#these fics are getting progressively longer

[indiestsnake]

okay. for real this time. Major In Stars and Time spoilers for act 3 and beyond. To my wonderful friends playing this masterpiece, to no further. To potential readers, buckle up. This gets long ._.

I thought this game was done with causing me symptoms of emotional exhaustion and stress overload. I was wrong.

Acts 5 and 6 of this game caused the most emotion a video game has ever inflicted on me. Like- the tightness in my chest was an emotion I can only describe as grief. Genuine grief. I felt like I needed to sob for most of act six, for multiple reasons.

Let’s start at the fuckin transition I guess!!!!!!!!!! Siffrin finally thinks they figured it out, and they haven’t. The genuine fear I felt in the cutscene with Euphrasie, the realization that… that this was it, Siffrin was simply stuck. I believed it. I could not find a way to break my suspension of disbelief. I fully, genuinely could not believe that this game had a happy ending. I did not know this game only had one ending, but even if I did, it… I don’t think it would’ve done anything.

The following monologue was the usual terrifying, the game using its informal dialogue to reap horrific subversive effects as usual. Of course it saved some tricks for this moment, like taking away control of when the dialogue progressed. Watching Siffrin snap so thoroughly, lose all his hope and cling to the thought of defeating the king alone because he doesn’t know what else to do, it… it really breaks you.

So. Now that the game has maximized my potential sympathy for Siffrin. And torn my empathetic heart to shreds. It immediately turns on a heel and makes me hate them within three conversations. The things they say to Mira, Odile, Bonnie, Isa, made me so thoroughly angry. I would not blame Odile for actually harming him. I would not blame Mira if she never spoke to him again. I would not blame Bonnie for never wanting to even think about him again. And I would not blame Isa if he no longer loved Siffrin.

I am a person who believes in redemption. In second chances. The readers of my fics know this well. But sadly, actions have to have consequences. And the actions Siffrin takes should have lost him his friends, his family, forever. Even in his circumstances. They had no reason to keep caring.

So then, reeling from the genuine sense of loss and grief and hate and despair, Siffrin nicks the orbs and goes in alone. Through about, what, 20-30 minutes of gameplay, this tension persists. The game didn’t even need to barrage me with monologues, just show those conversations of the family Siffrin left, tear apart the house and the menus and the game till it was barely recognizable. Siffrin. The Lost One, says his profile. Memory of emptiness. Rock, paper, scissors. It’s so dry. So dull. So full of despair and pain and fear and a question of what he could ever do to deserve this hell. He can’t go back. He cannot find the hope or will or anything to go through with it, to follow the script. So even if this does break the loop. What then? He is left with a world where the people he loves most despise him.

Then finally, he reaches the king.

The fight is almost dull. Simplistic. Full of pain. Siffrin does not need a shield to withstand the vision of the future. Because the world they live in cannot get any worse. Nothing scares him more than the hell he now exists in.

Then, he begins to freeze. The king slows him down. And he falls asleep.

The following sequence was just… indescribable. The sadness variant of him, Mal du Pays. French for “homesickness”. Just a simple drawing of Siffrin. The music. The dialogue. The words that come from its mouth. From the party’s mouths. Siffrin tries to say it’s fake. Isabeau’s segment convinces him it’s not.

I didn’t even realize what was happening till it flashed forward and gripped the screen by the face.

He was turning into a sadness.

The frame of his sadness gripping the screen, like many of ISAT’s frames, is something I can’t manage to forget. The cloak and the face and the way it fills the screen so suddenly and finally speaks as itself, not as Siffrin’s party. And he can’t fight it. They just can’t. The universe leads, but he is tired. And now, he can rest. If he just lets go.

In that moment, I was staring at a black screen, begging, pleading for the credits not to roll.

And then he wakes up.

Because his friends are back.

Despite what he said and did, they knew he didn’t mean it. And if he did, they didn’t care. It was clear something was wrong, and they were determined to fix it. Because they were his friends.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a game manage to convey self-hatred so convincingly that I, the player, began to hate my character in a way their friends could not. In fact, I was not aware that was a thing that could happen.

I don’t even know how to express the feelings this give me coherently. It feels like this game snatched away one of my closest moral beliefs only to clothesline me with said belief so I learned it even harder. What Siffrin did was not unforgivable. But it truly convinced me that it was.

So of that when all hope seemed truly, truly lost. It pulled the basic trope of “your friends come help when you thought you were alone”. And it nearly knocked me out of my chair.

First off, get fucked king. Second off, happy for you king.

And then the walk to Euphrasie. I was mixed with giddy glee and unending dread for this whole thing. Isa helps Sif walk while Bonnie holds their hand. Color exists again but only red and oh god the world is ending. Euphrasie is still broken oh god please no don’t send me back don’t take this from me please no no no no WAM REVERSE BOSS FIGHT

Cue that scene. I wasn’t exactly happy that my only option aside from hurting my friends was hurting myself. But it did not take long for me to start groaning in annoyance when Mira healed me.

And then. Against all odds. Siffrin breaks. As does the text formatting as the party literally claws at the text box edges to yell at him.

They fall. Hands clasped together. And he tells them his wish. That he just wants to stay with them.

Of course. That’s all he ever wanted.

And oh god, oh thank every deity, that’s all they want too.

And he finally gets a god-damn motherfucking son of a bitch eye-losing tear-jerking MOTHER FUCKING HUG

and damn it was a good one. poor guy was all squimshed. lost his hat too

the rest of the dialogue is just. amazing. I was gigging and smiling and shaking and vibrating with joy before I even finished Mirabelle’s segment. Walking to Bonnie was when I realized it felt like I wanted to cry. During Bonnie’s dialogue was when I almost did cry. Then Odile. Who I obviously asked for the long version of her theory and she was very helpful for explaining all the stuff. and then.

Isabeau.

oh. my. fucking. god.

the joy I felt when he said it. The leap I leapt, ungracefully dancing over to my bed and mouthing screams of joy. I genuinely just collapsed and writhed around like a fish out of water in happiness. You know how some folk flap their hands to stim? Yeah, imagine that but my whole body. I was so unbelievably happy. I don’t know how a game did this much to me.

The rest of the dialogue was wonderful too. Sif apologized for everything, even the optional events, even admitted the bad touch event. And of course. Isa freaked the fuck out. Because oh my god Sif kissed him. And then when Sif clarifies that it was not a good kiss. He just thinks for a moment like. “…………. Maybe u just need more practice!!! ^^” and it was at that point Siffrin and Isabeau plushies manifested in my hands and I mashed their faces together like barbie dolls

Mira doesn’t want self-spoilers and thats hilarious. Bonnie has no fucken clue what’s going on but she knows Sif was hungry sick and at school so all is well. Odile admits she linguine’s him and yes I fucking love that joke. SIF’S HOME COUNTRY MIFHT APPEAR IN THE DISTANCE????? AND ISA AND SIF ARE GOING ON A FUCKING DATE

and it was at this point I saved my progress, crossed my heart, and prayed Euphrasie would not send me back.

And she didn’t.

oh, god, this game…

welp. this post is two hours in the making. dunno if any of this is coherent but I think if you’ve played isat you get it. thank you to everyone who’s been blowing up my liveposts recently!!! it’s been cool to see the fandom giggle evilly at my suffering :3

tho my contributions to the Isat fandom do not end here. the fic is imminent. I could not stop it if I wanted too. If you couldn’t tell by the essay you just read.

thank you for reading this far if you somehow did!!!! hope you enjoyed my nonsensical babbling. I’m gonna go pass out. have a good day!!!!!!! .3

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia

Sorry is this ask is bothersome but I need some advice.

I while ago I was going through a really bad time mentally but found solace in a fandom. I became friends with a person that I met in a particular fandom and they encouraged me to get into fanfiction and it really helped my mental health as a form of escapism.

After about a year I took the plunge into writing my own fanfics for the fandom and at first they were well received. But then a gender swapped the characters.

For context- in this fandom most of the characters are male and almost all the fanfics available are canon compliant in this regard and I so I wanted to explore an au where all the characters were women instead. I posted a few chapters and was excited for feedback but then my friend from the fandom saw my new fic and messaged me telling me to take it down because it was problematic.

I asked them to explain why and they said that changing canon like that just for the "fun" of it wasn't ok and that if I'm going to "mess around with the characters identities" then I should make them trans instead.

I told her I wasn't comfortable making the characters trans because I myself am not trans and don't feel like I am educated enough to write about gender identities/experiences that I haven't gone through and I don't want to accidentally write something disrespectful.

My friend got back to me and said that take was even more problematic. I asked her to explain further because I was really confused by this point but she didn't get back to me.

A few days later I found out she had told all the people in the discord we were in together that I was being problematic regarding canon and I'm guessing she also went to my bookmarks and sent screenshots to everyone of the "problematic" ships and fics I like??

And now I'm getting hateful messages from people who used to be my friends in the fandom and I don't know what to do.

Should I make the characters male again like they are in canon? Or take the fic down altogether?

Hi anon,

So the short answer is:

You can write genderbending. Every fic is problematic somehow to different people and audiences. Trans people don't all agree on genderbending so you're not going to get a single "correct" answer. Don't take down the fic unless you want to. Don't change the fic unless you want to. Get some better friends. It's worth educating yourself further about this subject.

The longer answer is behind the Read More:

Genderbending is complicated and nuanced and there's a ton of discussion about it. I highly recommend you go somewhere like FanLore to check that out. Especially the further reading section, to see multiple sides of the discussion to then decide how you feel.

There are trans people who love cis genderbends. There are trans people who hate them. There are trans people who don't think they should exist. There are trans people who don't give a shit. There are trans people who want more to exist. There are trans people who think only trans people should be allowed to write any kind of genderbend. There are trans people who think no trans person should ever want to write cis genderbend.

My perspective (as a trans person) is closest to this archived Tumblr post linked here.

With this quote from mercurialmalcontent:

Changing a character to the ‘opposite’ cis gender is a very different thing than making them trans or nonbinary. Insisting that people only change characters to trans is also really damn invalidating, because it implies that being trans is interchangable with being cis. Whoopsie doodle!

And then the entire response from roachpatrol, especially:

so like. people now reducing the issue to ‘cis people are gross and hate trans people’ is pretty ridiculous. it ignores basically twenty years of women questioning, confronting and then dismantling the de-facto heteronormative, exploitative male gaze in order to create the radically progressive fandom atmosphere as we know it today on tumblr. 

And then also this from curriebelle:

there’s nothing inherently transphobic about art that explores gender - quite the opposite, I think - and that’s what genderbends are about. It can be hugelybeneficial to imagine male characters as female in order to explore roles that aren’t traditionally given to women

~

I think the main thing is that in fandom, many trans people have been forced to confront how they feel about genderbends (or cis swaps), whereas many cis people never have to think about it due to cis privilege. That doesn't mean writing it is bad by default, it doesn't mean fics that feature it shouldn't exist, and it doesn't mean problematic fanfiction is bad either. Like I said, everything is problematic to someone.

What actually bothers me the most is that people who you think of as "friends" are trying to police you in this way. Obviously I don't know the full story or the content of the fic, so maybe there's greater context going on that I'm missing. But on the surface, genderbends aren't inherently transphobic, even if some trans people don't like them, or feel dysphoria over them existing.

Ultimately genderbends aren't also often about the trans experience. It's really weird for your friends to assume that writing a story about a bunch of cis women, and a bunch of trans women is going to be exactly the same, or that one is inherently "better" than the other. Trans women experience some different issues (depending on the world), and the stories are likely to have different elements to them. And you're right, not feeling comfortable telling a trans story when you're a cis person wanting to write about cis women does actually make a lot of sense. That doesn't mean you can't do it, but it does make it clear why you didn't do it.

Anon, a friend who is quick to tell a whole bunch of people on a Discord server that you're writing a fic with content they don't like is not a friend, let alone a good friend. They might have once been very caring, but their response here indicates they're putting up a chance to seem righteous and 'moral' above actually caring about you or what you have to say. Especially in a situation where honestly a lot of trans people don't agree with each other, but we all mostly agree not to be dicks to people who write this stuff and to just live and let live.

(Also, trans people can write trans fic that other trans folk feel is transphobic! Something that heals and helps one person, hurts another, that's why the rule in fiction for things like this is very much: "don't like, don't read" and also: learn about it, do some research into it, but you don't have to morally justify what you like in fiction and fiction is the place to write this stuff - it is literally pure fantasy. Heck, some trans people love cis swaps precisely because it's a cis swap instead of a specifically trans narrative, the same reason some trans people hate them. We're not all a monolith with one opinion. Thank god).

Going into your bookmarks to reveal the 'problematic' things you like to a bunch of randos screams of anti-nonsense, people who judge other people's morals based off the fiction they enjoy. Folks like this think it's okay to humiliate, degrade and abuse people over what they enjoy in fiction.

Honestly, if it were me, I'd block these people. Trans people aren't magically free from being abusive shitheads, just like everyone else.

Your friend may have been a friend once, but what they're doing now is just shitty. Ironically, it's also pretty transphobic to the trans people who love and write cis swap and also the trans people who love and read it.

[ms--lobotomy]

I heard some of you were looking for Kyle. Who am I if not a provider?

Summary: Abbadon wants a companion for the night.

Word Count: 1461

Content Warnings: General 40kness, smut, once my Catholic guilt arc is over it’s over for all of you

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You looked out of the window of your cell. It was the one comfort you had here, and the view was almost beautiful. Silent columns of lightning stretched out between magenta clouds, churning away faster than they ever could on any planet. Iron bars marred the view somewhat, but you had to take what you could get in this strange land. The rest of your cell was pitifully dreary, with a curtain closing off what resembled a restroom and a slab of… something that resembled a bed. You chose not to look at those parts. At least, not now.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were heavy and loud, announcing the presence of maybe two or three members of the Black Legion. You barely turned your head from the window before they fiddled with the keys to your cell, almost ripping the bars off of each other. You recognized one’s speech in Low Gothic, but it took you a few moments to really process it.

“The Despoiler wants a word with you.”

You tensed up. They surely couldn’t mean… No matter. You put one foot in front of the other and joined the three hulking men outside your cell. One of them started to walk off, and another prodded you with his chainsword.

“Move.”

You had no choice but to follow these strange men through the halls of the base. You lost track of where you were early on, going into new and uncharted areas of the base. Granted, you’d only ever seen the prison, so this was not a failing of your navigational skills. You hadn’t time to marvel at the interior despite being confined to your cell for what felt like weeks, you and your captors were walking too fast. You had to slightly jog to keep up with them.

Soon enough, you were upon a large door. You ran your fingers along the intricate woodwork, not having felt varnished wood in ages. Two of those strange men looked down at you as you lowered your hand. Another one turned on his vox machine.

“She’s here,” he said, stepping back from the door. The others did so as well, prompting you to do the same.

After a few moments, the door clicked open. You beheld a man taller than the three around you, the first without a helmet that you’d seen in a long while. He had a long top knot at the top of his head, and his eyes bored into you, unreadable. You immediately looked away, trying not to shake in your poorly put together shoes.

“Leave,” he said as the three behind you turned tail and left, muttering to one another.

He watched them as they left before turning his gaze back to you. “You can come in, you know.”

You looked up at him and slowly walked into the room. It must be his private chambers; it was filled with ornate things that you couldn’t have even dreamed of while in your cell. Your eyes darted from the paintings on the wall to the table and chairs built for someone his size. He walked towards the bed, sitting on it as it slightly gave way underneath him. “Come,” he said, scooting over slightly.

“Why do you bring me here?” you asked, rubbing your upper arm with your hand.

He smirked. “I just wanted a bit of company tonight.” He called your name. It was a bit strange on his lips, but it was the first time someone had referred to you by name instead of number.

Was it night? It was impossibly hard to tell in this space between space. You found yourself walking towards the bed and sitting on it next to him as he took his gauntlets off, then his pauldrons, then the rest of the armor adorning his arms. You couldn’t help but notice rippling muscles as your heart beat quicker in your chest.

“Not like I have a choice in the matter,” you said after a moment.

He chuckled. “If you do not wish to be here, I could grab another.”

“No-“ you interjected before you could stop yourself.

He continued taking off his armor, pulling his breastplate over his head before casting it aside. “Good,” he said. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and you tensed up yet again.

“I will not hurt you, unless that is something you desire.”

You looked up at him. He was looking down at you with… reverence, almost. You felt your face go warm as he took your chin in his hand. His grip was firm, but you could tell that he was holding back.

He let go and leaned down to take off his lower armor, and you watched intently as pieces fell to the floor, softly clanking against other pieces. He looked down at you and smirked once he was finished. It was then when he leaned in for a kiss, pressing against soft skin. You were taken aback for a minute before you reciprocated. He grabbed your hips and turned the rest of you to face him, your legs resting against his waist.

He brushed the sides of your shirt up, fabric gathering underneath his hands. You let out a soft moan before freezing, and he pulled away.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

You slowly nodded. He went in for a kiss again, this time biting your bottom lip. You squeaked, grasping for his body glove. You felt him chuckle against you, hands moving underneath your shirt up your back. He pulled away again, his hands moving to your thigh.

“Take it off,” he barked.

Without hesitation, you pulled your shirt over your head. He looked down at you for a moment, running a hand over your body.

“Good girl,” he said, pressing you down onto the bed before planting his teeth on your collarbone. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it was going to leave a mark. You let out another high-pitched squeak, and he made another mark even lower. When he had his fill, he went down to your breast and took your nipple in his teeth.

“Abbadon…” you moaned as he bit you there. That was also going to leave a mark.

“What is it?” he asked before moving to your other side to do the same thing. You yelped, your fingers pressing into his back as he trailed lower. He was kneeling before you when he made his way between your legs, pulling your shoes and pants off and parting your legs with ease. He began to feast, eliciting soft cries from you. He reached places you thought someone could never reach, and before long, you came hard on him.

He pulled away, fiddling with the zipper on his body glove before taking it all off. You looked at him in awe before he pinned you down again, your fingers interlocking with his. He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he rubbed himself against you and you looked up at him, pleading.

“You will have to beg for it,” he said, grazing himself against you.

“Please…” you murmured. “Please put yourself in me. I want you.”

“More than anything you’ve ever wanted?”

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

He put himself in, and you cried out. “You are taking me so well,” he said as he slid in further. You couldn’t form any cohesive sentences in response, so you let yourself cry out. He slid himself in to the hilt and stayed there for a minute, watching your face scrunch up and listening to your little yelps before he pulled himself out to do it all again. He started to go faster, and you felt your eyes rolling back. Here you were, stark naked, stretched out over him.

You came a second time, much more loudly and violently than the first. Abbadon smirked above you, victorious. His hands moved to your wrists as he kept going, and soon you realized how much stamina was granted to an Astartes. He kept you up long into the night before he started to speed up one last time. You were loud, and he stuck a few fingers in your mouth. He grunted something in his Cthonian tongue before he shot his load into you, once, twice, then a third time.

Liquid leaked out of you as he pulled himself out of you for the last time and shifted you fully onto the bed. He held you close to him. You relaxed into his hold as he ran a hand through your hair.

“You will not have to spend another day rotting in that cell,” he said.

You closed your eyes and sleep soon took hold of you. You slept better than you had in weeks.

@kit-williams

[rosemaidenvixen]

Announcing this year's Halloween special,

New England 1624

Life in the small settlement of Arcadia is harsh, especially so for the midwife's son and the girl with a Catholic background. The land is wild and strange and the rules of their town strict, but they find comfort and strength in each other, carving out a means of living by any way they can.

Then the man most well known in the colonies for his ability to root out witchcraft and devilry travels to Arcadia. And when a series of misfortunes strike, putting the very survival of the town at stake, he's quick to offer an explanation.

A witch.

Tensions run high and accusations are on everyone's lips. It isn't long until all the town is on the hunt for a witch, leaving the two outcasts to use every bit of their wits and wiles to try and keep themselves and their loved ones safe.

But the witch hunters are ruthless, determined to purge the evil from Arcadia by any means necessary. And in their fanatical quest to eradicate evil, these witch hunters may create the very thing they seek to destroy.

Coming to Ao3 and tumblr October 1st.

Witch Hunter

[coffeebanana]

i love how optimistic i am when outlining long fics it's like "oh wow if i just plan this all out and then Follow. The. Plan!! it will totally be SO EASY. i mean i can have it all done so quickly!"

...ignoring the fact that this has never once happened 😂

[starsoforionwrites]

+1651 words

struggling quite a lot still, and feeling utterly wretched about it. that said, I did get some words down tonight so that's good? overall I'm at 234k words now, but eighth year on is still very patchy and uneven. i'm trying to get into a consistent writing habit again, but every time I look at the page it's just a terrifying blinking cursor and then I collapse in on myself lol

[redjayson]

Shen Qingqiu should never have come to Jinlan City. He should have listened to his doctor, sat his ass down, and stayed at the sect. But no! He decided it would be interesting to investigate the creepy plague, ignore the small child determinedly trying to send them away, and get immediately infected by who- or whatever the carrier of the plague is! As if that weren’t enough, when he and Gongyi Xiao split up to investigate the brothel, the first door Shen Qingqiu opens reveals not only the body of the woman who died here, but also releases a burst of something—dust? Pollen? A powdery makeup, even?—directly in Shen Qingqiu’s face.

or: Shen Qingqiu, Secret Omega Extraordinaire, has finally burned through all his luck. Regarding that particular secret, at least.

I habitually work on a lot of different fics at once, and this one is the lucky fic to have its turn right now

[lafamilledelioncourt]

When Claudia is channeling the hateful ass spirit of her fathers... it's not gonna end well but an A for effort babygirl.

catch up on ADOC before the new chapter here

[nostalgia-tblr]

i just want to write some kind of fucked up shit and then finish it and post it and then feel i've done something😭

[pinwheelwhirl]

spent all day cycling between refreshing tumblr, trying to edit the fic i found buried in my tumblr drafts, and working on a drawing. laptop screen make head hurty

[radarsteddybear]

🤪

(I'll probably have to go back and punch up the preceding scene tomorrow, but in the meantime, we're working on making it to the finish line.)

[jaguarys]

Coughs.

[creativenicocorner]

Hey all!

Just wanted to mention the rest of my May and June is going to be very busy for me. Which means there'll be a significant delay in getting ch 10 out of Glow Worms or rather: In the Depths of the Safflower Hills

Thank you for your patience!

Best wishes, Nico ___〆(・∀・)♡

[weresilver]

My, my, looks who's alive! Another fic of mine has been consuming my thoughts. I just finished the first chapter for that one at a little over 6k words. Fun stuff. I want to post that one for Halloween (though with the Steddie big bang, who knows), but we'll see. I might hold off on that one and try an focus on this one once more? We'll see. For now, enjoy! Oh, if the @ tags don't work, or if you just don't want to be tagged like that, I'll also be using the "Pin a String fic" tag :)

[Part 1] – [Part 11] – [Part 13]

@madaboutmunson @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dijkstraspath @spectrum-spectre @epiclazershark @redheadchimechild @steddie-there @gayngerthings @manda-panda-monium @goodolefashionedloverboi

Pin a String to My Chest – 12

The reunion

Wayne had been coming to work as usual during the week Eddie was missing, confident that he'd show up fine, returning from an improvised trip he and the older boys from the club decided to go on. Nevermind the fact that Eddie hadn't called; he'd never failed to let Wayne know where he was before.

He knew Eddie wouldn't have killed that girl, maybe someone just broke into their trailer—

A full week after finding her body in the trailer, he got a call from the hospital, saying that Eddie had been admitted during the night. He spent the rest of that day as well as the night there. The next morning, the press announced his kid's innocence — to some people's surprise, apparently, if the nonsensical noise he heard from the TV was anything to go by.

They went on about a man called Peter Ballard, obsessed with the Creel murders and determined to recreate them. He chose their targets, stalked them, and killed them a few days later. Chrissy Cunningham happened to be most vulnerable when she decided to reconnect with an old middle school acquaintance.

Wayne didn't pay much attention to the TV after that. He made the calls he had to in order to stay with Eddie in the hospital, but he'd still have to work some nights. Not many, but some.

He met the people who claimed to have helped Eddie, and despite the insane story they all told him, he found he believed them. Hopper coming back from the dead — or wherever he was taken to, he supposed — and confirming it all helped. A little.

The Henderson kid was there as often as he could, often doing his homework next to Eddie's bed and talking about it as if Eddie would reply to him at any moment, tired of all the science talk. Wayne worried about the kid, but he didn't know what to tell him, especially not when the first thing he did was hand over Eddie's necklace.

Dustin was there. With him, the Wheeler girl had said. Wayne couldn't imagine what that must have been like.

Eddie had been admitted ten days ago. This was the third night Wayne had to go to work since then. He'd been doing his best to ignore the guilty looks as much as the disbelieving ones, and so far, no one had tried talking about it all in his vicinity. Now, he knew people were talking elsewhere, but as long as he didn't hear it, it should be fine.

Wayne shouldn't be here. He knew that, his coworkers knew that, his boss knew that, but apparently he didn't have a choice.

The call came close to 4 am, about two hours before the end of his shift. One of the supervisors, a man he could never remember the name of given how rarely he saw him, called out for him, saying there was someone on the phone.

"It's from Hawkins General," he clarified softly once Wayne was close enough. "Didn't say much, but I assume it's about your nephew."

Wayne was quick to thank him and walk into the office. He picked up the phone with a deep breath.

"Hello? This is Wayne Munson."

"Mr. Munson," a woman answered, sounding too chirpy for the hour. "It's Linda." Right, Eddie's nurse every other night. She was one of the nicest ones he'd met so far, always a kind word and gentle touches where his nephew was concerned. "You might want to get here soon, Eddie just woke up."

She had promised to call him if anything happened, personally. Wayne's heart was racing, at first for the fact she was calling at all, but then for the fact that Eddie had woken up. She spoke some more, though he wasn't sure he absorbed much of it.

He hung up with a promise to be there as soon as possible. He spoke briefly to his supervisor before the man was waving him off.

"Just go, I got this."

He never drove so quickly in his life.

Linda was waiting for him at the front desk, her smile widening when she saw the state he arrived in.

"I told you he was tired, Mr. Munson," she said, turning to walk further into the hospital without preambles. "You could have taken your time driving."

Wayne shook his head even though she couldn't see it. "You said he asked for me? No way in hell I'm keepin' him waiting."

Linda didn't try making small talk after that, leading the way to Eddie's room. Not that Wayne needed directions after spending most of the last ten days here, but the sentiment was nice.

She opened the door gently, letting Wayne step in first. Eddie seemed to be asleep, but it was clear he had woken up at some point; the thin blanket covered only half of his uninjured leg, the other slightly elevated with a pillow. It looked like Eddie had tried to move around. His left arm was in a sling, probably to keep him from stretching the wound on his chest and shoulder.

"Let me know if you need anything," Linda said from the door.

Wayne nodded absently as she closed the door. He moved the chair closer to Eddie's bed, the scraping noise enough to make his nephew's face scrunch up.

"Hey, kid." He kept his voice soft, not wanting to disturb Eddie if he wasn't awake but letting him know he was there just in case.

"Wayne?"

God, the kid's voice was rough. He gently patted Eddie's forearm, avoiding the bandages, and kept his hand there.

Eddie's eyes fluttered open, face creasing in drowsiness and confusion. "You…?"

"I'm here, Eddie," he reassured. He was probably smiling a little too wide for what Eddie was used to, but he didn't really care. Wayne helped him drink some water from a cup left on his bedside before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Eddie moved to shrug a little, but grimaced in pain. "Achy," he said, with a scrunched up expression that told the discomfort was a little deeper than that. "What happened?"

Wayne shook his head. There wasn't much point in talking about it when Eddie looked on the verge of sleep once more. If Eddie had actually forgotten the circumstances of his injuries, he guessed having the rest of his little monster slaying group around would help more than Wayne talking about it could.

"We'll talk when I'm sure you won't forget it."

Eddie hummed, nodding slowly. "Stayin'?" He asked, slipping into an accent that didn't come out often. His eyes slipped close, head slightly turned to him. "Missed you."

"I missed you too, kid." He squeezed the arm he was still holding. "I'm not goin' anywhere, go back to sleep."

Wayne made himself as comfortable in the hospital chair as he could, not once letting go of his nephew. The kid seemed relaxed, though that might be the work of the painkillers; Wayne had been told the state Eddie arrived in, and he guessed the painkillers would be needed for a while.

Minutes passed in silence, as Wayne watched Eddie breathe. It had become routine, making sure his nephew was still there. It was because of that routine that Wayne saw his face contorting into a frown right before he groaned.

"Eddie?" He asked, leaning closer to him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Thinkin'," he mumbled, slurring with sleep. "Not goin' to the concert next week, huh?"

"That's, uh, that's tomorrow, actually." Eddie let out a questioning noise that sounded awfully confused. "It's…" He trailed off, glancing backwards at the clock on the wall. "It's almost 5 am on April 7th, kid."

Eddie was staring at him, confusion clear in his eyes despite the low light. He looked away after a moment, turning his gaze forward.

"Oh," he whispered. He took a deep breath — as deep as he could, all things considered. "Okay."

Wayne couldn't help but raise a brow at his non-reaction. Eddie had been excited for this concert for weeks, going on rants about the concert whenever he lay eyes on the tickets that Wayne was safekeeping. Metallica and Ozzy. Eddie had learned a song or another from one of them, Wayne couldn't tell which one. He'd spent so much time practicing it…

"Don't look at me like that," Eddie mumbled, frowning. "Can't do shit about it now." He pulled his arm free of Wayne's hold and slowly rubbed his eyes. "Should've just—"

"Not been attacked?"

Eddie froze. So he did remember. He slowly turned to look at Wayne, who wanted to grimace as the movement seemed to stretch the bandage on Eddie's neck. His eyes were wide, looking afraid in a way Wayne hadn't seen since Lauren brought him over at 7 years old.

"I—I didn't…" His breathing picked up, and his hand pressed against the bandage on his chest. "I didn't do it." He shook his head, grimacing. "I wouldn't—"

I wouldn't hurt them.

Eddie couldn't finish his sentence, but the desperation in his eyes made it clear what he wanted to say. Wayne knew he didn't do it, that he would never hurt anyone. He knew who the actual murderer was.

"Eddie, son," he grabbed his hand, one of the few areas free of bandages. "I know, okay?" Eddie's gaze was fleeting between his eyes, looking for a catch he wouldn't find. "I need you to breathe, Eddie, as deep as you can."

It took a couple of minutes and many repeated words before Eddie was breathing easily once more. He was frowning, clenching his hand around Wayne's fingers.

"There you are," Wayne said softly. "Your new gaggle of friends made sure I knew what was going on."

Eddie's expression didn't change, but he nodded. "You… You believe 'em?"

"Got no reason not to." He shrugged. "Hopper coming back from wherever he was sure helped."

Eddie opened his mouth to question it, most likely, but all that came out was a tired sigh. "Sure, whatever."

Chuckling, Wayne patted Eddie's head, making a bigger mess of the kid's hair. He was sure that Eddie would demand a wash soon.

"Get some rest, son, I'll be here."

Eddie hummed and, surprisingly obedient, closed his eyes. He moved a little to adjust himself on the bed and was out almost as soon as he got comfortable.

It wasn't long before Wayne fell asleep as well, more tired than he'd realized after a nearly full shift.

[solar-halos]

WiP title game - How about: 3. Untitled Document (lol)

hi first of all thank you for this ask and second of all i’m so sorry it took me this long to answer it 😭😭 i just didn’t know what to say

anyway, untitled document 3 is the odesta college au!! i’m trying to think of something new to say about it so i’m just going to list off a series of fun facts that are probably only fun to me lol

• annie is a pisces (a spicy pisces if u will…) (that is an olivia rodrigo reference)

• she and johanna met in the 7th grade. johanna said something vaguely insulting to her so annie said something hugely insulting back and that kicked off the start of a forever friendship

• finnick is a child of divorce (daddy issues edition) so he gets very happy whenever people say he looks like his mom

• his favorite holiday is halloween

[clenastia]

i dont know why the running joke of this chapter is kakashi fearing for his kidneys. where did that come from. WHY did that come from.

i should probably cut that in editing it's a little ridiculous.

except it makes me giggle every time so maybe i should leave it there.