freaking nose, then and there.”

“Exactly!”

“So, what does that mean? That I’ve failed and there’s no consolation?”

“I think,” Diego said, calm and steady, “that we’re in for a long haul. But I also think that there’s a part of Estela that really, really misses you, even if she doesn’t know what it is. Like… even before I remembered, I could feel something was missing. And I was drawn to you. Even if Estela thinks you’re crazy, you’re still that person she fell in love with a couple-thousand times over.”

“You’re betting an awful lot on Estela falling for the person who, by all appearances, is nothing but a delusional stalker.”

Shadows of sorrow crossed Diego’s eyes. “Well, I’ve got to. There’s… not really much else.”

Taylor snuggled close, squeezing her friend… the only one she had left, and one she could not be convinced she deserved. But she was all he had, too.

“I know… I know this is all making you crazy. And I know a big part of you hates yourself for making the call you did. But hiding in here and beating yourself up isn’t gonna do anything but make you feel worse. However much you think you deserve to feel that bad, I can’t let you give up. I can’t.”

Her friend’s words made Taylor wince. There really was no option; she simply had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Keep putting on a smile to should-have-been friends while her heart was quietly breaking.

Diego took a long exhale. “So. You can have today, and you can have tomorrow. But then, you pull yourself together. There are too many people counting on you for you to go to pieces now.”

Taylor nodded, and tears dripped down onto her lap as Diego held her. Being there for him meant letting go of her own self-loathing, however hard it was. If he still believed she had it in her to fix this fucking mess, she’d fight to her dying breath. The floodgates had opened, and she cried and cried, feeling everything she knew would soon have to be quashed back down. His own eyes spilling, Diego kept on rubbing her arm, supporting her always.

Messily wiping her face on her sleeve-- it was already crusty with tears and snot anyway-- Taylor gathered herself. Deep breaths. In… and out.

“I really miss her,” she said after a long while, soft as a whisper. To say it loud just made it bigger, and it was already tearing her apart. But if she was moving forward, that pain had to be expelled… else it swallow her. “And it just… aches. When things got scary-- and to be honest, when were things not scary?-- she’d just… slip her hand into mine, and hold me. It’s been months-- I know it’s been months-- but I can’t keep myself from half-expecting her fingers to wrap around mine, and just like that… make everything better.”

Without a word, Diego took Taylor’s trembling hand in his own, his thumb stroking tenderly.

When he closed his eyes, Taylor knew he was imagining Varyyn holding his hand. And as she closed her own, Taylor let herself, for just a moment, be held by Estela.

On return to reality, Diego’s face was wet with tears. He offered Taylor a watery smile. They were in this together.

“Hey,” Taylor said shakily. “Will you… will you stay?”

“I’ll stay.”

________________________

True to her word, Taylor forced herself out of the apartment come the day after next. Hard as it was, if she didn’t keep up with her studies, she’d risk losing her place at Hartfeld, and any hope she might have of reconnecting with her loved ones. Winter had set in, and for most students, life consisted of hurrying between one heated lecture theatre and the next, or sheltering in the library, cafe, or student union building. It seemed every heater on campus was mobbed by a tight circle of students, and the queue at every coffee outlet busy. Taylor joined the masses, huddled up in the library with a long-awaited coffee and a heavy text book. It would be all too easy to let the gloomy weather negatively impact her already fragile emotional state, so the best thing she could think to do was surround herself with activity.

Her mind strayed to its usual fretting-- about Estela, about Diego and Varyyn, about--

Taylor yelped as hot coffee burned her mouth. She knew the library’s drinks always came out piping, and cursed herself for being so goddamn distracted. Cheeks flushing, she set down her cup.

“Are you okay?” asked a familiar, kind voice, hoarser than it should have been. Quinn had turned around from a bookshelf, concern upon her pale face. “They do go a bit over the top temperature-wise here. I’m guessing you’re used to the coffee shop?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Taylor replied ruefully. “But no, I should know to be careful by now. Sadly, I just felt something warm between my hands and all rational thought deserted me.”

Quinn laughed, which, to Taylor’s horror, brought on a fit of hacking coughs.

Oh, Quinn.

Around the campus, Quinn was easily the most elusive of the group; quite an achievement when Estela insisted on keeping herself as inconspicuous as possible. It was a constant worry for Taylor and Diego, knowing what they did about their friend’s illness. Logic told them that if circumstances around her had changed little with Rourke’s interference, Quinn might be expected to survive at least until the end of junior year, but all appearances made it clear she was in a very bad way. Weeks could go by without either of them catching a glimpse of Quinn around the place, and it was downright frightening.

“Hey-- sit down,” Taylor urged gently. “Don’t want us both to hurt ourselves over my lack of judgement.”

Quinn sank into the chair beside Taylor and struggled to catch her breath. A fearful Taylor hopped up and started rubbing her back.

“Do you want to grab you a glass of water?”

“I’m okay-- kff-- I just need a-- kff-- a moment….”

Frustration was clear upon Quinn’s face. Not wanting to be over-bearing, Taylor eased back… but those coughs sounded so painful….

Slowly, Quinn got control over her coughing. “Better…,” she said, eyes closed. She opened them slowly, and offered her companion a shaky smile. “It’s Taylor, isn’t?”

“Yup, that’s me. Quinn, yeah? I haven’t seen you around in a while?”

Quinn’s smile became stronger, as though she was genuinely delighted to be remembered by what was a passing friendly face. “The colder weather hasn’t been doing my health much good. The school’s understanding; what can be done from home I don’t have to come in for. But sometimes I just want to brave it and actually be a part of everything.”

“Yeah?” Taylor said, “that’s understandable. All this dreary weather… it has its way of making loneliness hit even harder.” She pursed her lips a moment. “Look, if you ever want a study buddy…? You could even stop by my place-- not to be presumptuous or anything, but it might be more comfortable than having to fight for a spot by the heater here.”

A shadow passed over Quinn’s face, her smile growing sad. “That’s really kind of you to offer, and-- honestly?-- I’d love to take you up on it. I just… well, things are quite difficult for me right now.”

“It’s okay-- no pressure. I just want you to know that you’ve got a friend on campus if you need one.” Sitting back down beside Quinn, Taylor picked up her mug and gingerly took a sip. Much better. “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Oh, just the one,” Quinn said more brightly, clearly relieved at the change of subject. “I’m taking Visual Arts. I do a bit of painting-- not really seriously, more just for me. I was a little worried that study would take some of the fun out of it, but it’s turned out to be the bright spot in my schedule. If I can make it in person for anything, I always aim for Visual Arts.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it,” said Taylor, and she took another, braver, sip of coffee. It was all useful information-- apparently this would be the most likely time of week to have a surprise Quinn encounter. More importantly, it was reassuring to know that it was not, in fact, all doom and gloom. “I’ve got to head off for my Introductory Chemistry practical in about ten minutes. Painting sounds a lot more fun-- wanna trade?”

Quinn just laughed.

Yeah…. Thought not.

_____________________________

As a general rule, Taylor didn’t actually mind Chemistry that much. It wasn’t exactly her bag; the equations had a habit of drifting in one ear and out the other, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. What made it painful now, was Estela.

A few weeks ago, Taylor had been overjoyed to have been placed in a group with the woman who had once been her wife, but a lot had changed since then. Estela had furiously warned Taylor to stay away, and Taylor had done just that, both out of respect for the wishes of someone she loved, and out of plain fear that she might fuck it all up further. There was no crossing the quad to avoid this one, though.

It was as uncomfortable as Taylor had anticipated. Estela looked right past Taylor, directing all communication to their third group member, who seemed oblivious to the tension. Taylor wasn’t sure how-- the air was so fucking thick with it she could barely breathe. Her hands shook as she measured out materials, and it was by virtue of a lucky save that she didn’t drop a test tube of chemicals onto the floor.

Everything in Estela’s body language, in her expression, screamed that she’d rather be anywhere else-- anywhere at all-- than there working alongside Taylor. The feeling was mutual. Taylor watched the minutes pass by agonisingly slowly as they slogged through the experiment. If she had to speak, it was only the bare minimum to get the work done. Never, never had she felt more alone in Estela’s company. She’d experienced indifference before, indifference that had fueled her longing until it hurt like a physical wound. But now Estela regarded Taylor not as a person of little consequence, but as a threat, and that was far, far worse. Trying not to wither under that fierce gaze, Taylor soldiered on, until finally, the experiment was concluded, and she was free to pack up… and head home for a stiff drink.

As she turned the tap to rinse the last of her test tubes and beakers, the water gushed with a sudden force, spraying Taylor down her front.

“Crap!” she cried. It was near freezing outside, and to have a clothes sopping wet would make for a very uncomfortable walk back to the apartment. Well… it was just her luck.

Taylor pulled off her jacket, and bit back a sigh. As her problems went, a bit of cold and wet was pretty much nothing. Hell, if home, and Diego, and a pile of blankets was at the other end, she’d put up with far worse. Grumbling a little as she packed up her things, Taylor braced herself for a great rush to get between this warm shelter and the next. But as she stepped through the doorway--

“Wait!”

That voice made her turn. It always would.

“You’re going to catch your death. Tonta.” Estela rolled her eyes and shrugged off her hoodie. “Your shirt’s still wet. Here.” She thrust the hoodie into Taylor’s hands.

“You don’t have to--” Taylor stammered, utterly taken aback. Remember to breathe, you idiot!

“Taylor. Just put it on, will you? Unless you want to freeze.”

Getting over her surprise, Taylor took the hoodie. Discomfort was plain on Estela’s face, so she didn’t linger to make the exchange any more awkward. Just a smile of thanks… and they parted.

Taylor looked on, stunned and watched as Estela slung her bag over her shoulder and jogged into the shadows. A chill wind hit her, and she hastily pulled the hoodie over her head. It was warm, and the scent of Estela, heart-achingly familiar, lingered. A tear, just another in a long, long line, prickled Taylor’s eye as she breathed it in.

She brought the front of the hoodie to her face and closed her eyes against the scent and feel of home.

It wasn’t over yet.

[numbaoneflaya]

I got a lot for you, you don't have to answer all of these 💀. 2, 4, 8, 21, 35, and 50 for Jilly. 3, 7, 10, 41, and 64 for Valkya. And 6, 7, 14, 25, and 52 for Mike. And a large fry 😁

I FINALLY DID ITTTTTT IM SORRY FOR THE WAIT!! all under the cut bcs ofc its LONG

JILLY

2. What are their favourite possessions? Why? (sentimentality, history, price, etc)

-She has 2 stuffed ferrets shes had since she was little :) she calls them stinker and slinker and she loves them so much. Also a collection of friendship bracelets she pretty much makes matching ones for everyone she likes and wears them in rotation.

4. Are they a good gift-giver? What do they tend to give as gifts? -Jilly LOVES gift giving bcs she naturally hoards and steals shit and then ends up with too much shit, so what better to do with it than give to friends?? You're likely to get anything she can swipe that reminds her of u. Tries to vary it to suit whoever shes giving a gift to but her go to is something like stuffed animals and jewelry bcs thats what she likes best

8. What does their dream house look like?

-She would like an at home gym with giant climbable pillars and hoops and obstacles, or just a house with a lot of land and forest she can run around in. She's also way a fan of hidden passages and secret hiding places, anything she can snoop and weasel around in. No scary basement tho

21. What’s their ideal date like?

-Carnival or theme park! Anything with lots of action and noise and prizes. Shed want to play all the games for hours straight and go on all the biggest rides.

36. Do they trust easily? What would you have to do to earn their trust?

-Yes she trusts easily :/ mayhaps too easily. Her way of thinking is innocent until proven guilty and even then, it takes a looooot to make her start to doubt someone because she wants to believe everyone has good intentions. To earn her trust, being nice to her and other ppl is the easiest way, but she's also prone to trust you if you seem secure somehow or just in charge like a position of authority.

50. Why would they be a good partner for a road trip?

-Snacks. On demand. She packs every snack and drink you could ever hope for and stashes up on blankets and pillows too. The type to wanna play my spy and car games and to sing along really loudly to music. WILL stick her head out the window sometimes. Will want to stop at every roadside attraction. Just for fun the reason she might be a bad roadtrip partner is that she talks a lot. And will be loudly singing and sticking her head out the window. And after a while the car will start to smell vaguely of ferret and she might shed.

--------

VALKYA

3. Do they get jealous easily? If so, what usually causes it?

-Shes really not a jealous person at all, especially not romantically. Shes pretty chill in general. Even so, some times she gets jealous of all the time other people get to spend with Naryu. If Valkya feels like someone else is being prioritized over her shes more likely to act out like a baby ggdghdf

7. What’s their “type”? What romantically attracts them to another person?

-Women who could kill her and men who are pathetic, but shes open to anything. Has a thing for nerds, goths, vampires, werewolves, short people, assassins, and most importantly people who are easy to fluster. She will bone anything that moves

10. What’s a simple thing that brings them joy?

-Finishing a good book, especially a series. When shes not in life threatening danger or fucked up out of her mind shes a pretty avid reader. She likes having the free time to sit around a fireplace and snuggle up with a book, though she'll deny it if caught and say she doesnt know how to read hgfdgsd.

41. What would they dress up as for Halloween?

-Demetria 💀 shed just steal her clothes and stretch TF out of em gsdgdfhsd. Or dress up as herself bcs who needs originality when your famous?

64. Describe what their social media would be like.

- Random memes from the last century all mixed up, millions of selfies and nudes out of nowhere. Drunk posting at 4 am and getting into fights w Dem over dumb shit, subtweeting everyone to start drama. Has thousands of followers and does giveaways of shit she finds lying around her house for no reason but shes bored

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

MIKE

6. Do they prefer to have a big social circle, or a few close friends?

-Shed prefer to have a few close friends as long as they ride or die. Most likely die tho. Shes desperate for frienship shell stalk someone to get to know them really well and then delude herself into thinking theyr besties. Sometimes it doesnt go well but she still gets a meal out of it even if shes sad

7. What’s their “type”? What romantically attracts them to another person?

-Someone who looks like they're up for fun! Really into alt fashion and people who seem like they dont give a shit. Confidence, fighters, rebels, anyone she can party hard with. Likes people who are interesting and is especially interested in befriending other killers, they have so much to bond about!

14. Who do they go to in a crisis/emergency? Any particular reason why they choose that person?

-Probably Zeke tbh. Since she turned him hes like the only other vamp besides prim she knows and hes always pretty level headed. Probably goes to him for advice on how to make friends and hes like “maybe dont break into ppls houses and drain their victims out of nowhere :/” and shes like “that was ONE TIME and it worked!!”

25. What are their dreams like?

-All chaotic! Theres seldom ever a storyline or anything, just bright colors and random things happening and an overlying sense of panic or dread. Like those images you look at to understand what having a stroke is like, everything is off color and melting and shes usually running away from something. Typically nightmares but about nothing in particular, just disconnected sounds shapes and figures.

52. What topic should nobody bring up around them, lest the other person be subject to a massive ramble/rant?

-ANYTHING to do with twilight. She knows everything about it. Has seen and read is 12 times over and can quote it directly at any time, do not attempt to argue twilight with her. Diehard team Edward forever. If your tied up and somehow the topic of it comes up just pray she kills you soon bcs she will go on for hours and bring out her annotated copies and force you to go through them with her.

[vennilavee]

the soul of a flame - ch 2

ignite

the soul of a flame masterlist

pairing: levi x reader of color

summary: levi sees you a few more times at the silver sapphire, where you’re in your element.

warnings: alcohol, cursing

word count: ~4000

a/n: mostly a filler chapter to establish characters and the setting. also i might be adding several chapters in between, after further outlining LOL. enjoy! plz reblog and leave a comment if you liked this 

***

You were definitely not expecting the bar to be this busy tonight. Neither you nor Misaki had known that the Survey Corps were about to go on a big expedition, which explained why anyone with a green cape who was old enough to drink was in your bar.

The expedition was in a few days, far enough in the future where it didn’t feel like it was looming just yet. The grim truth is that you’d see fewer and fewer of those green capes every time they’d come back. You wonder what exactly happens on those expeditions, but it can’t be anything good. You have a soft spot for them- they’ve treated you kindly for the most part. 

It’s those damn MP’s that grate on your last nerve. The number of times that some of them, especially the older ones, have barged into your bar. Demanding free alcohol as some kind of payment for “protecting” the citizens of Wall Rose.

The number of times you’ve forced them out. It’s one too many.

You’re working up a sweat as you try to keep up with everyone at the bar. There’s dirt on your navy blue blouse and it’s bothering you every time you glance down but you haven’t had a chance to rub it away. You’re also certain that there is dirt on your face as well but you pay no mind to it. There’s no time, after all. Not when there’s dozens of soldiers who are desperate for a drink and a good time.

You fleetingly wonder if you’ll see any familiar faces. You’ve met some members of Squad Mike, Squad Levi and Squad Hange at least once. You’re the most acquainted with Squad Levi. You’ve even met some members of the Garrison regiment, including Hannes and Rico Brzenska, who reminds you somewhat of someone you once knew a long time ago.

Your thoughts flutter to Levi. You’ve seen him two or three times so far, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy his company. As rare as it was that he came by. He’s so easy to tease, and sometimes he gives it right back to you. That makes you smile when it happens.

Drinks are flowing, your arms beginning to get tired from the tumblers of ale and mixed drinks you’ve been refilling over the last hour. It’s bustling and noisy, just how you like it. Misaki’s in the same boat as you, carrying two trays filled with snacks and drinks.

Squad Levi is at their usual corner of the bar, but Levi isn’t with them. You wonder if he’ll show up later, but your thoughts are pulled away from the grumpy Captain when Squad Mike saunters into your bar with Mike himself leading the charge. The tall man sticks out from the rest as he generously sniffs around the bar. You’ve heard from Oluo that the man has a few interesting habits.

They look incredibly happy for a team about to embark on a potentially fatal mission. You suppose this is the territory that comes with being in the Survey Corps.

And where is their Commander? Erwin Smith. It’s been years, over a decade since you had last seen his piercing, blue eyes. You doubt he remembers you. It’s a memory even you have to reach into the depths of your mind for. 

But still. If anyone should have a drink tonight, it’s him.

You manage to sneak in a shot or two to steel your own nerves when you see Erwin walk in with Levi right next to him. You meet Levi’s eyes and wave at him.

“Commander Erwin,” You nod, “Honored to meet you, sir.”

He’s as intimidating and commanding of respect now as he was back then. You watch his face for a flash of recognition but there is none. Seemingly.

You offer both him and Levi a drink and excuse yourself to help Misaki out with the new orders that have come through. 

You’ve slowly come to realize that the Survey Corps really knows how to drink. When you deliver a drink to Erwin and his table members, you wryly tell him that the Survey Corps budget must be bursting at the seams. If they’ve got enough money to splurge on alcohol like this.

“We only splurge like this once in a while. When we know that many of us won’t be returning,” He replies and you nearly shrivel up from his icy gaze.

You can’t help but feel like you’ve been scolded like a schoolchild. You leave them to their devices, deciding to work on the growing pile of dirty dishes in the back. The flow of orders has slowed down and you’re hoping you can keep up with the cleaning.

“Loosen up, Erwin,” Levi says easily, after a sip of his whiskey, “Maybe that stick up your ass will loosen up, too.”

Erwin rolls his eyes at his Captain and takes a drink of his earthwater. It had been the recommendation of Hange, Moblit and even Levi himself.

He’s pleasantly surprised. 

Levi leans back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. He watches you and Misaki flit around quickly between tables, almost like a dance. You both work together synchronously to fulfill orders and even have the time for small talk with the patrons of the bar. His gaze is unwavering, maybe even harsh. He sees a few specks of dust on your cheeks and your forehead. 

It bothers him more than it should. 

The next time you circle back to their table, he can’t help himself-

“Oi. You’ve got some dirt on your face,” Levi points out, looking up at you from his seat.

Your cheeks heat up and you haphazardly rub your face. In an attempt to clean your face, you end up smudging the dirt around even more and Levi shakes his head. At this angle, Levi can see a stain at the collar of your navy shirt.

How annoying. 

You walk away from them after taking their orders and Levi watches you head to the back supply room. Levi waits a few beats before following you inside.

You nearly let out a screech when you come face to face with him. He moves so quietly and he raises an eyebrow at your jumpiness. 

“You made the dirt worse,” Levi says plainly, pointing to your cheeks.

The bar is filled with people, noise bouncing and echoing off of the walls. You can hear the bustle even in the supply closet. Your cheeks are hot again, your throat dry and you grip the box in your hands tightly. The chatter of conversation is somehow drowned out by the intensity of Levi’s silver eyes. 

“So you followed me in here?” You joke nervously.

“It’s bothering me,” Levi murmurs and steps closer to you. 

He’s only a breath away from you, and the quip that was on the tip of your tongue dies on your lips. Your dark eyes are wide, and god, has it always been this hot in here?

“You mind?” Levi asks quietly, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket. 

He knows how this looks. But you shake your head immediately, words seemingly stolen from your throat. Levi presses his clean handkerchief to your cheek, rubbing gently against your heated skin. And then your forehead, and above your eyebrow. He sees your scars once more, just above your eyebrow and his eyes flicker to the one below your clavicle.

Levi pulls his hand away and you wonder if he can hear the sound of blood rushing to your ears. The lamp behind Levi somehow both illuminates and casts shadows on his striking features, his eyes melting silver into yours.

He tucks the handkerchief in his pocket and notices your eyes flicker to his lips. Then back to his eyes. 

But he takes a step back and has a hand on the doorknob.

“Your collar is stained, too,” Levi mutters.

With that, as if he hadn’t almost touched your face with his bare hands, he exits the supply closet and heads back to his table. Levi downs his drink quickly and tells everyone at his table that he’ll be leaving. And that they should do the same.

It takes you a few minutes to regain your composure.

***

Levi is alone tonight. It’s the first time he’s heading to the Silver Sapphire without his squad. It’s eerie, he decides, kicking a stray rock out of his path. It’s quiet, and yet he can hear the muffled sounds of conversation in the night. A light breeze dances through his hair and he looks up, seeing that the moon is nowhere in sight.

He stands outside of your bar and leans on his cane, hesitating for a moment but ultimately making the decision to pull the door open and go inside. There are a few people scattered across the bar, some in quiet conversation with each other and others sitting in silence. He recognizes a few faces from the arrival parade from earlier this morning. Perhaps they are drinking their sorrows away. 

Perhaps he should, too.

Levi doesn’t see you at first glance. He sees a tall woman behind the bar, with long, dark hair, sharp features and piercing, green eyes. She makes her way over to him with a notepad and a pen in hand.

“I’m Misaki. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

“Just an earthwater.”

And she’s gone as quickly as she came.

Levi allows his eyes to wander, subtly searching for where you might be. He sees you emerge from the backdoor, your arms filled with new glasses and tumblers. You carry them with ease, without a worry of shattering even a single one.

He leans back in his seat, peeling his green Survey Corps trench coat off. He folds it and places it on his lap as he murmurs a soft thanks to Misaki when she brings him a full glass of earthwater.

It’s as bitter and sweet as he remembers it, and he downs the glass in less than a minute. Levi passes a glance at the other end of the bar, the end that he knew Oluo and Petra liked to sit at. They said it gave them the best view of the main street and that it was quieter on this side of the bar, where they could hear each other speak.

Well. They were dead now. The thought makes Levi want another drink. How annoying.

As if reading his mind Misaki comes by once more, asking him if he’d like another drink. He nods, and Misaki is sure to add a little more alcohol in his earthwater. He looks like he needs it.

A flash of Petra’s bloody face lights up in his mind. Then, a flash of her father telling him that she’d chosen to dedicate her life to him. 

Another long gulp.

Then, a flash of Eld’s fiancée. Pleading, needing to know where Eld was. And then her bright eyes flooded with tears, asking if he had died valiantly.

And the truth was, even if Levi himself wasn’t present… He is certain that he did.

Another even longer gulp. The alcohol burns in the best way. He isn’t one to do this, to lament over fallen soldiers much less, lament over fallen soldiers over alcohol.

But it feels different this time. It’s his team.

Levi doesn’t realize how tightly he’s gripping the glass in his hands, and he doesn’t flinch as he finishes off the rest of it.

***

Your curiosity is piqued when you see Captain Levi sitting alone at the bar of the bar, clutching his drink like his life depends on it. You see a cane poking out from the bottom of the table. Is he injured? You wonder where his team and his friends are. Then you recall that there was an expedition recently.

You swallow dryly. Had his team perished outside the walls? An unwelcome pit of dread buries itself in your belly. You cast a wary look at Levi, wondering if he’s planning on drinking himself to oblivion like so many of his fellow soldiers do after a loss.

Though, he doesn’t seem the type to do so.

You wonder if you’ll ever see Petra or Oluo ever again, though you feel as though you have the answer already. A familiar sort of melancholy settles in your bones, one that you’re all too familiar with. One that you’re certain Levi is familiar with, as well. Busying yourself with restocking and attending to other customers, you can’t help but glance at him every so often. He’s staring into nothingness, his gaze shifting from the floor, to the other side of the bar, to his glass, and finally you.

You hadn’t been expecting that, but you hold his steely, grey gaze. It’s empty and stern, making you want to look away. But you don’t. You hold your ground and watch as he brings his glass to his lips and takes a hearty sip.

You wonder if he’s thinking of that moment in the supply closet. And yet, it seems so trivial now. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think of that moment often.

You’re pulled away from his enthralling gaze by Misaki, asking you to remind her where the new washcloths you had ordered were. You tease her before telling her that they’re in the supply closet, next to the plates.

You’re unable to stop yourself from glancing over at Captain Levi once more.

***

It’s getting late, and Levi is the last one in your bar. You don’t want to usher him out. It’s clear that he’d come here as a last reprieve. Trying to catch a memory of his team from… before.

You’ve already told Misaki that she can go home. She casts a look at Levi but nods, gathering her things and leaving.

You pour a steaming cup of tea for yourself, and for Levi. Probably not a great idea, considering the time it is. But you do so anyway, and sit across from Levi at his table.

He doesn’t react, only casting you a look of acknowledgement. But he continues to gaze at you, in his piercing way. Your hair is pulled away from your face, he notes. Your gaze is just as piercing as his and he finds himself unable to pull away from your dark eyes. The shadows illuminate the highest points of your cheeks, especially when your lips pull apart and you offer him a smile.

“You can kick me out. Don’t have to give me special treatment just because I’m Captain Levi,” Levi drawls.

“You’re not my Captain,” You raise an eyebrow, “Besides, I’m not giving you special treatment because you’re Captain Levi. I’m giving you special treatment because I think you need it.”

“Here,” You slide his cup of tea to him, “It’s on the house.”

“You give everyone drinks on the house this often, or is it just me?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You grin and Levi catches a flash of your pearly, white teeth. 

He scoffs.

“Doesn’t seem like a lucrative business practice,” Levi mutters.

“Well, The Silver Sapphire’s still standing, isn’t it?” You ask dryly, “It’s not bad for business when those fuckin’ MPs and Garrison soldiers tell their friends that the pretty girl with the bar gives out free drinks once in a while.”

“Those fuckin’ MPs,” Levi rolls his eyes, “Shit for brains.”

To his surprise, you laugh, “Yeah. We’ve got a history. Me and the MPs ”

Levi looks at you with the same bored look and says nothing. But he wonders what that means.

“You usually don’t come here alone. In fact, none of you do. You come as friends. It’s why I like the Survey Corps so much more than them,” You say, crossing your arms across your chest. Levi catches a glint of the gold necklace around your neck and narrows his eyes. It has a gold pendant, with a pale green stone embedded in it.

There’s no way that a bar owner could have a jewel that intricate and rare. There’s a story there, he’s sure of it. You clutch the pendant as if it’s a reflex, or a nervous habit.

“My team’s dead. Died during the last expedition,” Levi says bluntly after a few minutes, not missing the way your eyes fill with sorrow and how your smile falls.

“I’m sorry, Levi. I’d heard it was a tough one,” You say softly, “Cheers to them. May their souls rest in peace.”

You raise your glass and he does as well, the clink of the cups echoing in the silent bar.

“They were good. Had good hearts,” You murmur, “I didn’t know them very long but I knew that much.”

“Yes, they were. They died with no regrets. As good people. Good soldiers.”

“And you? Do you have any regrets, Captain Levi?” You ask boldly, watching him through your eyelashes as you take another sip. The tea warms you from the inside out, and you hope Levi is enjoying it as well. But you can’t tell, his face as impassive as ever. 

“Only fools have regrets,” Levi says easily, “Nobody is sure of anything in life. We shouldn’t waste our limited time on thoughts of what could have been done.”

And yet, his thoughts flutter to Isabel and Farlan, before reeling himself back into your thoughtful eyes.

“I suppose,” You murmur, “People can waste their lives dwelling over the things they regret doing. Or not doing. But I guess… there’s no wrong or right choice. We have to feel what we need to feel in order to move on.”

You have a faraway look in your eyes, and it’s mirrored in Levi’s own eyes. You tug the sleeves of your loose shirt past your knuckles, seemingly sinking into your memories. Levi thinks that this has become a habit. Of seeing you up close like this. There is a deep scar along the hollow of your shoulder to your clavicle, and he sees the shallow one on your forehead. The one he had noticed the first time he had come to your bar.

Despite the gold on your neck, the rings on your fingers, the silk of your clothing… You weren’t born to it. You probably crawled your way through, as evidenced by the scars. He idly wonders if there are more.

You rub the back of your neck before downing the rest of your tea.

“Tea’s not half bad,” Levi says, and you know that’s the most you’ll get out of him. You also know it’s the end of your night with him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You scoff.

Levi stands from his seat, shaking his trench coat of any dirt before fastening it over his shoulders. Before he can fix his collar, you step forward and fix it for him. Your fingers are light over the nape of his neck, eyes never leaving his. Dark brown mixes with gunmetal grey, and for a moment you’re transfixed by the way the moonlight strikes his eyes. Making them look like a molten silver.

“I’ll see you soon, Captain,” You say softly as you walk him to the front door.

“Thought you said I wasn’t your Captain,” Levi drawls, amusement outlined in the upturn of his lips.

You laugh, “I’ll see you soon, Levi.”

***

The next time Levi comes by, a few weeks has gone by. In that time, Stohess District had become a titan battlefield resulting in many civilian casualties. You’re wise enough, and selfish enough, to acknowledge that that could have been Trost. Again.

You’re glad that your entire livelihood is on the edge of Trost District, bordering the next town. It had been mainly avoided during the Battle for Trost, save for minor property damages. But still. It’s never a good sign when there are these many civilian casualties.

You wonder what the hell is going on with the Survey Corps, the Garrison and the MPs. Are you all just fodder for their grand plans?

What a life worth living, in these three walls.

It’s one of the few times that Levi comes by when the sun is still in the sky. He seems to only visit at night. Probably because that’s when it’s easiest for him to leave the Survey Corps headquarters. That’s probably when he has the most free time.

It’s a breathtaking sight, seeing the sunlight against his dark hair. You wonder if he even knows that there’s a halo of light on top of his silky hair.

You suppress a shudder. He’s ethereal, everyone in your bar turns to look at him in awe and curiosity. His white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons of his shirt are open. You swallow, trying to lubricate your dry throat. And yet he’s walking towards you as if he was created on the same plane of existence as you. Levi’s face is stoic, betraying no emotion as he leans an elbow against the bar. 

“Haven’t seen you this early in the day before. Almost didn’t recognize you,” You joke and he rolls his grey eyes. When they catch in the dimming sunlight, they almost look blue.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“No need to be mean,” You scoff, “Want a drink? You look like you could use it.”

Levi doesn’t reply, only offering you a grimace.

“I’m here because Erwin’s asked a favor of you,” Levi says in his usual bored drawl, “He wants you to be our supplier for alcohol. For any and all pre-expedition send offs.”

Despite Erwin sending his soldiers to their deaths as often as he did, Levi considers it a small reprieve that they are happy for at least a night before.

“Tell your Commander that nothing I do is for free or out of the kindness of my delicate heart,” You say, leaning against the bar. You’re close enough to him that you can see amusement in his eyes even as he narrows them at you.

“Delicate heart?” Levi scoffs, “Yeah, right.”

“Tell your Commander to stop by again, huh? I’m sure he could use a drink. Especially after dealing with you all the time,” You tease. You can’t help but want to prod him, to see if he remembered you from all those years ago. You highly doubted it. 

Something flickers across his face and you’re almost worried for a second that you’ve offended him. But then you see the small upturn of his lips and your heart nearly bursts in your chest.

“I could say the same. About him and Four Eyes,” Levi rolls his eyes, “And about you.”

“Me? I am a delight to be around,” You say easily and wink at him.

“Is this how you are with all your bar patrons?”

“And how am I, Levi?”

“Insufferable,” Levi says without batting an eyelash and you push his drink towards him.

“Only with you, honey,” You wink at him again and step away from the bar to tend to your other patrons, “Only with you.”

You cast a look at him from over his shoulder, only to find him already looking at you with sharp eyes. 

The evening crowd begins to filter into the bar and you’re unable to stray from your bar patrons. Levi wonders how that smile of yours, as genuine as it is, can remain painted on your face for as long as it has. Your eyes shine with mirth, and you greet your patrons as if they are all long lost friends of yours.

Levi finishes the remainder of his drink before fastening his coat and taking his cane. He winces as he stands to his feet, his leg not quite healed yet. He leaves without saying goodbye, and asks himself when he allowed you and your bright smiles to burrow in his mind. Your flirty words and teasing are annoying to say the least. And yet...

Truth be told, he didn’t really fight this feeling from twining itself inside of him to begin with. And that’s not something he’ll lie to himself about.

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. XCVI

It was a love story from the very beginning.

And You are not here... (Part IV)

(13x05)

Hello my friends! How are you? We arrived to the episode in which Castiel comes back. Yay!

Okay, Dean will be particularly suicidal in this one, and we will have a lot of foreshadows for the incoming possesion.

So, let's talk about this...

Dr. Meadows and The Open Door

The ghost of Dr. Meadows was a blatant foreshadow of AU!Michael. They wore the same apron, experimented with people and monsters and also, the doctor made lobectomies and literally, git inside the patients' heads. Is a symbolism for what Michael will do with Dean.

Look at the doctor...

(gif credit @aborddelimpala)

Yep, the same apron and he burns... Just like Michael will do.

Also this scene...

(gif credit @celestialsonata7 )

The masks, different mask the crazy doc wore, are a symbolism of the different faces Michael will take through season 14.

Another clue of how the season 14 will go, is this tiny dialogue between the two boys at the beginning of the episode, before trying to get inside the Dr. A Meadows Mental Health Center.

Evan: I told you it’d be unlocked.

Shawn: Why would they leave it open?

Leaving the door open, will be seen again in episode 14x02, and it plays a symbolic foreshadow for what will happen with Dean, Michael will leave him but then, he will possesse him again in 14x09. "Leaving the open door for the second possession."

So, if we follow this same statement, we can say Shawn is Dean here. He represents Dean after being possesed, the PTSD.

Penny: Shawn, he….won’t talk. He can’t.

Sam: What do you mean?

Penny: The doctors say…he’s okay physically, that it’s psychological. You know, trauma, like he…he…saw some – saw something so…awful. God I don’t even know what he was doing out that late.

This is a representation of how Dean will be trying to face all the whirlwind of feelings and trauma after Michael leaves him. The kid is muted, just like Dean will avoid talking about the possession. And Shawn draws obssesively, the doc's masks, as Dean will be obssesed in kill Michael after being possesed. (14x03).

Then...

Penny: And, uh, Evan, he’s still missing. Uh… He, Shawn, and their friend Mike Ramos, they’re inseparable.

This is how TFW will be separated because of Michael.

We have another visual narrative clue in Shawn's room, when his mother gets in because he was having a nightmare.

There's a pic on his wall, and is a foreshadow of this scene from 14x04...

The picture shows a red background and a terrifying silhouette of a person. The entire room is Dean's mind. The red color talks about his toxicity. The monster is Michael/John Winchester and his own fears, guilts and toxic behavior, like violence.

The mother is wearing green, as a reminder of Dean Winchester's innocence, usually Scooby Doo represents that too.

The monster doc appears inside of his dreams (head) and also in his own room, as a foreshadow of Michael looking though Dean's eyes, and his possesion.

Dr. Meadows appears in his room, literally possesse the kid, he grabs the mask and put it on his face! Is a blatant symbolism of AUMichael!Dean! and they leave the house. Just like Michael will do with Dean at the end of the season. And also, the meaning of Shawn that escapes the first time but not the second one, is talking about the dynamics of season 14: Michael will leave, Dean will be free just for a few days, before being possesed again, more strongly than before, in season 9.

Suicidal Dean and Sam trying to cheer him up.

If we recall the previous episode, Sam was very shocked because his brother confessed to him he didn't have faith anymore.

At the beginning of the episode we had this dialogue between Sam and Dean...

Sam: Hey

Dean: Hey

Sam: PB&J for breakfast? Strong work.

Dean: Yep.

Well, we all know who was the one telling us that PB&J sandwich was his favorite, right? So... This is not a new observation, but that little clue over there is screaming DEAN MISSES CAS.

So we will have a very cheerful Sammy, giving Dean beer in the morning, pushing him to go to a strip house, and literally, trying to give his brother every usual item he runs into when he is depressed for losing people. He even let Dean being under the number of Agent Page. Their fav.

When Dean sees this, he faves his brother, asking him why he's been so nice to him.

Dean: Okay. Look, I-I’ve been down this road before and I fought my way back. I will fight my way back again.

Sam: How?

Dean: Same way I always do – bullets, bacon, and booze. [Rings front desk bell] A lotta booze.

This is very important, because Billie will refute it in this same episode...

So Dean eats a lot of bacon and stuffs, he drinks a lot, and he even goes to the strip house. But all is fake.

They had their first encout er with Dr. Meadows... And this alarming scene is showed to us...

(Gif credit @smartiespn )

Dean wanted to die here. He wasn't fighting back. He was accepting his death. Why? Is he so affected by Castiel's death and Mary that he wants to die? But why because of Mary, he had lost parents before, John, Bobby, and his convo of bullets, booze and sex worked back then. But why isn't working now? Because the variable her is CASTIEL. He lost the love of his life and nothing will be fine again. SO DEAN WANTS TO DIE BECAUSE CAS DIED. The convo would work with Mary but not with Castiel.

Then, Dean plans a suicidal way out to save the ghosts. He does it so quick, Sam can't react to it. Dean literally kills himself in front of Sam.

The dialogue between Billie and Dean shows again that Dean is in so bad shape, he doesn't want to live, he changed after Castiel's dead. He won't recover of losing the love of his life, his faith. He knows Sam can move on from him. He is able to keep going. But Dean wants to stop. Because Castiel is dead.

Dean: So… am I dead?

Billie: You killed yourself.

Billie is pointing at Dean's suicidal behavior with that plan, because this time is different.

Dean: No. Are you keeping me dead?

Billie: Now that depends on you.

Billie is saying this because she is supecting Dean is different. Dean wanted this. So she tastes waters.

After this there's a negotiation, because Billie wants to know about the AU, because is very important to balance. And the Winchesters just keep bringing chaos.

But Dean exchanges the freedom of the ghosts from the Meadows House for information, the ghosts are released but the deal caught Billie's attention that when she asked for WHAT DEAN REALLY WANTED, Dean choose the ghost and not come back to life.

Billie: Because I do. Because…this whole multi-versal quantum construct we live in, it’s like a house of cards. And the last thing I need is some big, dumb Winchester knocking it all down.

This is important because we do know now Billie hated Dean for this.

Then, the truth is revealed...

Billie: You’ve changed. When you bargained with me just now, you could’ve asked to go back, to live.

Dean: Well, I figured with you in charge, there’s no getting back for me.

Billies faces him with her suspicions, but Dean lies.

Billie: That doesn’t sound like the Dean Winchester I know and love. The man who has been dead so many times but it never seems to stick. Maybe you’re not that guy anymore, they guy who saves the world, the guy who always thinks he’ll win no matter what. You have changed. And you tell people it’s not a big deal. You tell people you’ll work through it but you know you won’t, you can’t and that scares the hell out of you. Or… am I wrong?

(Gif set credit @justjensenanddean )

Dean's silence confirms Billies suspicions. Dean's silence is affirming she just read his mind. He won't be okay, never again. Because this time is different, this time Castiel is dead, forever dead, and he really believe Cas won't come back. Life lost its meaning to him.

Dean: What do you want me to say? Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.

Billie: Don’t you?

Dean really want to stay dead. He is so sad and lost, he doesn't want to live anymore. Nothing matters if Castiel is gone.

Dean: I couldn’t save Mom. I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.

Dean even is feeling guilty because Sam had lost his faith in the previous episode, and because now he is very worried about him.

Billie: You really believe that. [Dean shakes his head yes] You wanna die. Dean…every notebook on this particular shelf tells a version of how you die. You specifically, heart attack, burned by a red-haired witch, stabbed by a ghoul in a graveyard, and on and on. But which one’s right? That depends on you, on the choices you make.

Dean: Well, I guess I made my choice.

Here people, here! Billie makes the diagnosis and confirms his suspicious. Dean wants to be dead. And then she gave a him again the opportunity of come back to life, but Dean doesn't want to come back. He wants to remain dead! He's sure about it! He confirms it again when he says I GUESS I MADE MY CHOICE.

Billie: But…unfortunately none of these books say you die today.

The word unfortunately is not just for her but for him too. Because Dean really wants to be dead.

After this revealing and scaring dialogue, we were shown how deep Dean was into his depression for losing Castiel.

Then, another sad dialogue with his brother...

Sam: You okay?

Dean: No. Sam, I’m not okay. I’m pretty far from okay. You know, my whole life, I always believed that what we do was important. No matter what the cost, no matter who we lost, whether it was Dad or – or Bobby or –. And I would take the hit. But I kept on fighting because I believed that we were making the world a better place. And now Mom and Cas… And I – I don’t know. I don’t know.

Sam: So now you don’t believe anymore.

Dean: I just need a win. I just need a damn win.

Dean is tired, and now he has to live, without Cas, in the real world, and he's tired.

But then... And because "Cas wanted to come back to him with a win" and Dean had just asked for win, Castiel comes back to him. Castiel is his win.

The face Dean puts when he receives Castiel's call is priceless. He is in shock, he can't reply, he can't talk. Is a mix of feelings. He can't believe Cas is alive.

Then the encounter, adorned as if it was a wedding, or how some people described, a parallel to Romeo and Juliet encounter, with the Sam cross as the witness, and the song playing in the background, exhaustively analyzed, "It's not too late to start all over again."

(Gif set credit @codestielckles )

To Conclude:

This episode was magnificently written by Yockey, it was full of symbolism that pointed out to foreshadows to season 14, Michael and Dean's possesion.

But it also showed us how deep was Dean's depression, and which was the real cause of it: CASTIEL PERMANENT DEAD, the idea of not getting him back made Dean's life to lose its meaning. He didn't want to be alive in a world where Cas wasn't there.

Hope you like this meta. See you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh

If you want to be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read my previous metas from season 13 here you have the links:

Vol. XCIII, XCIV, XCV

Buenos Aires, January 10th 2021 1:03 PM

[lupinblacktheone]

The sleepless night

Notes: Hey, guys! This is a Robby-centric short story. Happy holidays!

As a child, Robby never had trouble to sleep, even when his parents left him down, the tears would help him fall asleep. But in his second night in the Cobra Kai dojo, he can’t bat his eyes.

Warnings: mentions of abandonment.

The sleepless night

What time is it now? Something between one and three in the morning.

Robby rolls over to pick up his phone. Scrolling through his social media, among worried messages, offenses and memories of a life he is not a part anymore, he finds a post with the sunset background picture, garish lettering for the inspirational message and everything.

It takes four attempts for him to get an advice out of that, a fragile foggy sentence about asking for help being the first step for actually getting help.

Well, he already is alone in the middle of the night with the floor as his bed, so he moves his finger to the message app.

I’m sleeping on the floor of my father’s old dojo. How ironic, isn’t it? I mean, it’s the epitome of my life. Left behind, surrounded by everything he doesn’t want anything to do with anymore. I would like to have a chance to be more than the son he never cared about. Can you help me?

Next step: choose who will have the opportunity to read this piece of despair. Sam? Absolutely not, he’s not ready to see her again yet. Mr. L? Idem. Johnny? Not in a lifetime. Tory? She already has a lot of things to deal with and doesn’t need Robby around to add trouble – and drama – to her life. Trey and Cruz? He doesn’t want to depend on them. Shannon? She probably doesn’t own a mobile.

As his last branch of hope, he finds Pastor Robert Brown’s personal number and… what dignity he has to forfeit now? He already lost all of it when he went to Kreese in the first place.

He presses the “send” button, puts the phone back on the pile of mats where it was charging and closes his eyes. The feeling of doing something in his own favor really causes a weird, contended vibe.

His eyelids are nearly closed, but his phone buzzling prevents him from resting. There is an incoming call from… Pastor Brown? What the heck?

“Robby Keene? Is that you?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good. Pack up your things. We are coming over to pick you up.”

“I beg your pardon?”, he presses the block of cold metal against his ear.

“We’re rescuing you, kid.”

The pastor hangs up. Robby gets up, puts a hoodie on, grabs his bag, stuffs it with all his few possessions, writes a suitable “fuck you” note to Kreese and goes out to the street. A pickup truck approaches him and the window goes down, allowing Robby to take a look at the person in the shotgun seat.

“Let’s go, boy.”

“Ok, so what’s the plan?”, Robby puts the seat belt on.

“We’re gonna drive you to a rehab clinic focused on violence issues. While you’re there, Bobby will say some good things in your behalf.”

“And what do I do when I’m ready to leave?”

“Since you’ll be clear of public opinion charges as a rehabilitated citizen, you’ll be free to do whatever you want, as long as you stay away of violence.”

Robby wonders how the clinic is like. Pastor Brown and his chatterbox friend, whose name is Jimmy, really want him to unlearn the dangerous, toxic junk that Kreese poured into his head.

“This is it.”

Pastor Brown opens the truck door and jumps, standing firmly on the ground. Robby admires the farm aesthetic while Jimmy reaches to the doorbell.

“Sorry for showing up this late.”

“It’s ok, but don’t ring the doorbell next time. Sheila just had twins and the situation is already hard as it is.”

“Anyways, this is Robby”, Brown pats the boy’s shoulder. “He ran away from Kreese.”

“My name is Mike Barnes”, the man offers Robby a handshake. “I’ll find you a bed and we talk more later, ok?”

Robby nods and Barnes points the counter to Brown as he leaves to the dorm building. The pastor finds a check-in form and a pen. He asks Robby for his personal data and writes a short paragraph about his troubled past – emphasizing Kreese’s influence.

“Thanks for helping me.”

“Anytime, son”, Brown goes for a hug. “Get revenge on them by being more than the child they left behind.”

“I’ll, sir.”

[jerisch]

King in the ring

Another amazing story I got from @writer-ofstuff​, featuring Derek of Teen Wolf.

______________________________________________________________

‘If you want to see your guy again then you will come alone to this address at midnight.'

Derek read over the note he found in Stiles dorm room, fuming that someone was dumb enough to take the younger man. The person had to know what Derek was since the note was addressed to him and not Stiles's father. Which made Derek believe the person behind this could possibly be a werewolf Hunter who is using Stiles as a way to get to Derek.

Derek had no idea who could be behind this, what werewolf hunting family they were from, if they were rogue ones, or if they even were hunters to begin with and not some other supernatural being. So Derek had no choice but to do as the inte instructed and come alone. Because when it came down to it Derek would always choose Stiles over himself if it meant the younger man he cared so much for was safe.

The address Derek was told to go to ended up being at a community auditorium where special events were often held at. An odd location to request to meet at, but Derek wasn't going to question it too much. He easily found a way inside, listening carefully for any indication of where the people and Stiles were at within the building.

Derek can hear talking in one large room, the room if he recalls right is one of the larger rooms in the auditorium where wreslting matches and leagues were often hosted there. Pushing the doors open, Derek is met with a large spotline shining on him when he steps through the doors. He winces his eyes. And brings his hand up to bloc, out the harsh light while music starts blaring within the room and a loud voice speaks.

"Our guest of honor has finally arrived. Please welcome to the ring Derek Hale! " a deep voice man spoke into the microphone. Cheers of men that filled the seats I'm the audience clapped and cheered. Derek startled at it all, wondering why he didn't sense this many people before he came into the room. Wondering if magic was behind this or something that made his werewolf senses not work as they should have.

Derek steps towards the ring, unsure what else to do. His face sat into an annoyed scowl as he climbed up into the ring and is met by a large man in the center of the ring.

He is taller than Derek by a good couple of inches. The man looks a few years older than Derek and wears only a pair of spandex orange and red designed shorts, boots and a wrestler mask that shares the same color scheme as the spandex shorts do. The man's face is obviously concealed by the mask, but Derek can see a blonde beard surrounding the man's mouth in the opening of the mask. The man has two different colored eyes, one blue eye and one green, he stares into Derek's eyes, smirking smugly at the werewolf.

"Seems like our guest has arrived for the special event tonight gentlemen." The man says, his voice sounding surprisingly smooth for such a big hairy brute that he is.

"Where is Stiles." Derek asks, cutting to the chase.

"Aww now where would be the fun in me just telling you so you can just end up retrieving him and leaving before we begin to have our match." The man says.

"You can call me Slayer by the way, in case you were wondering who I am."

"I don't care what your stupid stage name is or whatever the hell this is you have going on here, I want my boyfriend back. Now." Derek says coldly, allowing his eyes to glow alpha red to show he isn't joking around. Only the gesture doesn't seem to intimidate the big guy at all, in fact it seems to only make him seem more excited, his grin growing wider.

"Now this is why I sought you out and had to bring you here at whatever it took to do so. You got a real fire to your personality and I always wanted to see if I could take an alpha werewolf, especially one who comes from such a powerful bloodline of born werewolves." Slayer says.

"I won't fight you or play into your twisted act, I just want Stiles back." Derek replies, his voice growling, growing frustrated and annoyed with the spotlights, the loud music, and the chattering of the fans in the crowds.

"Well if you want your Stiles back then you have no choice but to play along in my special wrestling match. Which you must win by the way, as if it would be hard for you to do since you're a werewolf and I'm just a human after all." Slayer says, sounding like he is taunting Derek with that last part.

This didn't sit well with Derek, no doubt this guy was up to something. He wanted to fight a werewolf like Derek, and yet he mentioned how he was just a human and how the match should essentially be easy and in Derek's favor. Derek would have to keep his guard up, not be distracted at all since he had to do this stupid match in order to get Stiles freed from this weirdo wreslter.

"Fine, let's get this over with." Derek growls. He tosses off his leather jacket and takes a stance, only to be thrown something by Slayer.

"If you're going to do this then you're going to have to dress the part, Wolfman." Slayer says.

Derek looked down to see a purple wrestlers mask was what was thrown at him. He can smell the musk and sweat that dampened the mask which makes him disgusted by just holding it let alone putting such a nasty thing on his head.

"I am not wearing this disgusting thing." Derek tells Slayer who looks amused.

"Oh you will wear it Derek, because it is part of the act." Slayer tells him.

"Unless you don't want to free Stiles from where I have him hidden. Makes no difference to me since I would win either way." He adds smugly.

Derek's scowl darkens at the larger man. Steeling himself Derek puts the musky sweat stained and soaked mask over his head. He already feels humiliated and disgusted, but thankfully the crowd around them doesn't laugh nor mock him for wearing such a nasty thing, if anything they seem to be cheering louder than they were before Derek put the mask on.

"Let's get this over with." Derek says once he has the mask on over his head.

"Yes, let's give these men a show they'll love." Slayer says as the bell dings for the match to begin.

Derek had thought he would have this match done with already. He assumed he had the upper hand with him being a werewolf and Slayer being human, and yet the wrestler was keeping Derek on his toes, easily taking and evading Derek's attacks.

"What's wrong Wolfman, tired already?" Slayer taunts as he circles Derek and lunges at him. He catches Derek by surprise and his pulled into Slayer's arms and his face shoved into Slayer's thick hairy pits.

Derek is startled by such a move that he freezes up, feeling the sweat from Slayer's pits smear all over Derek's face. Derek is thankfully that he has the mask on so the mask absorbs some of the sweat, although he can still smell the sweaty musk from Slayer's pits. Unaware that the sweat and musk, along with what covered the mask when he put it on, has started to have an unique effect on the werewolf.

Derek feels himself getting warmer, sweat starting to form on his face under the mask. His body even sweats through his clothes, staining hid puts and the collar of his shirt.

Derek lunges forward this time, grabbing Slayer and then knocks him back into the jump of the ring. Derek's muscles expand in size as he moves, trading hits and exchanging moves with Slayer in the ring.

"Is that the best you got, Wolfman?" Slayer taunts.

"Not even close." Derek replies and moves towards him again.

The match goes on like that, the two trading hits, dodging moves, and they continue to trash talk one another. Derek's shirt ends up getting torn so he just finishes tearing it off his body, showing off how much muscle he has gained, now in equal size to Slayer. Derek's torso has also grown hairy. He absentmindedly scratches his furry upper body, his attention still focused on Slayer, determined to win this match for his fans, for Stiles he quickly corrects himself, wondering for a moment why he thought of himself having fans.

He charges and side steps out the way when Slayer throws an arm out to grab Derek to pin him down, only for Derek to do it to him.

"Looks like you're throwing the match in my favor." Derek whispers in Slayer's ear.

"You wish." Slayer tells him. Flipping their positions so now Slayer is on top of Derek.

"How predictable of you Wolfman." Slayer laughs, only to be bucked off and Derek to pin him to the floor of the ring. Derek grinds his erected bulge against Slayer's spandex covered ass. Earning a moan from the wrestling pro which piques Derek's interest, the werewolf feeling himself getting aroused.

"Like that?" Derek asks, poking his erected 13 inch cock into Slayer's ass once more. Slayer nods, and Derek's grin goes wider.

"Such a slut aren't you, in the ring and out of it." Derek muses, pulling down Slayer's spandex shorts, revealing Slayer's round hairy ass. Derek can smell how musky it smells already, it makes him eager to thrust his dick into the tight hairy asshole, so much so that he can't stop himself from doing it.

"Ooh fuck yeah." Slayer moans out loud, sounding just as eager as Derek feels as Derek starts to slowly prep Slayer's semi expanded asshole with his cock.

Each thrust Derek feels guilt that he is cheating on Stiles fade, instead growing more aroused and wanting to blow his load in such a hot piece of ass like Slayer's. More changes befall Derek. His legs grow longer till he is at equal height to the wrestler. His voice deepening as well, Derek feels his balls churning and with one more hard thrust he and Slayer both cum hard, the crowd cheering and echoing moans throughout it fills their ears, no doubt the men the audience getting off to the show Derek and Slayer had put on.

"Seems like I win Mike. Now let Stiles go" Derek says once he slides his dick out of his opponent's asshole.  He startles at knowing Slayer's name, Slayer standing up and removing his mask, revealing his handsome face for Derek to see. That and hearing how deep his voice is now also confuses him.

"Yeah, you win this time brother." Slayer, or Mike says. "But why would you want to free our new recruit?" Mike asks, he steps up to Derek, Derek realizing they're at eye level now. Before he can ask why that is Mike is kissing him. Derek freezes into the kiss, but then his mind relaxes and he returns it with just as much passion as Mike does.

Derek forgets himself, forgets being who he was before he came here with the intentions of helping Stiles. Now Derek, Dean as he thinks of himself now. Recalls his new life, being a pro wrestling duo with his twin brother Mike. Mike, known as the Slayer, and Dean the Wolfman, together they make up the team Wolfman Slayer.

Derek removes his mask after the two twin brothers kiss each other. Revealing his face looks the same as Mike's. The two sharing the same short spiky blonde hair, the same trimmed beard along their angular and square jawline and cheeks.

The only differences between them is their eyes Derek's eyes remain the same hazel color they were from before, Dean being hairier than Mike, and his voice much more deeper than Mike's as well.

"You're right brother." Dean says. "Not sure what I was thinking there in wanting to free him. He will make a hot wrestler for our league." Derek says, a grin on his face.

After they wrap up the show and send the crowd home Dean and Mike head to the locker rooms, where they find the young man Mike too. Stiles is bound by old jockstraps, one even forced into his mouth which Dean gives his brother a questioning look.

"What? He wouldn't stop talking so I had to get him to shut up." Mike shrugs.

Dean huffs out an amused laugh and approaches Stiles, who seems to react by trying to break free of his restraints.

"Just relax my guy, you're going to enjoy this as much as we are." Dean tells him, not recognizing that this was a man he once loved and cared about when he was is old self, now all Dean wants to do is use his and his brother's special gift and turn Stiles into another dumb brute wreslter they can use in their wrestling league.

Later as the two twins walk out, a 6'5" brick wall of a man walks out behind them, Tank as he is called in the ring and out it, smiles dim wittedly at his two friends and bosses before taking his leave to hit the gym, with Dean following behind him, Mike however looking at the two as they leave the locker room, pleased with his work in creating two new wrestlers for him to use and gaining a twin. He is eager to see how they both do when they have a real wrestler league when Mike finishes transforming more men that the two once knew before Mike transformed them.