#they look like something outta Little Nightmares though

[angrybatart]

Practice drawing of the new Lethal Company monster, AND I MADE HIM LOOK ADORABLE???

Lethal Company Butlers start out passively sweeping the floors of whatever map they spawn on...so long as you're in a group. The second you're caught alone with one, they'll put away the broom, pull out a knife, and sprint after you. (Obviously to kill you.) If you catch up with a friend or two, they'll replace their weapon with the broom and resume sweeping.

Hitting them with a sign or shovel will turn them aggressive, regardless of how many employees are in the room. (Can you blame them? You're being a dick.) And standing too close will cause them to attempt to stab you until you're out of their personal space. Then resume sweeping. Again, regardless of how many employees are present.

I can imagine SOOOOO many funny scenarios with these guys.

[o-sachi]

Rose Colored Boy - Punk Rock Band AU

ଳ Punk Rock Band AU! Michael Kaiser Route - older brother's best friend ଳ tags; lead guitarist! kaiser, isagi's sis! reader, college au, fluff, afab reader, no y/n

Part One: Still Into You 5.7k words

There was something alluring about starting from a clean slate. Without any threads of the past holding you down, it makes it feel as if you could be anyone and that you could do anything. That’s exactly what this new chapter of your life has to offer. You were certain that college would be the ultimate turning point.

It’s not like you had any bad habits—unless being stuck in your safety bubble would be considered one. By all means, you were comfortable with how your life was. But whenever your brother showed you how fun his life at college was, your desire for the preconcerted way of living was slowly being chipped away. 

Perhaps the unconscious longing for a different—more thrilling life—was what determined you to change your ways. But then again, the past cannot be totally left behind. It’ll always find a way to worm itself in the present.

That worm in your life happened to be your brother’s little punk rock band.

Well… to be fair, they’re not as little as they used to be when they started in their high school years. You’ve heard the talk around the campus, but DEVOUR’s a pretty big deal now. And that’s exactly the problem. It would have been fine if it was just your brother—no way of avoiding him. But the rest of the band? You had history with them and it was highly likely that you’d have to encounter them A LOT.

Of course, there was also the thing about him.

Who would’ve known they would cause you more problems than one? When Yoichi dropped the bomb that you’d be staying with him at his studio apartment it already gave you a huge headache. But now that you were suffering the consequences of sleeping in the room next to their designated band practice location—this was more than a mere headache. It was a real fucking nightmare.

If Yoichi thought he could placate you by soundproofing the practice room, well, he’s dead wrong. You could still hear the music, though faintly. But the real issue was all the thumping. As a light sleeper, it was nothing short of torture for you. 

Although, it did come as a shock when the disturbance eventually died down. You were expecting them to go at it until the wee hours of the morning. But it was good to know that they still had some sense in them. Checking your phone on the nightstand, it was around 11 PM. Not too bad.

You close your eyes and let sleep overcome you. Lately, your dreams have been about college. Even your subconscious was brimming with excitement. Tonight was supposed to be one of those dream-filled-deep-sleep kind of nights. But not even an hour later, you were awoken in the worst way possible.

You were sure something made its way in your room because how else would you explain the thing that just slammed into you—knocking the fucking air outta your lungs? You didn’t even stir when the door open and closed. But as you looked to your side, you could make it out in the darkness—an unfamiliar figure lying next to you with an arm draped over you.

Of course, most people’s first instinct would be to scream. And boy, did you scream like a banshee. Unfortunately, your room wasn’t soundproofed so Yoichi, who’s room was next to yours, was alarmed. Your door swung open, letting the light from the common room filter into your darker one. Yoichi stood by the door, groggy and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, a bit too calmly for someone who just heard their sister scream bloody murder.

You wondered how he hasn’t noticed the hulking figure next to you until you realized that the sneaky bastard hid themself under the covers, blending in with the pillows. Now, how were you going to respond to his question? On one hand, you were fucking disoriented by the issue at hand. On another, it wouldn’t look good if you somehow had a person in your bed literally the first day you moved in.

You had your suspicions about who it might be, but even then, it was still a questionable position to be in.

“Uh… I think a cockroach landed on me or something,” you lied. Gulping down the guilt, you hoped that he’d go back to his room. Then, you felt a sharp poke to your side causing you to yelp.

Yoichi sighs, unamused. “Seriously. Do you want me to help you kill it or what?”

“No! No… um… I’ll be fine.” Poke. “Eurgh… I mean, sorry to wake you up.” Poke. Poke. Poke. You weren’t even sure why you were covering up for this annoying asshole. But whoever this was, they kept poking at your side, trying to elicit another reaction. Clearly, they were getting a kick out of messing with you. Jerk.

Your brother nods, displeased at waking up for nothing. “Weirdo. Alright, I’ll spray some insect killer in here tomorrow or something.”

With that, Yoichi was finally gone and so was your fear of getting caught. But there was still a pressing issue. Hearing the door click shut, you immediately stood up and stomped your way to the light switch. It took you a while to adjust to the sudden brightness. Things were blurry for a moment, but you were certain about what was right in front of you.

Oh… you were so damn sure who it was.

The tips of his hair were now colored and he had a massive tattoo that ran from his neck and down his arm. Sure, he was more muscular than the last time you saw him. But despite all that, you were sure. There was no mistaking that it was him.

Him. The thread of the past that threatened to hold you back. You couldn’t put a finger exactly on your relationship. Perhaps you were close before, but did those sentiments survive the test of time?

It was none other than (your sworn love of your life at the age of 12), Michael fucking Kaiser.

“So I’m a cockroach now huh?” At least the cocky smile of his hasn’t changed a bit. You’d know because you’ve seen it a million times before. It was the same kind of smile he’d have while teasing you all those years ago.

You crossed your arms, glaring at him for the stunt he pulled earlier. “You’re worse than a cockroach; that’s for sure.”

“You’re saying you’d rather sleep beside a roach than me?”

Yes, you answer in your head. But your honest answer will only serve to inflate his already gigantic ego. “Enough of that—what are you even doing here?”

He laughs a bit. Kaiser found this strange reunion quite fun. “I crash here sometimes after practice and I may have forgotten that Yoichi’s little sister was moving in today.”

The intruder seemed way too relaxed on the bed as he propped himself up on his elbow. The cocky smile morphed into a lazy grin as he continued to look at you.

Somehow your annoyance melted away. You were reminded of all the times he’d stay at your house for hours on end. As a kid, you thought nothing of it. In fact, you were jealous of how permissive his parents were. You’d have to go through a whole spiel just to get your parents to agree for you to join your friends at the park—while Kaiser was allowed to stay and sleep all the time at your house.

But growing up, realizations were made and maybe it wasn’t something to be jealous of.

You took a few steps over to the bed, still with your arms crossed. As serious as you made yourself out to be, he only found it endearing.

“Don’t you have a place to stay at? Like a dorm on campus?”

The concern in your voice puzzled you a bit. Even though he was a pain in the ass, you cared for him regardless. The way his smile disappeared heightened your worries.

“I could go back to my place with my parents…” he muses while lying flat on his back. “But you know… practice drains me so it’s better if I can pass out in the room nearby.”

He could play it cool all he wants, but the way his voice and expression changed couldn’t fool you. There was no need to pry in his personal business. If he wanted to tell you the truth—he would. “You can take the couch… I’m sure Yoichi won’t mind.”

A smile returns to his features, albeit a smaller (less cocky) one. “The question is—would YOU mind?”

Right. Well, you may have had a crush on him for all these years since you were in middle school and high school. And you may have wished that he would stop seeing you as his best friend’s little sister. Aaaand you may have promised yourself that you would end this little crush of yours in college—even if you happen to stumble upon him.

Which you did and it just so happens that you encountered him in your bed of all places.

When he and Yoichi graduated from high school and went on to go to university, you haven’t seen Kaiser since. You haven’t heard from him except from the little snippets Yoichi would tell you about his band.

So you were sure that your feelings had faded along with his memory. But then why is your heart still beating so fast? Why couldn’t you take your eyes off of him?

You chalked it up to the earlier adrenaline of having some unknown presence break into your room. But now that the presence is known… Why do you still feel so nervous?

The simple and glaringly obvious answer was: you still liked him. A lot, to be exact. But you wouldn’t let yourself admit that. Despite pining after him all these years, you were aware of how much it hurt. It pained you to know that he’ll always see you as his best friend’s little sibling. And now seeing him with his new appearance—tatted and in a punk rock band…  you were certain that he had no slim pickings when it came to women.

Once more, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment in your chest. But above all that—you couldn’t deny that he mattered to you.

“No… I don’t really mind. The couch is yours for all I care.”

Kaiser sits up straight, still keeping his gaze fixed on you. “Sweet. You’re the best.”

The best huh? It was like a knot had formed in your stomach at his words. Dropping your arms to your sides, you gave him a tristful look in exchange. So many thoughts ran rampant in your head that it barely registered to you that he had already dragged himself out of your bed and was now standing in front of you.

He still towered over you like before. Did he always go to band practice shirtless or was God messing with you right now by shoving this awful coincidence at your face (quite literally). A cold sweat ran down your spine as his scent permeated your nose. His presence alone was intoxicating.

Kaiser placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair a bit. “Good night then. I’ll see you in the morning.”

With one last smile, he was gone the same way he went in. He was even kind enough to switch the lights off for you. 

Like a drain, the thoughts that had swirled in your mind slowly vanished. Out of sight, out of mind—you figured. You slowly got back into bed, pulling the covers just below your chin. Your fingers bunched the fabric tightly enough that your knuckles went white.

You could finally sleep… but maybe in a few more minutes because now you have to deal with your covers smelling like him.

— — — — —

“I told you she was moving in yesterday. Is your head full of air or what?”

“I just fucking forgot. Get off my ass will you?”

“For fuck’s sa—Hey, morning.”

You weren’t sure what they were mumbling about. You weren’t the most coherent after waking up. Though, this did feel like a familiar scene. You, waking up later than usual—still yawning with eyes half-lidded—while your brother and his best friend were already at the table eating breakfast. And most often than not, they’re going to be arguing about something stupid.

“Morning, Yoichi… Morning, Michael.”

“Heh, you must’ve slept well. You still got marks all over your face from the sheets,” he teased. 

Kaiser was only met by a scoff. “Shut up.”

You made a beeline for the fridge, grabbing a carton of milk then making a bowl of cereal. Sitting at the table, you began to eat quietly from across them. 

“So,” Yoichi starts. “I have something important to talk with you about

Your brow quirked, piqued by your brother’s sudden shift to seriousness. “What?”

He sighs, seemingly frustrated about the impending discussion. “I’ll be straight to the point. Can this fool stay with us? Like on the couch?”

Your chewing slowed, eventually coming to a complete halt. “You mean like… indefinitely? I thought he had a place to stay though?”

Yoichi glared at the man next to him, confirming your suspicions that perhaps the things he said last night weren’t factual at all. Was he occasionally crashing here or did he actually live here? Kaiser simply held his hands up in defense, an uneasy smile to boot.

“I don’t know what this idiot told you but he’s been living with me since we got here,” Yoichi explains. You drop your spoon in your bowl causing a bit of milk to splash out. This was the first that you heard of this arrangement.

“But… does Mom know about this? There wasn’t even any sign of anyone else living here with you?”

“Nah, she doesn’t know,” Kaiser coolly replies. “Plus, all my stuff’s in a duffle bag and some of it’s in the band room. It’d be a hassle to put away all my stuff when your parents visit.”

You should have been worried about a plethora of other things, but for some reason, all you could think about was why he had to live with your brother. Just what is going on in his life?

You cleared your throat. “Are you freeloading off of my brother?”

“Ouch. Do you really think I’d do such a thing? Don’t worry. I have a part-time job so I can pay half of the rent.”

Half? For a studio apartment? Whatever part-time job he has—it definitely pays well. You could see why Yoichi would agree to it and halving the expenses was cheaper than getting a dorm. Seeing as how he’s diligent about their living situation and Yoichi isn’t refuting his claims… you feel oddly calm about it. Besides, you were sure that your parents would be fine. It’s not that different from when he’d sleep over at your house when you three were younger… right?

You scold yourself internally for being so chill about this. You were too accepting of his presence. Bad habits die hard it seems. 

But the discussion wrapped up quickly and not long after that—the two men were already deep into their discussion of the band. Yoichi and Kaiser are like the heart and mind of the band after all. This was originally their dream and somehow they roped in other guys to be a part of it. You’d never admit it to them, but you were proud of how far they’ve come.

Once you finished your breakfast, you stood to wash the dishes while they were already heading for the door.

“Hey. Come to the freshman party later. We’ll be playing and you need to watch or else I’m telling Mom.”

Kaiser chimes in. “There’s going to be a surprise too~”

Not a hint of trustworthiness could be seen in that mischievous smile of his. You had your hunch on what that surprise might be.

“I swear if you shout me out I will ignore you for the rest of the year.”

“Heh. No promises! But you should still come, alright? I’ll be waiting for you~” “I’m fucking serious. Don’t even think abo—”

And just like that, your brother and his menace of a best friend were out the door. Seems like you have something to keep you busy tonight then. Besides… you can’t disappoint someone waiting for you, right?

An act of courtesy was all it was.

— — — — —

Even without your brother’s earlier threat, you would have still come to this party. As a matter of fact, you’ve been mentally preparing for this night for about a week now. You were dead set on mingling with your fellow freshmen, getting loose, and having the time of your life. But you weren’t expecting to be overwhelmed to such a degree. The flashing lights, the huge crowd of dancing people, and the blaring music—you’ve never seen anything like it before.

How you would even get to talk to anyone here was beyond you. But perhaps you were looking at it the wrong way. People talked with their bodies here, but you couldn’t imagine pushing yourself between them—dancing and letting that speak for yourself. 

You were getting cold feet. The urge to just turn around and leave was strong. However—as much as you loathed it—his words kept you anchored in your spot.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Sure, he was. They have a whole crowd out here; there was no way he’d be able to see you among all these people. The better part of yourself knew he was buttering you up, helping Yoichi into coaxing you to come here. But you let yourself be swayed.

Desperately, you tried to weave yourself through the throng of people blocking the path towards the stage. For a freshman party, the size of the place was impressive. Though that didn’t help when it took forever to get a good spot near the stage. If you weren’t going to socialize—might as well watch your brother and his friends perform.

You’ve mostly seen their band through videos. Whenever Yoichi sent one to your parents, they’d watch it on the living room TV. But now that you were about to see them live, the atmosphere was totally different. Maybe watching it on the TV wasn’t as excessive as you once thought.

As the DJ’s music died down, people—including you—were forced to direct the attention to the stage where they had already set up shop.

“Mic check… mic check… 1, 2, 3…”

An uncharacteristic smirk crosses your face. Your brother didn’t seem so lame when he was up front and leading the band. They were quite cool, holding their instruments and wearing black outfits with hints of red. Of course, you recognized most of them from high school, but there was a new guy sitting at the drum set.

Their last drummer was a bit of a lunatic… maybe this guy won’t be so bad.

“Alright. Sorry, Mr. DJ, but you gotta pack up ‘cuz DEVOUR is in the house.”

The crowd goes wild. If they’re this pumped—what more if they start playing? Guess Yoichi wasn’t lying when he said they were a big deal now. Even the university new bloods were howling for them.

“My name’s Isagi, your vocalist for tonight.”

“It’s Kaiser. Better keep your eyes on me, a’ight?”

“Rin.”

“Sei…I mean—Nagi… Nagi Seishirou.”

“And last but not the least! I’m Shidou Fuckin’ Ryusei. Make some noise, fuckers!”

By all means, that new drummer surely is the flashiest of the bunch. With an introduction and dramatic bow like that—there’d be no shortage of eyes staring at him all night. But, of course, your eyes immediately went to a certain tattooed man. Sure enough—Kaiser wore the (sexiest) black tank top. Of course, he did. And no, you were adamant that you were merely admiring his tattoo in its full glory. Definitely not his bulging biceps. You wouldn’t dare.

They start their set with one of their louder and faster songs. Yoichi has gotten better at singing and it never fails to amaze you how his demeanor changes once he gets ahold of a microphone. Rin and Nagi are… well, they’re still laid-back as ever. And the drummer’s really going all out. They had the crowd jumping, going wild along with the music. It was insane.

Although, one of them seemed out of it. It looked as if Kaiser was finding something amongst the crowd. His eyes darted from side-to-side in the large function hall, obviously distracted. But best believe he never missed a beat; Kaiser was as  flawless as ever. He prided himself in being an excellent performer through and through.

His hunt only ended when his eyes zeroed in on you. His expression softened—you swore it did. The corners of your mouth tugged, wanting to match the smile that was plastered on his face. You were no lip reader, but you were certain that he mouthed those words to you.

“Watch me closely, okay?”

You wondered if the words he uttered in their introduction were meant for everyone or if it was addressed to someone specifically…

Whatever—you found yourself getting lost in the rhythm of their music. Sure, you were staring at Kaiser for half of their set, but the entire band caught your attention down the line. They were really really really good. There was no stopping the amused smile from creeping on your face.

Alas, they slowed after some time, signaling that their set had ended.

“How are we doing so far?”

Your brother was met with the enthusiastic roar of the crowd. Huh… well, ain’t that neat? He flashes a grin. “How about we end the night with an encore? A cover? What do y’all say?”

Again, another wave of agreement.

Safe to say—your expectations were curbed when Kaiser gave his guitar to Yoichi and took his spot at the mic. He taps the mic once, then twice. “Yoichi, take care of my baby for me. Will you? I just have a crowd to wow right now.”

Cocky. But you had to admit—strong stage presence.

The tune started and your expression quickly changed. Seriously? Of all songs to cover… they really had to go with a song that resonated WAY TOO MUCH with you. But then again, seeing that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face tells you this was not much of a coincidence.

“Can’t count the years on one hand that we’ve been together…”

Hell, you promised that you’d start this new chapter of your life like a clean slate—nothing should be holding you back. Especially not some dumb-unreciprocated-childhood crush. But could you still call it a childhood crush at this point?

“I should be over all the butterflies, but I’m into you…”

Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks or you were actually going crazy and suffering hallucinations—but you promise that his eyes were fixed on you as he sang the lyrics. 

Well, shit.

“Yeah, after all this time… I’m still into you.”

Seems like you’re not over him at all.

At the last note of the song, the crowd cheers for them—energized even after dancing for an hour now. Kaiser flashed his million dollar smile, leaning into the microphone.

“Thank you! You’ve been an awesome crowd. Again, we’re DEVOUR.”

The crowd swoons and they bow, concluding their performance for tonight. As the other guys began walking off the stage, Kaiser quickly added one last thing.

Your heart dropped when he pointed a finger at you. “And shoutout to our first and biggest fan, Yoichi’s little sister!”

While all eyes turned to look at you, your own gaze was fixed on the infuriating man on the stage. Something about those eyes were telling you that you’ll be alright.

— — — — —

It felt strange on your walk back home. After their set, you would have never thought that you’d actually find yourself with a group of people, talking and hyping each other up for the coming semester.

Well, they did approach you because Kaiser pointed you out. But a win is a win in your book. A small part of you was thankful for him. He gave you that little nudge—the boost that you needed to jumpstart from that clean slate of yours.

As you stood at the door to the studio apartment, you could hear muffled voices coming from inside. Pushing the door, you were met with the entire band. So it seems that this isn’t just their designated practice location… but also their hang out space.

How troublesome.

Yoichi and Rin were too busy arguing about something that they failed to greet you. Kaiser was nowhere to be seen, so it was only Nagi and the drummer aware of your presence.

“Yo,” Nagi greets you.

“Hey, Sei. Nice to see you again,” you wave back. Nagi only nods. Actually, you were expecting him to drop like a fly after the taxing performance they just did. But it was a pleasant surprise to see him wide awake.

You felt the drummer’s eyes on you as you made your way inside. What was his name again? Shidou was it? 

“Uh… hey, Shidou, right?”

He grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Yeah, that would be me. You Isagi’s girl?”

That seemed to catch the attention of the two men arguing. “Dude, what the fuck.”

“Did you not hear Kaiser introduce her earlier as his sister? She’s literally an Isagi too, dumbass.”

At least Rin and Yoichi can agree on some things. 

Shidou shrugs. “Must’ve missed it ‘cuz I got off the stage first.” He sat up straighter, a determined look on his face. “In that case, can I shoot my sho—”

“Hey. Shoot your shot somewhere else, you pink haired freak.”

A familiar voice made itself known as an arm draped over your shoulders. Kaiser pulled you into his side, acting all protective. “She just got here and you’re already scaring her off.”

“Pink haired freak? We got our tips dyed together, man.”

A short “pffft” comes from Nagi.

“Besides, what gives?” Shidou asks, an eyebrow raised. “You got an arm over her. How’s that any different?”

Oh how you wished your brother would come to your rescue, but he was just sitting there—bickering with Rin again. Jesus. How do they function so well on stage, but they’re like this behind the scenes?

Kaiser scoffs. “I’ve known her even before she could walk, alright?” He sets down the can of beer he was holding on his other hand. “Anyway, I’m heading out to get some more.”

But you swore the beer can was still full with the sound it made when he set it on the table. The reason behind his lie became apparent as soon as he dragged you out of the apartment with him. 

“I can’t go out alone, can I?”

Soon as you two were out the door and out of sight of the others, he removed his arm from you. It seared where his warmth lingered. You wanted to ask why he retracted, but that was too much. Kaiser shoved his hands into his pockets and walked a few steps ahead of you.

“How was the party? Had fun?”

“It was okay,” you downplayed. “Met a couple of new people.” 

He looked back at you to see what kind of expression you were making. It was rather flat—not what he was expecting. But your outward appearance betrayed the brimming excitement that threatened to burst out your chest.

He sighed before turning to look back at the path in front of him. “Glad you did. Aren’t you forgetting something though?”

“What?”

“I dunno—maybe a ‘thank you’ for helping you out.”

“Usually people don’t ask for anything in return when they do good deeds,” you retort.

“Then what’s saying ‘thank you’ for?”

“It’s for genuine people who don’t smile cocky at you while putting you on the spot.”

— — — — —

Thankfully, the convenience store wasn’t too far away. He pulled the heavy glass door for you—the hinges of which put the doors of a bank to shame with how difficult it is to open. It sure made potential robberies difficult. The cold air of the store hit you in the face causing you to squint.

“Good evening,” says the cashier. He was probably a student at his part-time job. You could tell—not because he was young—but because he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet than behind the grimey register of the store. 

He didn’t even spare you a glance until Kaiser entered the store himself. His eyebrows raised despite his deadpan expression.

“Yo, Kaiser.”

“Hey, Raichi. Working late hours again?” he asked while making his way to the fridge.

Raichi clicks his tongue. “What’s it look like?”

The dryness in his response earned a short chuckle from Kaiser. Raichi grumbles. “Heard you guys had a set today at the freshman party.”

Kaiser surveyed the different brands of beer that stared back at him through the glass of the fridge. “Yeah. Sucks you couldn’t be there.” He opens the fridge, finally having made a decision. Although he pulls out a six-pack of the same brand he was drinking earlier.

He stops and turns to look at Raichi. “This is Yoichi’s little sister, by the way,” he says while pointing to you. Suddenly, you were obliged to wave awkwardly at the other man. The lazy look remained on his face as he nodded at you.

“Knew she looked familiar.”

You were growing concerned with how more and more people were starting to know you only as “Yoichi’s little sister” —that and how Raichi basically implied you looked like your brother.

Kaiser closed the fridge, directing your gaze back to him.

“Why are you getting a single six-pack?”

A look of disbelief crosses his face, paired with an uneasy smirk. “Oh are you a drinker now too? Want a whole pack to yourself or something?”

“No, dumbass. You brought me all the way here so I thought you needed help bringing back stuff.”

He laughed louder than he was supposed to. “Can’t I bring you along as company? Besides, I’d never let you carry shit.”

You only let your gaze follow him as he carried the pack of beer to the register. As the cans made contact with the counter, Raichi had already placed a pack of smokes along with it. Kaiser stiffened, silently telling Raichi with his murderous eyes to put the fucking thing away.

But it was too late.

“Woah. You smoke?”

Raichi makes a look of realization before slowly sliding the box off of the counter. It wasn’t his fault that he had learned Kaiser’s routine like a waiter at a diner learning their patrons’ usual orders.

Kaiser shook his head while pulling out some bills from his wallet. “Psh, nah. It’s just common that when people buy booze—they also buy smokes. Force of habit huh, Rai?” 

Kaiser smiled while handing him the money, as if telling him to agree. Raichi sighed, dropping his shoulders. He doesn’t get paid enough for this shit. “Right. My bad, dude.”

It was rather… suspicious. But you thought nothing of it as Raichi shook his head incredulously, scanning the barcode plastered on the plastic wrapping of the six-pack. The cash register slides out with a bit of a hiccup. He grabs a couple of coins and hands the change to Kaiser.

“Thanks, man. Take care. Also, liven up.”

Raichi holds up his middle finger as the two of you make your way out of the store. “Yeah, take care and fuck you too.”

— — — — —

This time he walked beside you. Although, you preferred it when he walked in front of you. Staring at his back was better than feeling his presence way too close like this.

He was unusually quiet. Kaiser wasn’t bugging you or enticing you with a random story—He was just right beside you, walking silently. It only made you more nervous.

But when he spoke, you felt that perhaps his silence was better.

“What do you want to accomplish in your time here?”

That was… deep. Certainly, you’ve never spoken to each other like this before. But it felt as if he finally saw you as an equal—that you were “adult” enough that he could ask such questions to you.

He glances at you, noting your long pause. “I don’t mean boring shit like graduating. None of that. What’s something that you REALLY want to do this time around?”

“I guess…. I want to have fun.”

“No shit. Everyone wants fun. But how do you want to do it?”

He was putting you on the spot again. “I-I don’t know… I just want to do things I normally wouldn’t do without having crippling anxiety. Y’know? Like—like escaping my comfort zone or something.”

It was a shitty answer, you knew. But he nodded his head in acceptance. He halted, resulting in you doing the same. He was looking at you with that smile he had when you found him in your bed yesterday.

“Want me to help you have fun?”

“What do you get out of it?” 

“I get to have fun too. Duh.”

If anyone knew how to have fun—you would guess that it was him. His logic didn’t make perfect sense to you, but then again, Michael Kaiser never made sense to you either. It was that mystery that surrounded him that captivated you.

Pursing your lips, you eventually relented despite not knowing what was in store for you. Kaiser’s smile grew wider. “Great. I’ll look forward to making the next 4 years of your life the best you ever had.”

You were glad he started walking in front of you again… otherwise he’d see how hard you were trying to keep a straight face. This man—he was going to be the death of you.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[givekennyabreak]

You got a friend in me. (Platonic!Victor Kavanaugh x gn!reader)

Summary: Victor had no one to count on, but then - you arrived in town.

Word count: 1.39k (oops again)

Request: "Fantastic! Okay, in that case: maybe something with a twentysomething female reader (maybe someone who’s been there for a while with him to look out for her/vice-versa). I don’t really have any specific prompt in mind, but I do remember that when I saw the scene where Julie calls out Jade for the way he speaks to Jim for the first time, I immediately thought “I’d love to see something like that, but with someone standing up for Victor.” I dunno—it’d just be nice to see someone really caring about him. Most of the others all have their little pockets of found family, and he’s pretty much by himself."

Rating: T

Warnings: canon compliant cursing, mentions of death, spoilers from s1 and s2 (up to episode 3), jade calls reader "mama bear" but there's no use of pronouns or anything defining gender, 2nd person pov ig

Note: I ended up making this gender neutral without noticing lmaooo, this gif of victor is everything. give my dude a break pls

Victor was your friend.

Ever since you got in this nightmare-like town, in your mid-twenties, fresh outta university, after a trip to a new city with better job offers in your area of study, Victor has been a breath of fresh air.

Everyone had a role in town – be it to feed everyone, like Tian-Chen, or be a leader like Boyd and Donna (in Colony House, at least); everyone had a little part to play, usually worrying about whether you’d get home safely before nightfall, or if the crops were healthy, if the animals were fed.

But Victor didn’t.

He did worry, but his brain wasn’t the same as everyone else’s; he stayed alone for far too long, way too young – call it a self-defense mechanism, but his mind stayed in a perpetual child-like state, as innocent as possible in a place like this personal hell. He had a good heart, was a little awkward (again, stayed alone for too long. That’s understandable) and cared about his friends, even though they were few – you, Fatima and Ethan included.

So new people tended to look at him a little weird.

Jim Matthews was one of them, but he quickly noticed Victor wasn’t a bad person.

(You had just eaten a couple of fluffy pancakes, sitting at the counter of the diner; Victor came in and started talking to the kid who arrived with the new family. It was nice seeing him make more friends, even if it was a kid – they had similar ways of thinking, anyway.

Then, his dad stormed out of the bathroom, nearly shouting at Victor; rightfully so, it was understandable he’d find it weird an unknown middle-aged man sitting and talking to his son, but this – it was too much. You stood up, walking up to the commotion; Jim was red in the face, threatening Victor.

“You don't come near him. You don't talk to him. Do you understand me? Stay the fuck away from him.”

“Hey.” You interrupted, staying beside Victor. “Hi. I know you’re new here and all, but you don’t know us, any of us. So maybe don’t be too quick to judge others based on what you know – which is nothing.”

You smiled down at the kid, who looked so fucking lost.

“Victor is a good person, and I’m pretty sure your dad is too, right?” You looked back up at the man, who had become silent. “Set a good example for your kid – don’t threaten people.”

Jim scowled. “Come on, time to go.”)

It was good to see his development (even though it was minimal).

And then, Victor didn’t come home. And that other new guy invaded his room while you were in town – this batch of newbies wasn’t so great -, ignoring Ethan’s pleading (which he told you about later that day, cheeks red with anger. He is a good kid.), so the next morning you went down the road towards the place he was staying at.

And saw Victor right outside his door.

Relief flooded your mind and body at that; he was alive, of course he was – he was smart, he figured out a way. As you got near the house, you could hear their conversation; Jade sighed out a breath, somehow also relieved.

“Oh, you're back. Holy shit. This is great. This is great.”

“That's mine.” Victor pointed at the violin, reaching out to the wooden instrument. “Give it back to me.”

 “Yeah. Uh...”

“Give it back to me.”

“I'm sorry, alright.”

“Give it back to me.”

Jade looked down at it, blinking.  “I was just thinking I could just play it for a little bit...”

“Give it back to me!” He shouted, startling the younger man.

“Okay! Alright. Calm down, man. Here.”

The violin was handed back to Victor, who turned around on the porch. “That's my room! You don't go in my room!” He shouted and walked away, leaving a baffled Jade on the doorway. You stood still, waiting for him to come up the dirt road.

“Okay. Wait! Oh, hold on. Hey!” Jade ran out of the house, flipping through the pages on the notebook. “Slow down! I'm sorry, Okay? I shouldn't have gone in your room. I thought you were fucking dead. I've been looking everywhere for you.” He ranted.

“There's this symbol that I keep seeing. I mean, I keep seeing things that aren't actually there, but every time I do, there's this symbol, and there's this book that Kenny's mom gave me. Some guy kept drawing the same symbol and there's a picture- would you please just fucking stop!” Jade shouted, and Victor stopped in his tracks, hesitant.

 “Look at this. Look at this.” Jade displayed the drawing in the little notebook. “There's gotta be a reason I'm seeing this everywhere.”

He held up a polaroid. “This guy. He must've been seeing it too. Right? And look, right there. Right in the back.” His index finger pointed at a small boy in the back of the picture, right in front of the diner. “That's you, right? Maybe in some fucked-up way, this could be the key to getting the hell out of here. I mean, Jesus, all this time. Don't you wanna go home?”

Your heart squeezed at his words - that wasn’t fair.

Victor frowned. “You shouldn't have touched this. It's not yours. Stay away from me!”

“Well, fuck you too! Wait, uh... Fuck.”

Your friend walked right past you, still frowning, and you let him go back to colony house – you’d have the whole afternoon and night to talk with him. Right now, your attention was settled on the curly-haired man a few meters away from you, wide-eyed as he noticed your form approaching.

“Oh fuck, it's mama bear- wait-”

“Do you have any fucking idea,” You walked up to him, poking him on the chest – he walked back a few steps, wincing. “how long he stayed here? Alone, scared, as a fucking kid?”

“I’m-”

You interrupted him again. “No, you don’t. You DON’T. Because we all got to grow up in a world that isn’t so much as a sliver of the shit we see here. We want to go home, I want to go home, but this place is ALL he got to know. As heartbreaking as it is,” You closed your hands into fists, jaw set so tight your teeth might snap. “this is the home he knows. This is what he knows as normal.”

Jade went silent. He didn’t think about it this way – it didn’t even cross his mind.

“So think hard before you talk to him again.” You turned around, brows furrowed. “And fucking apologize, you asshole.”

 When you got home, the first thing you did was go up to Victor’s room; you knocked on the door, four slow raps so he’d know it was you. And so, slowly, the door opened, and you invited yourself in.

Victor sat on his bed, head hanging low and violin on his desk.

“Hey, bud.” You sat down beside him, and he threw his arms around your shoulders almost instantly. Your own arms circled his chest, and your head placed itself on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay. I got really worried.”

“’m sorry. It took me a while.” He mumbled, cheek resting on your head.

“I know. It’s not your fault, I’m really happy you’re back in one piece.” You said, patting his back the way you knew would calm him down. “And don’t mind what Jade said, okay? He’s stupid.”

Victor nodded. “Yes, he makes me angry.”

“He makes most of us angry, don’t worry.” You finally let go of him, and he drew back from the hug as well; he looked tired. “I know what’s going to make us feel better.”

You stood up, pointing at your own room. “I’m gonna get some blankets.”

He brightened up. “Blanket fort?”

You nodded your head in affirmation. “Blanket fort.”

He smiled. “I’ll help.”

Victor was a good friend.

Sometimes he made you worry; most newbies looked at him weird, some people didn’t like him – but he was your friend, he was your little found family in this nightmare town.

And, even if you never got out of here, it was okay – because you had a good friend by your side, and Victor would never let you down.

[iloveyousomuchxoxoxo]

Hey there! I saw ya post and uh wondered if I could request Tom smut.

A one shot where reader and Tom sorta hate eachother but always have this sexual tension, and one day when the group was bored and decided to host a "party" (it was js them watching movies and not really paying attention to it with junk food and soft drinks)

After Edd n Matt go to bed Reader and Tom are left Drunk outta their minds, so yknow they decided to start insulting each other but Tom accidentally lets his real feelings slip and called Reader Hot or smth and they start uh doin the thingy yknow. Sorry if this is long

Fem reader if that's alright! Also I'm sorry if this is too specific but can reader also be around Tom's height? Thanks!

| " Hate and lust are so similar "

AUGH I LOVE THIS??? Sorry it took me so long to see this-- been without a monitor for a little while. Hope you like this! NSFW ;; MDNI !! Tom x FEM!Reader ( P in v, switch!Tom + Switch!Reader, degrading + praise, hate sex(? Maybe?), hair pulling, drunk sex ) okay so this has been ROTTING IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER,,,, and i dont have the motivation to continue it so im posting it as is, if people like it i'll probably finish it

Tom, with his weird black eyes, ugly brown hair, and a smile that made you weak in the knees with.. disgust. You hated him, really. Hated him so much. Though you didn't know much about Tord (you had moved in after the mysterious Norge left), you could understand why he supposedly hated him.

And Tom hated you, too! So it was justified.

"..Ugh, fine." You groaned at Matt, who was stood in front of you, bright eyes sparkling as he had been begging you to get out of your room to hangout with everyone. Including Tom. But, he had promised free drinks.

"Great!" Matt exclaimed, grabbing your hand and dragging you excitedly to the living room. Whoa, Matt and Edd had gone all out, huh? The table was filled to the brim with an assortment of snacks, and beverages, both alcoholic, and regular.

When your eyes settled on the familiar brunette, you felt a pang of annoyance hit you. To be honest, you had forgotten Tom would be here too.

"Oh, great," Tom's voice drawled out, "the local douche is here. Y'not gonna ruin this for all of us, right?" A sigh emerged from Edd, and Matt rolled his eyes. You weren't as amused as Tom seemed to be.

"I should be asking you that, fuckass," you countered in a huff, walking to the very opposite side of the couch and plopping down.

Despite the few quarrels between Tom and yourself, the night had been going surprisingly well! You and Tom had even agreed on something; choice of drink. Smirnoff. It was obvious, you two were clearly drunk off your asses.

"Shouldn't you.. slow down?" Matt offered meekly, brows furrowing. You scoffed loudly, flinging your arms up. "At least drink some water, Y/N!" he demanded, thrusting a bottle of water at you.

With some argument you took the water and downed around half of it. Then chased it with another shot. Matt, clearly frustrated, stormed off. He tended to get pissy when he wasn't listened to, after all. Edd called out to Matt, before following, leaving Tom and you alone. What would usually be your worst nightmare.

But tonight it seemed.. different.

"Ain't Matt such a buzz kill?" you asked Tom, laughing. A chuckle escaped the brit and he nodded, "Always and forever." The two of you cracked up in laughter.

Then, Tom's face turned sour, as if he had tasted something foul. "Shu-- shut up! Yer' laugh is so annoying." You were taken aback, your expression turning less than happy as well. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Y/N! Your voice is annoying, every'hing about you s'annoying!" He threw his arms up, as if to somehow make his point more convincing. "So I'm annoying? At least I don't look like a freak!"

The two of you shot back and fourth insults at each other.

"Well-- well YOU sound stupid, stuttering all the time!" You hissed, scowling at Tom, lips curled in a sneer. Did Tom tend to stutter? Not exactly, but sometimes when it was just you too, he'd slip up over his words.

"It's not my fault you're so hot!" He countered, before stopping, going bright red.

You weren't sure if it was the drinks getting to you, or the fact your heart skipped a beat when he had said that-- but you felt an odd feeling collecting at your core. "..You think m'hot?" You asked as carefully as you could.

Shamefully, Tom nodded.

With rather quick movements, you found yourself on Tom's lap, peering down at him expectantly. "Holy fuck-!" He gasped, hands instinctively flying out to grab hold of your waist. "Did you really mean it? Or-- or was it the.. y'know," you nodded towards the empty cans lying around.

A small huff escaped Tom, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours. Deciding that, 'what the hell, I've already come this far', you immediately kissed back, your hands resting themselves on Tom's face. You felt the brit's teeth nip at your lower lip- silently asking for permisson.

You hummed against his lips, not opening your mouth in the slightest. This seemed to annoy him, and his hand snaked around to your back, sliding down ever so slowly. He squeezed hard on the plush of your ass and it caused your breath to hitch, a small gasp escaping you as your back arched.

Tom took the opportunity and shoved his tongue into your mouth, his hands letting up their tight grip on you slightly. After a bit of tongue wrestling, you eventually began to feel something poke at you from underneath.

When you pulled away from Tom, a small string of saliva connected your lips, and the sight made the thing poking you become harder. A grin spread across your face, and you rolled your hips ever so slightly. "Y-- Y/N!" Tom gasped, his hips bucking up slightly, thrusting against you.

Feigning innocence, you cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "What?" Tom whined as you continued to roll your hips on him, his hips rutting up for any sort of friction on his aching member. He didn't care what stimulation or friction it was-- he just needed something. Anything.

"Quit teasing me, fuckin' whore.." he murmured, clenching onto your ass tightly. You chuckled, shaking your head. "I dunno, your pretty mean to me-- a lot."

Typically you assumed you'd be disgusted at the idea of doing anything like this with Tom of all people.. but the way he looked up at you, his boner rubbing up against you, expression glazed with need, and lust; it made you want him, badly. Feeling your resolve buckle, you swiftly made to unzipping Tom's pants- an action that clearly surprised the drunk.

[chronicbeans]

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 9)

Our sister is a bit of an upsetti spaghetti rn but she's trying her best.

TW: Mentions of Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Idol Worshipping, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🎥 You knock on Angela's door, calling out "Angela... Can I talk to you? If you are too upset right now, I understand... But I am very concerned about something Henry said to me earlier..." Through the door, you hear her shout "Fine! But if you have that creepy puppet with you, leave it outside my room! Its eyes seem to stare into my soul... I can't see how you can stand working with it."

🎥 You step inside, seeing the muted brown walls of her room. Paintings of forests and corner side diners fill the walls, all of which were made by her deceased husband. She hasn't really been able to let him go, which you understand. They were very close. You sit on her bed, next to her. She's curled herself up into a ball, almost like she is trying to protect herself from danger.

🎥"I'm guessing the diary contains a lot of stuff about... him, right? You never really get this upset unless it has to do with Henry's dad. Last time I saw you like this was when the frame to one of his paintings cracked from falling off the wall." You watch as she nods. She sniffles her nose, before looking at you "Yeah. The page it was opened to was... well, the day he died. It was about the accident. I don't know why Henry would want to read about that! I have been trying to hide the specific details from him. He knows his dad passed away, but not how. I wrote about how in that entry... I just feel like he shouldn't know that much until he is a little older and can understand it a bit more, you know?"

🎥 You nod, trying to stay as comforting as possible. You don't really know how to help people out in situations like these, but you try your best. Right now, though, there is a pressing matter at hand. So, you quietly say "I understand... I know now is probably not the best time, but I feel like I have to ask this. Did you tell Henry about my job? Possibly about the letters I have been getting? You know, the ones from..." You trail off as she slowly shakes her head. "No, I haven't. I gave up on telling him the truth about that stupid puppet show after you kept stopping me. The letters shouldn't even be mentioned to him, in my opinion. A little kid shouldn't be burdened with the knowledge that a family member is being harassed and stalked! Why do you ask? Did he say something about it?"

🎥 You nod, before explaining what he said to you about Wally. About how Wally, according to Henry, spoke to him about you being a puppeteer and said things similar to the letters you have been getting. You finish it off by saying "I know it might sound a bit crazy, but look... I'm desperate for answers here. What if it's the puppet that's after me? You didn't tell Henry about any of that and I certainly didn't. I don't know, I might just be going crazy..."

🎥 Angela holds her hand up to stop you. Once you are quiet, she takes a shakey breath, then says "I HATE puppets... If you are right, this is something right outta my worst nightmare. I'm just going to roll with what you said, though, because it does seem very shady." She then looks down at her lap, before continuing "I mean, I do feel like I was a little harsh on Henry. He has never done anything like going through my room or reading my diary, before. It just doesn't seem like him to do that sorta thing. I should go say sorry. I'll talk to you in a little bit."

🎥 With that, Angela stands and leaves the room. You decide to go, too, and check on Wally. However, when you check where you left him, you find that he isn't there. A chill rushes up your spine as you walk around the house, searching for him. Eventually, however, you hear a little yelping noise, before some thumping by the kitchen. It sounds a bit like something falling...

🎥 You rush over, seeing that the basement door by the backdoor of the house is wide open. In the darkness of the basement, you hear a little "scuttle, scuttle" noise against the concrete floor. You flick on the lights and, at the bottom of the stairs, you see Wally lying flat on his face.

🎥 You slowly step downstairs, keeping your eyes locked on the puppet, before you find yourself at the bottom of the stairs. Angela and Henry are both still upstairs. You can tell because Henry is very loud when he is upset, so you can hear him crying from all the way down in the basement. So, someone must've brought Wally here, or if he IS alive, he must've walked down here on his own... Or fell... He does look like he fell down the stairs. His legs are all twisted, along with his arms...

🎥 You grab him, a bit harsher than you did the last few times you have grabbed him. Then, you march upstairs and place him on the couch. Then, you wrap him up in a blanket, tightly, as you say "Now, I don't know what is going on here... But you keep moving. Maybe that will help..." Then, you tie a knot tightly in the blanket, intending for it to keep him still. You don't have high hopes that it will, but at least it is something.

[hadeslegacyhephgirl]

It was 6 in the morning when Nico received the phone call from Lou Ellen.  

"Whaaaat" 

"It's Will, Nico. He's in a coma" 

The words crashed into him like a tsunami. Fear and worry made a home in his chest 

"Where are you?"  "Hospital"  "… what?"  "Ambulance go there before I could call anyone. And our chariot crashed bad, it's basically disintegrated" 

"I'm going to wake Jason and Kayla and meet you there"  "Can you get Annabeth and Cecil, too?"  "Why?"  "Annabeth 'cause I'm gonna need brains here. Cecil because- just- because"  "Fine. Where?"  "Carra Hospital, Room 304, I'll send you a picture"  "I'll be there in 10"  He hung up  

Waking everyone up was… mixed.  

All Jason and Kayla had to hear was 'Will' and they got up immediately. 

Cecil only came when he heard Lou was there. 

Annabeth insisted they take along Piper and Percy. 

So it was a party of seven that turned up in room 304. 

Cecil wrapped Lou in a hug from behind as Lou talked to Annabeth, who was holding Percy's hand. Kayla and Piper went to see if they could charmspeak a nurse to bring another IV for the nectar Kayla had brought, and Jason went along just in case there were monsters. 

Leaving Nico standing by Wills bed, staring at his wounds. 

He counted each and every nick and scratch on Will's face and arms (37) and took in the propped up, bandaged leg. 

Suddenly he couldn’t bear to be so far away from Will.   He climbed into the bed and tucked himself between Will's side and arm, nesting his head on Wills chest, closed his eyes and let the tears come 

~*~ (Will) 

It was dark 

He felt around 

There was a fuzzy silence  

He couldn't remember anything 

Except that he was a boy 

Chink 

He looked up. Something, a piece of light hung in the air. He touched it. 

"Boy"  "7 boys, two girls"  "Hey, boy-o" 

Oh. 

These were memories. 

So he had to piece himself back together. 

He could do that. 

He will do that. 

Chink 

Another shard of light, right next to the first. 

"Will"  "Hi, Will"  "Will?"  "William!" 

His name was Will 

There was solace in knowing his own name 

Chink 

This time, only one voice rang out 

"Solace"  The voice sounded annoyed, slightly raspy with a slight Italian accent.  

This time it was accompanied by a picture. 

Two dark brown eyes, so big and beautiful, yet so dark and knowing they looked like they were staring into your soul. 

The image hung in the air, away from the other chinks of light. Like the beginning of a picture. One he would figure out. 

~*~ (Nico)     

"Should we wake him up?"  "Nah, leave him. You know he can't live without his Will"  "What if he never wakes up, though?"  "He will. He has to. Besides, Nico wouldn't let him die"  "But-"  "No buts. We'll contact Hades, Hypnos, Apollo, anyone that can help. We're not losing him" 

Nico drifted in and out of sleep, not wanting to confront the waking world, but scared of the nightmares that threatened to take him. 

Finally he opened his eyes to find Jason sitting in the visitor chair. 

"Hey, Neeks."  "What time is it?"  "A little past-"  He checked his watch 

"- one in the afternoon. Listen, we're gonna get Will outta here."  "how?"  "Piper'll be here in a few minutes with the van, Kayla and Annabeth. She's gonna charmspeak him out." 

Nico looked down at Will and grabbed his hand.  "We're getting you out of here, Will. So don’t you dare go dying on me."    ~*~ 

My name is Will Solace  I am 17 years old  I am one of Apollo's children  My home is Camp Half-Blood  I'm a doctor, medic, head councilor 

I have siblings, family, friends.  And I will get out of here. 

~*~ 

"Careful!"  "We are being careful!"  "… sorry" 

They loaded Will into the back of the van 

Piper had, quite literally, worked like a charm. Within ten minutes they had Will on a transportable gurney and out the hospital. 

It was a silent drive back to camp 

~*~    He'd done it. 

The door was nearly complete. A door of light, of memory. The chinks of light had formed the rectangular shape as he'd gathered more and more information. 

All that was missing was a doornob. 

The picture was done too. 

A picture of a boy with raven black hair framing milky white skin and big brown, almost black eyes. Dressed in a leather jacket with ripped black jeans and a black shirt that read Camp Half-Blood 

But it felt wrong. 

Like there was something missing. 

The boy's name. 

He began looking though the memories of the door, each piece a word with memories attached to it. 

Then he remembered. 

There was one that only had one memory attached 

Maybe it was longer? 

Hesitantly he touched it. 

"Solace" 

Silence. He waited  "Fine." The Italians voice again. 

"There we go. See, it wasn't so hard, was it?" His own voice now.  "But just three days, you hear me?"  "Sure, unless I need to keep you longer"  "Solace, I swear-"  "C'mon, Neeks."  "Do not call me that"  "Alright Death Breath-"  "Or that"  "Zombie Lord?"  "Absolutely not. It's Nico, full stop"  "Alright, Sunshine"  "… that's okay too, I guess" 

Ding 

The picture of the boy - Nico - suddenly seemed vibrant, alive. 

And the door had a doornob. 

Hesitantly he reached for it. 

Back home. 

Back to Nico 

If there was any chance the son of Hades could love him back. 

~*~ 

It had been a week since Will had gone under the coma. 

Five days since he'd been moved to the infirmary 

Jason had given up on trying to get Nico to leave Wills bedside, except to shower every so often. 

So it was just Will and Nico and silence. 

Silence that was broken with a raspy voice coming from the bed 

"Nico?" 

Nico looked up into Wills brilliant blue eyes that were open and he was awake. 

A sob wrenched from his throat and he flung himself into Wills arms. 

"Hey, Sunshine. How long has it been?" 

Nico sniffed and buried his head into Wills shoulder. 

"A week"  "oh."  Nico sniffed again and looked up into very much open celeste blue eyes  "But your back now, right?"  "Yeah, Sunshine. I'm right here. And I always will be." 

~*~ 

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Pros and Cons with Fairytale! Dabihawks

Warnings: Yandere behavior like controlling behavior, possessiveness, non consensual hypnosis and Dabi using spells without consent, Hawks overreacting. (No sexual violence takes place though)These fuckers suck

꧁Hawks꧂ Pros: He’s unexpectedly loyal, generous and genuinely loving. He doesn’t use brute force or anything like that. He’s also hyper observant of surroundings. So no need to worry about getting killed or anything like that. Hawks also loves getting into your interests and spending time with you!

Cons: Oh god, he’s the worst MF to ever get into a misunderstanding with. Dabi and his little team of mischievous and ill tempered fae have put him on edge over the last few months. So it only makes sense for him to strike down someone who was getting close for comfort! Don’t cry canary, it was just some low life scum who probably wanted to hurt you! There’s also his unwillingness to share or even let you out of his kingdom. Hope you find his capital and castle the most entertaining thing on the planet because you ain’t leaving any time soon. Hawks is also painfully clingy, always by your side and smoothering you with unwanted affection

All in all, absolutely not, poison his ass and run away to be a bandit or something. (If you’re into this then good luck)

♥︎Dabi❦

Pros: When he’s not being a murderous sorcerer with a penchant for revenge and arson, Dabi is actually pretty funny. Mostly in a dry sorta way. He’s also surprisingly patient with you with his latest scheme. This is the same guy who was plotting his father’s demise since he was sixteen so. Dabi doesn’t do love potions or anything, he much prefers to savor the process of seducing you and leading you into his dark embrace.

Also, he can transform into any creature he wants to. If you like to pet spooky looking wolves or a dragon that came straight outta hell then you have achieved peak husband material

Cons: Remember how he’s a sorcerer? Yeah, Dabi isn’t afraid to use his magical gifts against you. Just because he said no to love potions doesn’t mean everything else is off the table. Sleeping spells, hypnosis, numbness spells, you name it. This is when you start to piss him off, like if you bring up his family, try outsmarting him or try to escape. He also gives the illusion of choice, which is much more painful than Hawks’ methods.

If Hawks or you make him upset enough, Dabi will put your consciousness into a liminal state where you’re in some euphoric nightmare. Think the ballroom dance scene from Labyrinth

All in all: Absolutely not, run away.

@gh0stgirl333

[livingincolorsagain]

Hey a! For the SamBucky ask - either 🛥️ Meanwhile, on the Boat... or 💕 Who Fell First please

hey mexi! thanks for the ask and for this very fun ask game! <33

(i know you said or but why choose when i can do both?)

from this list: SamBucky Romance Asks

Sam isn’t sure how they got here.

The day started normal enough. No urgent calls in the middle of the night, no world-ending catastrophes, not even the odd nightmare they both still get sometimes.

Scratch that, the day started incredibly well, actually. Sam let himself sleep in, and was awakened near noon with soft brushes of lips and the rasp of a beard against his neck, Bucky’s deep voice in his ear, his hand slipping under Sam’s loose t-shirt, then lower and lower.

They didn’t leave the bed for another hour.

Now, with the sun in the middle of the sky and burning bright, Sam is standing on the boat, hand on his hips, staring incredulously at Bucky, who has his arms crossed across his chest and a stubborn expression on his face.

“What,” Sam asks again, “are you talking about?”

“I fell first.”

Sam takes in a deep breath. “No.”

Bucky’s face gets a little redder, and Sam doesn��t know if it’s the sun or his indignation.

“What do you mean, no? I’m telling you!”

“It doesn’t make sense. You didn’t even want to talk to me for six months!”

Bucky’s face does a complicated thing, and something twists painfully in Sam’s stomach.

“I did,” Bucky says softly, a little brokenly. “Want to talk to you. I wanted to see you. I just… didn’t think it was good for you. Thought you were checking on me outta pity.”

“Pity for myself, maybe,” Sam says, looking away at the open ocean, something bitter burning its way through him.

The day is beautiful, endless blue skies, gentle waves rocking the boat and a light breeze, the world quiet and safe for a change, and here they are, arguing about something that doesn’t even matter, opening up old wounds like they don’t know how to let go of the hurt.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, because it doesn’t; it shouldn’t.

Bucky makes a frustrated noise and steps closer to Sam. And when Sam doesn’t turn to him, he says, “Hey, look at me.”

With a sigh, Sam does. Bucky’s face keeps doing these fleeting complicated things, so many emotions trying to make it to the surface.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “for every second I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I can’t take it back, no matter how much I wish I could, but I can promise that it won’t ever happen again, that I’ll always be there for you from now on. Long as you want me, sweetheart, because I’ve loved you long before I knew what it was, long before I knew I ever could.”

Sam’s vision gets a little blurry, his breath catching in his chest as he bites his lip to hold back the pitiful sound trying to escape.

Bucky’s hands come up to cup his face, his touch so tender it hurts. “Hey, no, don’t cry. Lord, this is not at all going how I wanted.”

And that makes Sam laughs. “And what were you trying to do?”

Bucky sighs, letting his hands drop to Sam’s waist and pulling him closer. “Was trying to be romantic, had this big romantic speech ready, then ya started arguing with me. Should’ve known better, really.”

Sam snorts, head resting on Bucky’s chest and arms around his waist.

It’s a little too hot for them to be standing this close, with the sun beating down on them, but this closeness was a reassurance Sam cannot step away from. Something he’s been craving long before he realized it, or wanted to admit it.

And now, it doesn’t matter who wanted it first, because they both have it, and that’s all that matters.

Still, though—

“I fell first,” Sam says.

“You’re wrong,” Bucky says, voice cracking with humor, “but that’s okay. At least you’re pretty.”

Sam gives his side a pinch for that.

[thecapricunt1616]

Promptober Day 13👻

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭): Kerry rested his head on your shoulder as he held you from behind, rubbing over your cute little 5 month baby bump as you looked over the horror section in your neighborhoods newest Blockbuster store. You were currently in the horror section, torn between Friday the Thirteenth, or A Nightmare on Elm Street for your scary movie night. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello everyone! I'm kinda caught up, heres promptober 13/31! I hope you like it, It's my first time writing Kerry soooo eeeek! I hope that I did it right, of course feedback is always appreciated. Love you all! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Implied smut, thats like it. Not very edited, of course (since we die like men here.) 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @/𝘀𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗸𝗮-𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀 & @/𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀

Kerry rested his head on your shoulder as he held you from behind, rubbing over your cute little 5 month baby bump as you looked over the horror section in your neighborhoods newest Blockbuster store. You were currently in the horror section, torn between Friday the Thirteenth, or A Nightmare on Elm Street for your scary movie night. 

“We take any longer choosin’ the little guy is gonna be born in a blockbuster” he teases, curls tickling your cheek as he gives you a gentle kiss on the temple, and rubs under your little bump. You giggle a bit, putting Friday the Thirteenth back and settling for A Nightmare instead. 

“The little guy is getting hungry let’s get a pizza on the way home I wanna eat dinner on the couch like a heathen” you giggle, following him up to the counter. 

“Sure thing, darlin. We’ll get extra cheese just for you” he said happily as he got you checked out with the teen working at the front counter. The drive home was nice, giggling and singing along to the radio with Kerry. Your life had been like this since you’d gotten married, simple. After you found out that you’d been expecting? It was just the icing on the cake that you two of you were starting your own little family. 

“My goodness I swear I’m about to start droolin’ like a dog this pizza smells to die for” you said as you plopped on the couch after washing your hands, opening up the box and putting a slice on your plate as Kerry got the movie set up. 

“Make sure you leave some for me over there missy” he teased, coming and sitting with you, hitting play on the remote and grabbing a slice for himself. You cuddled up to him as you ate, sighing contently. 

“I love our date nights. Especially ones like this. They’re always so nice” you said softly and he hums in agreement 

“S’always nice to stay In with my favorite girl” he said, pecking your lips sweetly and you smiled gratefully, turning your attention back to the tv. After 3 slices of pizza and a can of sprite you were comfortably snuggled into Kerrys side as you watched the movie. It came to the part where Freddy sticks his tongue through the phone causing you to jump a bit and cover your mouth in surprise. Kerry just laughed and you giggled a bit, looking up at him.

“I think i’d burn my lips if that happened to me. Unless it was your tongue of course but then I’d just slap your arm for lickin’ me like a dog” you teased and he chuckled, planting a chaste kiss on your temple. 

“Well lucky for you I only lick you where you want me to” he teased, running his hand up your side and over the curve of your waist. You looked up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. 

“Wherever I want?” You asked, lips curling into a smirk and a chuckle rumbles low in his chest.

“Is someone feelin’ naughty today, little miss?” he asked, his southern drawl thick with the huskiness of his voice and you giggle, blushing like a schoolgirl and becoming putty in his hands. Kerry always did this to you, something about those blue eyes and southern charm had you malleable to his every desire- not that you minded though. 

“Maybe you just bring it outta me, Mister Von Erich” you said, leaning in and giving him a gentle lingering kiss on the cheek. “Are you gonna teach the bad girl a lesson?” you whisper in his ear and he chuckled, standing up and picking you up bridal style like you weighed nothing. 

“I think I need to teach you a lesson on how that mouth you have gets you in trouble, it got you knocked up an’ya still haven’t learned, ain’t that right?” he chides as he carried you to the bedroom, causing you to drop your head back and giggle.

“Maybe it’s your teaching style, professor. Have you considered that?” you teased as he gently laid you on the bed, still ever careful with you even while playing considering your condition. He chuckled at your teasing, tugging off your flowy skirt you’d invested in many colors to accommodate your growing belly and helping you tug off your blouse, kissing along your skin as you did so.

“Maybe you’re on t’somethin sweet stuff. We’ll try somethin’ different this time, you wanted me t’lick you, right?” he asked hotly in the shell of your ear sucking gently on your earlobe and the sensation sent warm tingles all down the back of your neck, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Yes- b-but not there- somewhere else” you said shyly, cheeks flushing with heat. He chuckled, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on your neck and shoulders. 

“Where? Tell me where babygirl-” he ran his hand down your neck, cupping it lightly with his palm and looking into your eyes “Here?” he asked lowly, and you brought your bottom lip between your teeth, swallowing thickly and shaking your head no and he hums, trailing his hand down and unhooking your front clasp bra, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your peaked nipple and smirking a bit when your jaw dropped in pleasure, back arching into his touch.

“Alright pretty girl, how about here?” he dipped his head down, licking from the column of your throat down through the valley of your breasts, causing you to shiver. He chuckled a bit, his warm breath trailing up the wet spot he’d left moments prior with his tongue, moving up and swirling his tongue over your intensely sensitive bud causing a choked moan to tear from your throat, hand finding the back of his head and pulling him closer. 

“Thats not what I had in mind but oh my - that feels wonderful” you breathed, arching your chest into his mouth. The feeling of his tongue flicking and swirling over your nipple was sending jolts of pleasure right for your core, right where you really needed him. You gasped and gently tugged his hair, before getting the bright idea to take his hand from your hip and cup his palm over tour clothed heat. “Here- I want you to lick me here” you breathe and he huffs a chuckle into your breast, pulling off your sensitive bud with a pop.

“I can do that for you angel- I’d love to” 

Fin

Tag List:  - @carmenberzattosgf - @daysofyellowroses - @mouseymilkovich  - @gallaghersgal - @maggiesarchives - @carmybrainworms - @l4long-winded - @babyspiderling - @southsideserendipity - @djlnkaled

[munson-blurbs]

feel free to totally ignore this if it sounds weird! but, could you maybe write some hurt/comfort where post-vecna!eddie has been gaining weight (injury recovery, depression, adjusting to eating again, etc.) and feels insecure about it? and the reader comforts him? thank you either way! i love your writing.

I hope y'all enjoy this 💚 a lil friends-to-lovers, perhaps?

Warnings: weight gain, body image issues mentions of injuries/Eddie's experience in the Upside Down, depression/mental health issues, language

WC: 1.5k

--

Eddie squints, wincing, as sunlight streams through his window. His clock reads 7:05, which means he’s gone another night without sleeping. He prefers staying awake these days, because sleep often brings nightmares of dark red clouds, screeching demobats, and your tear-stained cheeks as you screamed out for help over his pale body.

A sugary smell permeates the air, and he realizes that you must’ve snuck out of bed to make breakfast. You’ve been spending the night ever since he’d come home from the hospital. Initially, you’d slept in a sleeping bag on the floor until his wounds healed enough. “I’m a restless sleeper; wouldn’t wanna hurt you, Eds,” you’d insisted, but after two months, you reluctantly agreed to join him in his tiny twin bed. 

He sits up with a grimace. All he wants is to curl up under the covers and shut out the world. He’s exhausted, but not just from a lack of sleep. It seems like merely existing tires him out now. His body still aches four months after Spring Break, but the pain goes beyond the injuries. It’s like he’s hurting from the inside out.

Maybe if I actually get dressed, change outta these goddamn sweatpants, I’ll feel a little better, he thinks. It’s a longshot, but he figures it’s worth a try. He rummages through the crumpled clothes in his dresser drawer until he finds his favorite pair of jeans. Sliding the light-wash denim over one leg, then the other, he hoists them around his waist to fasten the button.

But it won’t close.

“What the fuck?” he hisses through gritted teeth. No, these fit back in March. He remembers, because you told him that he looked good in them. He’d felt like he was walking on clouds for the rest of the day. Eddie looks down at his waist now, noticing some pudge where his stomach was once flat. 

“Son of a bitch!” he groans. It’s louder than he intended, and his cheeks redden as you burst through the bedroom door. 

“Are you okay?” you ask breathlessly. There’s pancake batter smeared on your hands and you’re still in your pajamas, but Eddie thinks you’ve never looked cuter. 

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” he mutters, trying to cover his waistband with his shirt. 

Your worried look dissipates as you breathe a sigh of relief. “You scared me; I thought you fell or something!” Though your tone is scolding, the smile on your lips indicates that you’re not actually angry. “So what’s wrong? Or are we just swearing to ourselves for fun now?”

Eddie briefly considers lying, but you’ve been friends too long for him to pull one over on you. “My pants are too tight,” he admits sheepishly. He can’t even say they shrunk in the wash, because he hasn’t worn them in months. 

“That’s all?” You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “That’s not a big deal. If you’re feeling up to it, we can go to the Gap and get some more. They always have a sale going on.”

His eyes widen at your indifference. “The pants aren’t the problem here!” he protests. “My body’s, like, betraying me, or some shit. First these ugly scars, then the soreness from the fall, and now this!” He gestures to his undone button and little potbelly before sitting back down on the bed and letting out the most self-pitying moan you’ve ever heard. 

You giggle involuntarily, clapping a hand over your mouth as quickly as you can. “I’m sorry, Eds. I’m not laughing at you.” You plop down next to him and put your arm around his shoulders. “The scars are gonna fade, and the pain will go away gradually. That’s what all the doctors said, right?”

Eddie looks down at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with you. “Yeah, I know,” he mumbles. “But what about—“

“Gaining weight?” You cut him off, and he nods. “Remember when you first came home, and you weren’t eating anything? How scared we were that you would just waste away?” It was a sight you’d never forget. Your best friend, normally full of energy and charisma, half-alive and covered in his own blood. The way your own voice warbled as you pleaded with him to stay with us, hang on. Seeing him with tubes in his nose, torso wrapped in bandages as he lay still in his hospital bed. He’d slept most of the time, waking up occasionally to cry. And now that he was home, he never left the trailer. You’d probably never have seen him again if you weren’t practically living there, too.

“That’s clearly not an issue anymore,” he huffs, trying and failing to button his jeans. “‘S like, just when I thought I couldn’t get any uglier…”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked. “Eddie Munson, you’re not ugly, you’ve never been ugly–not even when your head was shaved,” you add with a grin, “and you’ll never be ugly.” You take his hand in yours. “Think about it: if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t want me calling myself ugly.”

“‘Course not,” Eddie murmurs. “I’d still think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.” His lidded eyes snap open at the confession. “I-I mean…”

“And I think you’re the most handsome man in the world,” you tell him, and it’s the truth. You’d never admitted it to him before, but his smile always made you smile, and you couldn’t deny the way your stomach flip-flopped when he gazed into your eyes with his own brown orbs.

“You do?” Eddie questions incredulously. “Even…even like this?”

“The only thing I’d change is…I just wish you were happy. Happy Eddie is my favorite Eddie.”

He pauses, gnawing on his lower lip. “Sometimes,” he starts, “I feel like I’ll never be happy again.” Tears trickle down his cheek as he rests his head on your shoulder. “I want to be happy; and I feel little, like, pings of it every once in a while, y’know? Like when you cook for me, or comb my hair, but then it’s just replaced with guilt.”

“Guilt?”

“Yeah, like, I feel bad that you have to do all this stuff for me. And I can’t do anything for you in return.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “‘M fuckin’ pathetic.”

“Please stop saying that about yourself.” You feel yourself choke up and you swallow a sob. “You’re brave, and wonderful, and sweet, and beautiful. Scars or no scars; weight gain or no weight gain.” You continue, rubbing his back with your palm. “I feel frustrated knowing that no matter what I do, I can’t take away your sadness.”

“‘S like, it never leaves. And I can’t even talk to someone about it, unless you know any shrinks who specialize in post-alternate dimension trauma.” He offers a sliver of a smile, and it warms your heart.

“How’re you funny even when you’re dealing with so much?” you hum, running your fingers through his hair. The two of you sit there like that for a few moments before you pull away. “I should get back to making breakfast,” you say finally, though you truly don’t want to move.

“Wait,” Eddie blurts out, and you turn your head to look at him. “Did–did you mean what you said earlier? About me being handsome?” He blushes at his own statement.

“I believe my exact words were ‘most handsome man in the world,’” you tease, “and, yes, I meant it, Eds.”

He takes a second to absorb what you’ve just said. “I meant what I said, too. About you being the most beautiful girl in the world. Felt that way for a long time, actually.” He shifts his body slowly and brings his hand to cup your cheek. “Was gonna ask you on a date, but my plans got kinda…derailed.”

“Me?” you squeak out.

“Yeah, you,” he chuckles lightly. “Just didn’t think you felt the same way.”

You scoot closer to his body. “Can I show you how I feel?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean into him, parting his plush lips with yours. You’re wrought with nerves, and the kiss is quick, but it feels like your heart’s exploding in your chest.

“You have the best lips,” you tell him, speaking against his mouth, “and the best neck,” you press a kiss right above his collarbone, and you feel him shiver, “and the best tummy.” You swoop down and blow a raspberry into his stomach, making him cover his torso with his hands.

“You know I’m ticklish there!” he whines, but he’s laughing as he says it.

“Oh, are you?” You wiggle your fingers mischievously, but he grabs your wrists before you can make contact.

“I was thinkin’,” Eddie says, tugging on your hands to pull you towards him, “maybe I could take you up on that shopping trip? We could, um, go get something to eat after?” His lips meet your forehead, and a tingle shoots through your spine. “‘S not exactly how I pictured our first date, but…”

“I’d love that,” you jump in, peppering his face with kisses. “Wanna help me make breakfast first?”

“Depends.” He’s smiling from ear to ear. “Can we put chocolate chips in the pancakes?”

--

[rabbitblackx]

hi! omg i love your blog! can i request something cute with ben drowned? maybe the reader has a nightmare and is scared to fall back to sleep. or is paranoid at night? thank you <33

Thank u that’s so sweet!! <33

BEN Drowned when Reader has a nightmare

No matter how far you ran or how well you hid, whatever it was that was chasing you always caught up. Frustrated tears threatened to spill as you sprinted down a dim hallway. Just as you thought you were finally far enough from this monster, you could hear it creeping up behind you. You whipped around and tried to scream, but it was cut short when long, sharp claws sliced into your belly

You noisily gasped for air as you shot up from bed, beads of sweat forming along your forehead. Your heart was pounding through your top, where you then shakily clutched it through the fabric

What a dumb nightmare… still scared the hell outta you though. You just hoped nobody heard your rather dramatic awakening…

You wiped the cold tears from your cheeks as you slowly began to calm down. Lucky for you, you didn’t awaken or alert anyone within the large mansion. Well, all but a certain demonic creature that slept within your computer

You then had a second fright that night. You jumped in surprise when your computer from across the room suddenly lit up. Much like a horror movie you once saw, harmless water began to pour out from the screen and along your desk, where it then drizzled to the floor

“BEN?” You whisper yelled. BEN Drowned appeared within the screen, glowing eyes staring curiously at you in the dark. “What’re you doing in there?” You asked

BEN climbed through the computer, hoisting himself out and setting his feet onto the floor. A puddle of water was forming around him, but you would scold him for that in the morning

“I heard you gasp. Are you okay?” BEN whispered

His red eyes squinted subtly when he noticed the faint streaks of tears running down your cheeks

“Oh,” you chuckled nervously. “I had a nightmare.” You waved it off like you weren’t still spooked by it or anything

BEN didn’t look convinced

You shook your head slightly, gazing upon him through teary, sleepy eyes. “It’s dumb.” You whispered with a sad smile

BEN felt stiff and awkward. Probably didn’t help that he was dripping all over your nice floor either. Something in him felt a bit pitiful at the glum features on your face, with your breathing still a little quicker than normal also

A loud silence fell upon you two. You adverted your eyes, an embarrassed blush creeping up your neck. Just when BEN thought he was absolutely useless in comforting you, an idea sprung into his head

“Wait here.” He uttered quietly

You watched in confusion as BEN vaulted himself back into your computer screen. He was only in there for a few moments, before popping his head back out with a mischievous grin. His smile was contagious, because one was forming on your own face too

BEN disappeared within the screen one more time, and you only grew more curious. What was this silly boy doing?

BEN finally climbed fully out of the computer again, holding something behind his back. Before you could ask, he pulled the strange object out from behind and out for you. Your eyes lit up in excitement and wonder

This was no mere object. What BEN held out for you was a cute little character from one of Sally’s video games. It was a pink, robotic dog made from glowing pixels. BEN stole it straight from the game’s code, just to comfort you. You let out a happy little gasp when the fake dog barked gleefully, wagging its tail impossibly fast

“BEN!” You squealed in a hushed tone. The pixelated creature leaped from BEN’s arms and into your own, licking you with its glitchy tongue. “Are you kidding me?” You laughed breathily. “This is freaking awesome!”

BEN smiled, glad you liked it. “He’s gonna have to go back into the game later. Sally would kill me if she saw he wasn’t there anymore.” He explained. “But he can stay with you for the night. He’ll keep the nightmares away.”

The pink dog curled up into your lap, closing its sparkly eyes as it drifted off into a fake sleep. BEN stood by the side of your bed, peering down at the video game creature proudly

When he least expected it, you leaned over and placed a gentle kiss to his bloody cheek. BEN’s creepy eyes grew wide as a blush spread across his young features

“Thank you, BEN. You’re a sweetheart.”

[gaily-daily-musings]

This is the second part of my billford portal era fic which you can read on ao3 here: (x)

Pls keep in mind this is an unfinished rough draft

Ford enters a contest of endurance. He's always held a good exercise regimen. He should fair fine. He could really use the prize money too. Sleeping outdoors holds its appeal for only so long.

He only had the clothes on his back, his leather gloves that had been in his pockets, and a pair of goggles which he'd stolen. he's had to scrap for food. Resorting to stealing more often than not and dumpster diving. He hates the way it makes him feel. He's been getting better at foraging though. But the risk that he may eat something poisonous is always a risk.

At the starting line he comes across a familiar face. Ford's mood instantly sours.

"God not you again."

If there's one person worse than Bill Cipher in the universe it's Rick Sanchez.

"Are you actually competing or are you just gonna steal the prize money?"

"What if I am?" Rick grins.

This man was like if you combined the worst parts of his brother Stan with himself. All ego and no morals.

“Perhaps you should try playing fair for once. Unless you don't think you can beat me?”

Rick's grin turns mean. “Any day of the fucking week pal!”

They gear up and get in line. Ford frowns at Rick's anti grav boots.

“That's not regulation! They are against the rules!”

"Jesus, as much a stickler as always. Newsflash asshole, everyone's cheating!”

Ford looks around. Indeed everyone seemed to have something on their person that they'd slipped into the competition.

“you really outta get laid. It'd loosen that stick up your ass," Rick snorts. "Normally I'd offer but I don't wanna die from nightmares courtesy of your demon boyfriend thanks."

Ford startles. "How...do you know about that??"

Rick shrugs and doesn't answer. How infuriating.

-

They race. A third party wins. Ford and Rick had been too busy fighting each other to notice.

Rick shoots a portal and grabs the prize money from the guys hands before disappearing. Ford rolls his eyes. Typical.

-

“You know you've never asked to use my gun to get home.”

"I don't…" Ford's mind draws a blank. He feels numb in the pads of his fingers.

“Not that I'd let you, mind you, but you've never even asked how to make your own.”

Ford's mind turns over like a pancake. Why hadn't he?

He thinks about returning home. To his empty house in the middle of the woods. Surrounded by anomalies he's already studied. And people who don't understand him.

He thinks about his research which had stagnated. Nothing left for him to do or see.

Does he even want to go back?

Ford's gaze drops to the ground. Was there even a point?

Rick sighs. "Fucking shoot me if I ever get that deep in self denial." he throws up his middle finger and walks away. “Till next time fucker!”

-

After several years Ford can admit to himself a few things.

It is out of some morbid sort of pleasure when Ford finds out that others seem to cower at the mere mention of Bill's name. To know that Ford alone openly defied this powerful being and actually got away with it was a little bit intoxicating. Ego boosting. He'd successfully stopped the portal from opening and pissed off Bill Cipher and then lived to tell the tale.

Back then, in the before, Ford had felt like he could do anything. Be anything. The world--the universe--was at his fingertips. And now...well he still feels like that. Not in the same way, but similar. He feels important in his mission to stop Bill once and for all. He feels like he's the only one smart enough and resourceful enough to do it.

Perhaps that's why they've started talking. Him and Bill. Why Ford even allows it. Because he's unconsciously separated himself from the rest of the galaxy just like he had with humanity on earth. Plus a wise man once said to know thine enemy.”

They argue a lot. But they keep coming back to one another. Year after year neither one loosens their grip on the other.

It's always in the dreamscape. Never in person. They've made a place for themselves there.

They talk about sacrifice. Ford learns that people have sacrificed to Bill before. Offered him their blood. While Bill found blood useless, he found it fun to play with the insides. He thought it was fascinating how fleshy species worked. He would examine the heart, the liver, and pull out the lower intestine. And if they didn't offer willingly, Bill took one anyway. He knows intimately how over 4,878 different species of biology worked. A sacrifice was a chance to learn. And perhaps to have a new toy with permission to rip open.

Ford finds it all horrible. But also unfortunately fascinating. The people he was currently staying with were a subsection Cipher cult. They'd initially captured him, but now they treated Ford with respect. He pretended to be a follower by showing off his tattoo. He hated showing it off let alone acknowledging it, but this was an exception. He'd rather not be killed and eaten thanks.

Across the dimensions, those who swore loyalty to Bill Cipher were either dangerous, insane, or both. Most criminals who associated with him tended to do so sparingly. But the most loyal Bill referred to were his henchmaniacs. they lived with him in the Nightmare Realm. None ever ventured there. These cult people, however, weren't Henchmaniacs. They lived outside Bill's realm.

The rituals are all nonsense as far as he could tell. Ford couldn't believe how ridiculous it was. He wonders if Bill ever crashed these things like a frat boy at a house party. Hopefully not.

Had Ford ever been this cringey in his worship? He winces. He gets why fiddleford had been so fed up now.

They give him a room and a bed. A real bed. It felt luxurious. he knows he can't stay for long or else Bill would come and find him. But he still drags his feet about leaving. the way these people looked at him, like he was important, was intoxicating. No wonder Bill favored this tribe.

Still the sacrifices were wrong. Bill didn't need the blood! Why make them keep doing it?

They get into an argument about morality.

"I don't understand why you need to take over the universe! Why can't you find a new peaceful place to live without hurting anyone?"

"Of course you don't understand you're just a human!"

"Why can't you be happy with what you have?"

"BECAUSE I HAVE NOTHING!" Bill's voice booms like a thunderclap. Ford covers his ears. "You have to scrap and lie and cheat for everything in this world Sixer! People don't just hand you what you want on a silver platter!"

Bill is heaving.

Ford lets his hands fall. His words echo. No, people don't just give you what you want. But Bill did. He offered Ford everything. Everything he ever wanted. His dreams and hopes.

Ford is the only one Bill has ever been physically close to. This knowledge has always sat at the top of his heart. He hoarded it like a secret. It filled him with a sense of importance that he probably shouldn't feel anymore.

And he wonders…

Did Bill share that same light hope? Did he possess a secret joy that Ford was his and his alone?

It still amazed him even now, that this wild untamed creature would come down from the heaven's long enough to let Ford call him “His.”

Instinctively, Ford touches his upper left arm. The tattoo was always covered now. All of his body was. Once upon a time Ford was proud of his choice of ink. Bill wasn't even aware of it. He'd gotten it after the “flirty gal” disaster. Bill had thought that one was hilarious. As angry as Ford had been over that particular incident, it had given Ford the idea to get one that actually meant something.

He'd always meant to tell Bill. But somehow he felt too embarrassed to say anything when the time came. Like it would be taken as some declaration of love (even though it practically had been.) He supposed he was afraid that Bill wouldn't understand the significance of it. That he'd treat it like any other trinket that was made in his name.

"Sure that's great Sixer. But have you seen the pyramids? Best tribute anyone ever made me!"

He didn't want this sacred thing to be undermined. So he said nothing.

Some time after he'd fallen through the portal he'd only looked at it in anger and shame. Wanting to get rid of it but unsure how or who to ask. It would take money which he did not have. And he needed to save every penny for essentials.

Now whenever he looks at it, it feels less like a cheesy couples tattoo and more like a tramp stamp. It is embarrassingly over the top. And the more Ford stares at it the more his cheeks inflame. He'd known on some level what he was doing when he got it. And anyone else who saw it would understand too. This side of the portal he would just as likely be ridiculed for being such an easy target or thrown to the curb in distrust.

“You could have had me.” He finally says.

It's mortifying enough that that alone makes him wake up.

-

It is dark in the cell. They called it an oubliette. Ford's lock picking set had been taken along with everything else. What's so ironic is that he's starting to feel closer to his brother now, millions of miles across space and time, than he has in years.

It's pitch black in here. Its cold. Ford has never been scared of the dark. Has never shied away. Rather he wondered the sorts of things he would find. The secrets he could uncover.

There had been a moment in the cave, after he finished the summoning incantation, that his light had gone out. Nothing happened. But he didn't feel quite as disappointed as he thought he would. The darkness felt almost comforting.

Then the eyes opened and kept opening. Hundreds it seemed. All staring at him. Watching and waiting. He didn't feel unnerved or apprehensive. He felt rather special. That these eyes would turn towards him.

Ford sighs. He could call him. Call Bill for help. He has avoided doing so for 10 years though and has never once admitted defeat. But he's been here for months already. His frail body feels ready to snap. He calls him.

Bill appears in his mind. They're in a library. In truth Ford can conjure any background he wishes. It's his dream after all. But he finds comfort in familiarity. And he has always been most comfortable in a library. Sweet grass under his feet and stars above his head.

Bill floats near him but keeps his distance. He's as weary of Ford as Ford is of him. It could be a trap.

“I need you to get one of the guards to give me a set of keys.”

Bill is not so ready to help. Why should he? What does he get out of it? He's known Ford was here for a while. But he thought a punishment was in order for his human. Served him right for continuously defying him.

“I'm not helping you with the portal.” Ford growls. “And I'm not joining you! Other than that, name your price!”

Bill's eye squints like he's smiling. It was cute the way Ford tried. As if anyone could intimidate Bill Cipher.

Bill makes a show of thinking about it, humming loudly.

“Let me see you.”

It had been quite some time since last they did something intimate. A long time.

“Seriously?”

“You call my name a lot in your sleep. Could be taken the wrong way Fordsy.”

Ford blushes angrily.

Bill stretches into a human form. “I think you rather liked it last time.” He winks.

Ford undresses. He doesn't look at Cipher while he does. He pretends his body isn't responding to the attention. Pretends he doesn't want this. That he doesn't ache for it.

Bill holds him down, having gone eerily quiet. The silence unnerved Ford. Bill was never quiet.

Then a claw touches his back. Tracing up and down. It hits Ford like a comet to the face. The tattoo.

Bill had known. He'd known since that first time in his dream where Ford had felt fuzzy and unreal and Bill laid him out like a feast.

Why hadn't he said anything? No, Ford knows why. Anything would have been taken as a taunt. He would have immediately rectified the mistake had Bill pointed it out.

Ford made up all kinds of excuses. But at the end of the day, he could have gotten rid of the tattoo if he'd really wanted to. The truth was that it brought him a sense of purpose. Bill Cipher was out there and Ford would stop him one day. It was a reminder. They were still held together by destiny.

Something presses against him, hot and burning. Bill's hum thrums throughout him.

"I knew you were still mine." Bill's voice is pleased. The note of possessiveness makes Ford's toes curl.

-

After breaking out of prison Ford takes up with a group of scavengers. He's only been with them for a few weeks before Bill crashes it. as they're out foraging an abandoned spacecraft for parts, Bill takes over someone's body. Ford is a little ways away from the others so they don't notice.

“Bill! What are you doing?! Stop this!”

"Hey Fordsy look how wide I can open my mouth!" he unhinges the jaw.

Ford can practically see the creature's intestines. He grimaces.

Whenever he possesses someone, the gold in his eyes always seems to shine through. Like rays of the sun peeking through the curtains, the physical body unable to contain all of his magnificence.

Ford would be more angry about this, and he is, but he can't risk revealing Bill to the rest of the group. No one ever took kindly to finding out Ford used to be a follower. And no doubt Bill would tell them.

"They're planning on screwing you over by the way."

"What?"

"You're the newbie. They get someone to do all the hard work and then ditch them the first chance they get."

Bill could just be lying. Trying to drive a wedge between him and the rest of the crew. But it wasn't as if they were all buddy buddy. And Ford had a strict policy he adhered to: trust no one.

Bill wanders over to the rest of the group despite Ford's protests. Bill starts trash talking the crew, making everyone antsy and mad.

Ford hisses at Bill to stop but it only eggs him on.

“What's gotten into you?” One growls at Bill.

“Nothing! Just realized I hate all of you! You're lazy and stupid and ugly!”

Bill expects the punch. He doesn't duck. The body is flung backwards, hitting the ground hard. Bill starts to laugh.

Ford, feeling guilty for the body Bill was possessing, steps in to help defend him. As if by Bill's design, they start fighting the rest of the crew together. None of them have the intelligence to realize their friend is possessed nor the patience to soften their blows.

It gets to the point where Ford knows they have to retreat. They fall back to the ship. Bill jumps into the cockpit and starts the engine.

“What are you doing?!”

“Stealing the ship! What's it look like?”

Ford looks back at the rest of the crew banging on the doors demanding to be let in. On the one hand, Ford didn't like the idea of just stealing from them. On the other, none of them were particularly good people and were self proclaimed thieves themselves.

He collapses in the passenger seat as Bill hits the accelerator. He feels a hysterical bubble of laughter push up his throat. Bill joins in and soon they're both laughing. Ford is bruised and bloodied and his head is killing him.

Bill is insane. Ford has always known that. And yet even back then he'd always loved that spark.

"You know," Ford says slowly, "this kind of suits you."

And he means the whole not terrorizing entire populations and tearing apart the universe kind of thing. Just them and their inside jokes. Brilliant minds sharing space.

"Of course I look good!" Bill says with a swagger. "I can pull off any meat sack I wear!"

That had been so far past the actual point Ford was trying to make, but his lips pull up unbidden try as he might to fight it. And then he's smiling openly at Bill Cipher. Laughing at his horrid humor. Bill grins back, like making Ford chuckle is the highlight of his day. He preens at the attention. At Ford's attention. And it just makes Ford want to look at him more. To give Bill whatever he wanted. It's a dangerous feeling.

He should probably tell Bill to get out the body. He feels kind of bad for hijacking the ship as it is. The least he could do is make sure this person wasn't stranded on some strange planet.

But Bill crosses his arms and huffs. "Don't wanna."

Ford sighs. This was going to be a long ride.

-

"No one wants to hold a rose with too many thorns."

The fortune teller's words haunt him. Aside from Stanley and Fiddleford, Stanford had never been close to anyone. It was pathetic. A whopping number of two people in the entire universe. Something had to be wrong with him.

Family was supposed to like you, so did Stanely even count? And Fiddleford had a golden heart. He got along with literally everyone in college. Even the fraternity brothers. They often invited him to socials. Though Fiddleford would turn them down to study with Stanford.

It's moments like these when Ford looks back and wonders whether Fiddleford had done so because he actually wanted to. Or if he stayed holed up in their room to keep Ford company because he felt sorry for him. Because he pitied him.

It was true that Ford had never had the best track record with people. Most of the things he said went over their head. And they never seemed to get his humor either.

Ford threw himself into his books and learned to be content with that. Knowledge was so much more satisfying in the long run. You could always count on numbers and math. But people were unpredictable. People were mean. They were rude and loud and they made fun of his hands.

Stanford has always assumed that it was other people that was the problem. But as he remembers the fortune teller's words at the fair, he thinks back on all his interactions. Was he the problem? Was Ford the one who looked down on others? did he roll his eyes when someone said they were a liberal arts major? Was he the one that used obscure references to historic scientists and scoffed when someone didn't get it?

Ford covers his face and rubs at his eyes. He feels like an ass.

The thing is, Ford doesn't know how to be around people. And for the most part they don't know how to be around him either. Should he say this? Should he say that? Should he point out the weather?

It had been so easy with Bill. Of course, a lot of that was because Bill was just pretending, but even now it was eerily easy to fall back into that rhythm. He feels himself losing sight of his mission. Of what matters.

-

Reverse Falls dimension

Traveling across dimensions, Ford comes across a place that is all backwards.

Bill, or rather Will, has been captured and tortured for years. The other Ford owns the demon and lets the kids play with him for their act in some kind of tent of telepathy.

It's horrifying. Seeing how callous he was capable of being.

The other Ford is friendly with him at first. Gladly inviting him in to sit and talk with him. Ford asks him how to do it. How can he defeat Bill?

The other him tells him that he has to make a weapon. Binding Bill in the same way that he did with Will won't work. Will was an idiot. Bill won't be tricked as easily. the other ford tells him all the materials and how to get them. Ford thanks him.

Before leaving the other him invites him to stay for a show.

“I insist.”

So Ford stays.

It's awful. It's degrading. It's humiliating. He tries to sneak out in the middle of it and just go. He makes it outside. As he rounds the tent to the back, he overhears other Ford talking with his brother Stan. They were arguing.

Apparently he thought this little sideshow was smalltime. They shouldn't be using Will to make money. He was a powerful demon. They should be using him for to take over government and rule the world for example. Stanley was so small minded. Keeping to this backwater town and making chump change with his little Tent of Telepathy act.

He's spotted. Ford freezes.

“Skipping out are we?” other ford says.

“No i…i mean i, um, was just looking for the bathroom.”

Stan glares at him. “Didn't like the show? I put. A lot of work into that you know. Least you could do is watch the whole performance.”

Ford starts backing up. They follow.

“Well it's–I mean it's just a little much for me i think. I'm not sure I was prepared to watch children saw a demon in half.”

"What?” Other Ford asks. “It's not like he has feelings."

The fact that those words are said from a face matching his own horrifies him. Ford has thought that same exact thing before. That Bill was callous and cruel and it was all he ever was and would be. That he did not care for others.

Ford remembers the crumpled form of Will on that stage. He was more or less the same being as Bill. Same powers, same form, same voice. Something had happened differently in this Cipher's past. Or perhaps not differently at all. Perhaps this version had decided to direct his rage inwards instead of out. He blamed himself instead of the universe for his troubles. For whatever it was that he did, the sadness was unbearable.

"He can feel just as much as you or me." Ford says lowly, vehemence rising in his voice. "Just because he looks different doesn't mean he can't feel anything! He has hopes and dreams and regrets just as much as you or I!"

Stanford looks at his double’s face and glares back. His face, his voice, his body, they were all ugly and twisted. "The only monster here is you!"

You.

Me.

Us.

The double pulls back. Blinks. Then breaks into a chilling laugh.

Chase scene

Ford runs. He'd no intention of getting captured here. No telling what these people would do to him.

He doubles back into the tent. Using the element of surprise, he frees Will. he takes the poor thing into his arms and races like a bat outta hell. He runs into the woods praying that they were shaped the same as his own back home. He knew where several good hiding spots were.

He retreats to a cave to catch his breath. Will trembles in his arms.

“It's alright. You're safe now. They can't hurt you anymore. You can come back with me! I can take you!”

The broken triangle shakes, similar to the motion of shaking one's head.

“I can't. My place is here.”

“It doesn't have to be!”

Will looks at him with a sad smile. “I always thought it had it bad, but it looks like I lucked out with my dimension after all."

Ford looks down at him incredulously. "How?? I never did anything like this to my Bill!" He ignores how 'my bill' feels on his tongue.

"It's hard to love you Stanford Pines." He cups Ford's chin and strokes his cheek. "I'd rather know exactly where I stand than be pulled back and forth."

-

When Ford travels back, it takes a moment to adjust.

Bill visits in his dreams as usual. But it's different now. Whereas Will did not hide his pain, choosing to embrace it, Bill hid his under a thick veil of anger and humor. Hating the universe and all therein. Raging and raging because he could. Because it still hurt and it would never stop.

"Heya Fordsy!" Bill says cheerfully.

Ford smiles back. "Hey Bill."

Bill pauses. He must sense something for his single eye squints.

Ford walks closer. He hasn't willingly reached out to him for over two decades. He very much wants to again suddenly. Despite the circumstances, it had felt nice holding Will in his arms.

"You ever think about wearing a tie? Instead of a bowtie?"

Bill reaches up to his little bowtie. "Of course not! Bowties are way more cool!"

Ford chuckles. "You should try it. Just to see."

Bill rolls his eye. He snaps his fingers and there it is. A little black tie. Ford slowly reaches out so as to startle Bill. He touches it. Then he tugs, pulling it towards him. Pulling Bill towards his face.

"See? Looks good on you."

Bill flushes pink.

-

In his quest across the universe he comes across a great being. He asks it one question.

“How can he defeat Bill?”

The axolotl does not answer. That is not the real question he wants to ask, it says. That is not the one in his heart.

But Ford doesn't know what's in his heart anymore. He walks away empty handed.

-

With every dimension he goes to, he finds himself returning to one being. All paths lead back to Bill. His thoughts twisting and turning until they were once again consumed by little yellow triangles.

-

Weirdmageddon

Reunion with his brother. Finding a kindred spirit in Dipper. Knowing that he must follow through with his mission to protect earth.

-

Bill turns the golden statue over. He literally had Ford in the palm of his hand. The world was finally at his feet and yet he was sitting inside. Staring at nothing. This should be his crowning achievement. Everyone was out there partying and having a great time destroying the local buildings and wildlife.

Bill places Ford down. He'd always imagined this moment. A glorifying triumph, a party lasting forever. No limits. No restraints. Finally he would be free. No one to hold him back or hold him down. The freaks, the weirdos, the outcasts, they would make the rules from now on. Let society crumble and be rebuilt.

When had he started to imagine it with Ford by his side?

Ford could have done so well. His human was an outcast too. Attracted to the unknown and the weird. They could have ruled side by side. Bill doesn't offer immortality to just anyone. He didn't do it on a whim. He genuinely wanted to give Ford the world. He's surprised by how much it hurt when Ford turned him down. It wasn't like he didn't expect it. Ford was too pure. For all his dark thoughts and questionable desires, Ford remained a good person despite everything. Despite the years Ford had remained firmly attached to his morals.

-

Piano scene

Tries to seduce him. Bill doesn't know what he's doing. Hadn't known the first time either, it just happened. Now that he's actually trying he feels unsure what to do. what are the right words he can say to convince Ford to join him? Are there any right words that even exist?

-

If Bill could not be the center of Ford's affection, he would be the center of his ire. It didn't matter so long as he held the man's full attention. He wanted to be so utterly wrapped up in Ford's mind he didn't want anything else leaking through.

"You worshiped me!"

Bill spats like an ex lover on a soap opera. He still doesn't understand where it was they'd gone wrong. hasn't Bill shown Ford for years that he's serious? Has he not chased him and helped him and sat and talked? He's been right here for 30 years.

Ford growls back at him, ever defiant. "There's plenty of other gullible people out there! Go bother them!"

"They're not you!"

The words die in his throat. They're not Ford. They're not him.

Bill doesn't want followers. He doesn't even want henchmaniacs. He wants Sixer. His smart, naive, annoying little human. As stubborn as an immovable rock.

-

Resisting him is just as hard as Ford knew it would be. but it's made easier with all the atrocities Bill was currently committing.

Bill comes at him with sweet words and promises. Then when that doesn't work, he comes with rage and threats.

Whenever Bill feels something, he feels it fully and without shame. When he is angry he is fire. When he is happy he is an explosion. And when he loves, it is all consuming. He doesn't hide it away.

Ford knows the truth. Of course he does.

Bill loves him. He loves him.

It steals Ford's breath and aches in his chest. He feels like he's being pulled apart and put back together in equal notions.

-

Erasing Stan's mind

In one fell swoop Ford loses both his brother and Bill. It cracks his heart in half.

-

Therapist

The axolotl has Bill making amends to people he's wronged. It's a very, very long list. He has to write a personalized letter to all of them.

Stan is fishing when a giant axolotl bursts out of the water and floats above the boat. He falls over and hits the deck. Ford runs up from downstairs. He stares at the great cosmic Axolotl.

“It's you.” He breathes.

The axolotl explains that Bill is currently his patient at the theraprism. Ford's heart twists. Bill is alive?

It then says that Bill has written an apology letter.

“It's your choice to read it or not.”

It leaves as swiftly as it came. Stan frowns at the note. Ford crumples it up and puts it in his pocket.

“I'll throw it away later.” He tells his brother.

Stan lifts a suspicious brow. “Why not do it now?”

“You shouldn't litter in the middle of the ocean, Stanley.”

-

“Bill? Stanford Pines has passed away.”

He continues drawing. That's all he did nowadays.

“Are you alright?”

“Time is an illusion.”

Ford was always both dead and not dead.

“We can talk about it later if you want. I'll leave you alone to process.”

There is nothing to process. He can go back and see him at any time. Just as soon as he got out of here anyway.

Bill's crayons break in his hands. He's been holding them too tightly.

-

Bill sits in his cell with his stupid scrapbook looking at his memories.

Curse them all.

Curse them.

Curse him.

-

“Bill?” His jailer calls. “You have a visitor.”

Bill ignores them.

“They said their name is Stanford Pines?”

Bill freezes.

He walks–as he can't float anymore–to the visiting section and scrambles up the chair to sit. Ford stares at him. His hands are clasped before him on the table. They're beautiful.

“Hey Sixer.”

“Hey Bill.”

[missybee-writes]

Shadow in the Dark: Chapter Four - Code Name, Farrah Fawcett

Genre: Sci-fi; Romance; Horror

Warnings: (eventual) sexual content; violence; gore; swearing; alcohol and drug use.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!OC

Summary

In July ‘85, an ambitious realtor sells the crumbling Creel house to a family looking for a new start.

Rose McAllister may be living in a grand and gothic murder house in a small Midwest town, but senior year in high school is the stuff of her nightmares: a last chance at a normal school year without being the odd one out, the sick girl, the weirdo from across the pond. Blend in, make it through the year, and make some friends. Stay unnoticed at all costs.

Hawkins, and one seriously loud-mouthed metalhead, is about to flip that carefully laid plan Upside Down.

Chapter one: Cursed

Chapter two: Munson Magic

Chapter three: Fearless

Ao3 link

---

“Never?” Dustin asked, his muffled squeal cutting through the quiet atmosphere in the study desk buried in the corner of the library, behind the physics and math section. “Not even once, not at all?”

Rose shrank away from the harsh stare of the librarian, whispering over the pages of the book. “Nope. Never heard of him.”

“Al Yankovic,” Dustin said, like he was talking about the President or the bloody Queen. “Weird Al. My Bologna, Another One Rides the Bus....Eat It? Seriously ? I thought you had MTV.”

“Sorry,” Rose said apologetically. “Is he funny?”

Dustin took off his cap and ran his hand through his curly hair; a memory from Monday made her own head tingle in sympathy the near scalping by Eddie, his rings intruding on what might have been a very romantic moment. Focus, McAllister.

“Uh, does a black hole emit Hawking radiation?” Dustin asked, completely confident in his own knowledge on the subject.

“Yes?” Rose bit her lip, trying to recall. “I take chem and biology though, not physics.”

Dustin’s mouth gaped open, braces glistening in the overhead fluorescent lights. He was weirdly charming. Something about him reminded her of Eddie. “Well, you should listen to his songs. His videos are hilarious too. Me and the guys, we laughed so hard when we heard I Love Rocky Road, it’s the best. Lucas pretends he’s too cool for it, but I see him trying to hold back his laughter. He can’t fool me.”

“Dustin,” she asked tentatively, chewing on the end of her pencil. “How did you get into D&D?”

His eyes brightened at her genuine interest and wondered how many people truly got to know the quirky kid, beyond his immediate friendship group. “Will and MIke were huge on it. They were best friends with Lucas since the first year of kindergarten, but I didn’t move to Hawkins until fourth grade. It was kinda hard for me to make friends. Zach was bullying me a lot, and he...” he trailed off, his mouth pressed in a thin line, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. “He, uh, kicked the crap outta me in the boys bathrooms, so I was upset, and Will came up to me and asked me if I wanted to be a magical spellcaster, and kick the ass of an ogre. And it was kind of awesome , and then we became friends.”

“I can’t even imagine the other guys without you,” she said, nudging his shoulder. “You’re like the heart of the group, and the brain too. Possibly the guts and the spine, and the funny bone. You’re all the good bits. But don’t tell them I said that.”

Dustin ducked his head and almost blushed, smiling like a goon. “I don’t know.”

“Well it looks like it to me,” Rose reassured him. 

He scoffed and waved away her compliment, with a weird little squeal that she found incredibly endearing. 

She was surprised to hear Dustin was the newest in the little friendship group. Where he went, Mike usually followed, and whilst Lucas seemed to be torn between Hellfire and basketball, he had an easy familiarity around the other two that spoke of long years of friendship and growing up with an unshakeable bond. Rose was fascinated by the way they understood each other's jokes and communicated without words. Envy burned in the back of her throat, for she saw in the freshmen boys what she had always longed for; someone who had seen you at your very best and worst, and who stood by you anyway.

It might be too late for Rose, but on the bright side, she wasn’t exactly alone, either. Dustin had been so thrilled at the prospect of helping her build a character that she couldn’t refuse his help, particularly when she knew so little about Dungeons and Dragons and the mechanics of the game. He was giving up his Friday lunch to help her.

Beyond that, the Hellfire guys said hello to her in the hallway, and welcomed her to the group. Tuesday and Thursday of this first full week at school had seen her at Hellfire’s lunch table; the first day, she was the complete focus of the lunch hour, much to her embarrassment. They peppered her with questions and stared at her until Eddie had to call them to order, requesting they back off and leave the lady alone. By Thursday, after she spent Wednesday hanging out with Robin, the Hellfire boys seemed to regard her as a permanent fixture, a piece of the furniture when she sat down at the table. Except for the pestering about her character, and harassing Eddie about tonight's campaign, of course. 

And Robin too, she was becoming a friend. She was going through a difficult time, clearly affected by the fire that killed so many people over the summer, finding it difficult to engage with her old friends after being right there during the tragedy. Rose could understand to some degree, she found it hard to carry on with old friendships after her illness. In a way, they could start fresh, a friendship with no before mall fire or before her surgery clouding the view of who they were right now.

Then there was their dungeon master, the leader, the glue of the club. The reason for her heart skipping a beat as she arrived at school each morning, searching for a telltale Chevy van or a big mane of frizzy hair, leather and denim. Her eyes scanning the parking lot, the hallway, or anywhere at all, really. The reason she lay listening to metal songs deep into the night, curled up in the window seat of her attic, examining every interaction, every glance and touch over the last week, trying to kid herself that it was just a new friendship, not getting her hopes up in case it was some kind of mistake, or he acted like this around every girl at school. But if she had any hope of concentrating she had to nip any thoughts of Eddie in the bud.

She turned to the sheets of paper on the study desk, her pencil twirling idly and drawing out a little flower-shaped spiral in the corner of the page. A character sheet, a chance to impress Hellfire tonight, and not appear like a silly, frivolous new girl with no clue what she was doing.

“Dustin,” Rose sighed. “I feel like i’m missing so much of Ceverra’s backstory. Yes, I was a noblewoman studying arcane magics at the Citadel, but what made me turn to necromancy?”

“Curiosity?”

“Maybe,” she hummed. “But the arc and the character have to be entwined, one feeds the other. You don’t just wake up one day and decide to raise the dead, you have to have a horrific reason...there has to be foreshadowing in her story. Maybe once we realise her backstory, we’ll work out why she’s here.”

“There’s an element of randomness to D&D play,” Dustin warned. “No one can predict the dice.”

“I still think she should have a good motivation. Something I can pull out when we get to the final villain in the campaign. A clue in her past, something hidden there all along that explains why she raises the dead.”

Dustin flipped through the pages of his Dungeon Master’s manual, one he explained belonged to his friend Will, who had just moved to California. He’d left behind his D&D books so they could play together when he came home for the holidays. The pages were weathered and dogeared, like they’d been used and loved for years. It brought a smile to Rose’s face; she too preferred her books that way. Lived in.

“Maybe we can find a magical reason, something happened to you as you studied to be a cleric,” Dustin rambled, concentrating on the pages.

“No,” Rose said. “It had to be a human reason, something tragic. I think...I think she lost her family. They were drained of life by a cult of warlocks or something, whilst she was away at the Citadel, and when she returned she found them all dead. She wasn’t there to protect her mother and father, and a sibling, a little sister maybe, so she turned to the dark arts. But it's doomed, because if she succeeds in raising her family, she will have become the thing they hate. In raising them, she kills herself, the Ceverra they loved. She turns to her old companions from the Citadel, including your bard and Jeff’s spellcaster, to aid her in finding an artefact she needs to raise her family. And gets drawn into whatever Eddie’s campaign is, before she can cross over that line and become a soulless lich. A last chance for redemption before she goes full chaotic-evil.”

“Shit,” Dustin snapped up. “That’s good. I think it works. Deeply personal motive, check. Dark magics, check. Reason for your joining the party, check. I think we have it, Lady Ceverra. We just need to determine how to spread your 27 ability points. You want three high abilities, three low. For a cleric, I recommend focusing on Wisdom and Intelligence. Plus, it kinda suits you!”

“I trust you, Dustin. Wisdom and Intelligence it is.”

He handed Rose the open book, and she searched the page, fingers tracing the scoring system; she made some notes and began to add some scores to her sheet. After ten minutes of diligent work, she handed him the character sheet; it felt like returning homework, except she suddenly cared for Dustin’s opinion more than any teacher, desperate for some kind of approval. She knew the kid was a genius, she knew he was Eddie’s protege, and somehow Robin knew him. All her favourite people seemed to regard Dustin highly. 

He leaned back in the chair, his Hellfire shirt barely visible under a brightly striped baseball-style short sleeved shirt, covered in some kind of novelty mathematical equation - probably a real one knowing Dustin - with a green Camp Nowhere badge newly sewn into the hem. It almost reminded Rose of Eddie’s battle vest, and she smiled like an idiot. Dustin idolised Eddie, she could see it in the way he deferred to the leader of their group, and copied some of his mannerisms subconsciously. 

“Okay, okay,” Dustin said positively, scanning the sheet. “The stats pass muster. I think this is gonna work. And the backstory kicks ass, like, you should be a writer.”

Rose felt herself smiling, and babbled dismissively. “Oh, I don’t know. I would like to study English Literature at university though. Maybe not cut out to be a full-blown author though...”

“That is so cool,” he said, head propped up on his elbow. “I’ve always been more of a math and science kind of man, but you’re a whole different kind of smart. Where do you wanna go to college?”

“I don’t know,” Rose faltered, making a strangled noise in her throat. She’d been so focused on achieving one single full year of school, one year with friends and normal teen experiences, that she’d put off thoughts of university. “I suppose i’d always imagined going back home, probably to London. Beyond that, i’ve not thought about it.”

“Well, you have plenty of time,” Dustin said comfortingly. “Probably two whole months, right? That’s if the application process is the same as here.”

Rose swallowed down her terror and turned back to the character sheet, where a large gap was left at the top. “Gareth is going to draw my character in art class today. He thinks the teacher won’t mind because he’s finished his assignment already. That way, it's ready for Hellfire tonight.”

Dustin looked at the sheet, with her neat, calligraphic script, his direction and shaping, and a space for Gareth’s impressive drawings. “You’re really going all out on this, huh. Eddie is going to lose his shit tonight, he’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” she said, trying to contain a gleeful grin. Since Monday’s beautiful, disastrous near-kiss, she hadn’t been fully alone with him. The closest was those two whole lunch hours at the Hellfire table, Eddie saving a seat next to him and pulling it out like a true gentleman, each of them sneaking dreamy-eyed glances at the other, careful not to be caught staring for too long. It was like a game of tag, a thrill of electricity each time they made eye contact.

White noise crackled in the quiet of the library, a muffled sound of something electronic, like white noise from a radio. Then out of the noise came a single word.

“Dustin?”

Rose went still, trying to locate the noise, but Dustin exploded into action,ducking under the table to get to his backpack, knocking over all his stuff in the process.

“ Is this thing even on? God, this is so stupid. Dustin, if you’re hearing this, it’s Steve. We have a code red. I repeat, a code red.”

“Shit,” Dustin hissed, fumbling about with his bag. He’d dropped to all fours on the beige floral carpet of the library, eyes sweeping the room for anyone watching: all clear, the place was quiet at the end of lunch, no one in their right mind would sacrifice their free period for more time around books. Except Rose and Dustin, clearly.

He retrieved a brick-sized hunk of plastic and metal from his bag, a walkie-talkie, pulling out a foot-long metal antenna from the top.

Dustin pressed down the walkie’s button, putting the mouthpiece close to his face. “This is Gold Leader. State your code red. And by the way, I told you, code names only . Also, you should bear in mind i’m in earshot of a civilian. Over.”

The combination of Dustin’s deadly serious demeanour, and his position on his knees by the library table clutching a walkie-talkie was so funny, she could almost laugh. But she really, really wanted to hear what he was saying, so leaned forward over the pencils and D&D handbooks, quiet as a mouse and straining to hear.

“Come on, not the code name. Seriously?”

“I’m deadly serious. And we spoke about this, you have to end with over . Over.”

The crackling went on for a couple of seconds, before a defeated voice came out again. “This is Farrah Fawcett, reporting a code red. There, you happy? Uh, over, or whatever.”

“I acknowledge your call sign, Farrah Fawcett. What is your code red? Does it involve any encrypted messages in other languages? Over.”

Encrypted messages? Rose was clueless, but already hooked. 

“No, Dus- I mean, Gold Leader. So Keith is busting my ass again. He says if I can’t work out which section of the video store to shelve This is Spinal Tap, i’m fired. He is so unreasonable! Over.”

Dustin growled. “We talked about this Farah Fawcett, this is not a code red. A code red is a life-threatening emergency. Or at least something that involves being so grounded that I won’t see daylight until i’m in college. Please keep this channel of communication open for genuine emergencies. Over and out.”

“Dustin, he’s gonna fire me! My dad is going to kick me out of the pool house, and then i’ll have to move in with my Aunt Josephine in Cincinnati. Is that code red enough for you, huh? No more rides to the arcade, no more free popcorn or videos, no more babysitting duties. Do you want me to suffer? Do you want Robin to suffer?”

Dustin made eye contact with Rose and shook his head, like he was forty, not fourteen, and the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Okay, message received. What was the name of the tape again?”

“Thank god. It’s called This is Spinal Tap, which is some British rock band, apparently. Cover’s got these guys with huge hair and guitars on it. I don’t know if I should put it in the documentary section, or the music section. He’s back in two minutes, so I need an answer, like, now. Over.”

“Oh shit,” Dustin said, his finger still pressed on the walkie. “My mom won’t let me see those kind of movies, Steve. But it's not like a music video, it's a documentary, right? Over.”

“You’re not filling me with confidence, Gold Leader. Should I go with Documentary?”

Rose scooted further over the table, into Dustin’s view. “Dustin, I know this one. I know it!”

“Wait, who is that?” The mysterious Farrah Fawcett - slash Steve - asked quickly.

“I’m with a girl, I mean a lady . Hold on a second Steve. Over,” Dustin looked up at Rose, eyes hopeful. He let go of the walkie and spoke privately to her for a second. “What should it be?”

“A lady? Hey, Robin doesn’t count you know. It’s Nancy isn’t it. Or maybe not, it’s Homecoming and she’s gonna be slammed with the committee today. Come on, Dustin, who is it? Is she pretty?”

Rose ignored the voice, thinking back to Monday. “It’s one of Eddie’s favourite movies. It’s a documentary, but a fake one. There’s no such band as Spinal Tap. Eddie said it was so funny he nearly pissed himself!”

“Huh,” Dustin replied, taking off his cap and mopping his brow. “He told you that? Jesus, that’s kind of personal. So it’s a comedy then?”

“Definitely,” Rose nodded wildly.

“Okay, but if you’re wrong, Steve and Robin are never gonna let me hear the end of it.”

She sat back, completely confused. Robin? What did Robin have to do with this?

Dustin turned back to the walkie. “I’ve conferred with my study buddy Lady Thorn, and can confirm the tape should be shelved in comedy. I repeat, comedy . Over.”

The static crackled. “Really? It doesn’t look funny. ”

“Just do it, Steve. I’ve gotta go, I think we’re attracting attention from hostile actors. This is Gold Leader, over and out.” He switched off the talkie, and sagged with relief, collapsing the antenna with a slap of his hand and stuffing it back in the backpack.

Rose sat back on the chair, mouth agape. “Hostile actors?”

“The librarian is giving me the side-eye,” Dustin explained, pointing subtly toward the desk, at the far end of the stacks. “I think she’s gonna kick us out.”

“Ms Miller likes me,” Rose assured him, returning to a whisper, just in case. “She’s obsessed with romantic English Literature, and I gave her my copy of an Elizabeth Gaskell book she’d never read before. She thought Mr Rochester was the pinnacle of a brooding gentleman? Oh ho, she’s yet to meet Mr Thornton. She’ll be swooning for days. No way she’ll kick us out.”

Dustin was bright-eyed as a puppy. “You really are a nerd, aren’t you.”

Rose snorted. “I thought that was clear already. Wait, you’re not getting away that easily. Who on earth was that? Is he your older brother?”

“Steve?” Dustin’s voice was so far it went into the stratosphere. He slapped his knee, laughing. “I'm so going to tell him you thought we were brothers. You know, we do both have fantastic hair. Maybe long lost cousins or something. No, Steve is a...friend, slash babysitter? It’s hard to capture with words. There’s nobody like him.”

“And you just go around with a walkie talkie, on the off chance you want to speak to this babysitter slash friend,” Rose said, suspicion creeping into her voice. 

“Sure. People do that, all the time. It’s really common in Indiana. Who needs a payphone when you’ve got a personal walkie? That’s free! Cause then you don’t need a whole stack of quarters,” Dustin shrugged his arms. “What? It’s practical!”

His voice went higher with each statement, until Rose knew he was covering something up. What an odd kid. 

“Right,” Rose narrowed her eyes. “If I didn’t have to get to class, I'd have a few more questions for you. But it's your lucky day.”

They got up from the study desk at the back of the library and slung on their bags, Rose carefully stowing away the character sheet between the pages of her math textbook as they swung open the library door, entering the hallway with its aura of enforced cheer, balloons and all sorts of glitter-laden signs announcing Homecoming! as if anyone in this school could forget it. Everyone congregated in the hallways, gossip and buzz in overdrive, like they could already taste the sugary-sweet tropical punch, feel the air thick with Aqua Net and cheap cologne, and  hear Indiana’s most middling DJ blaring out school-approved pop and light rock, a tepid beat that would fill the auditorium in just a few hours time.

They turned a corner and were met head on with a wobbling tower of boxes, shiny silver streamers spilling out the top.

”Excuse me, coming through,” a voice called out, muffled behind the decorations. 

“Hey Nance, hold on a minute,” Dustin leapt forward and took the top one, pulling it away and revealing a very frazzled Nancy Wheeler with bloodshot eyes and a don't-cross-me kind of glare.

Rose felt guilty for standing unencumbered whilst they carried heavy loads of decorations, so she followed them, running forward and opening the double doors to let them into the auditorium.

“Thank you guys,” Nancy said breathlessly, stacking them on a table and directing Dustin to do the same. “I would have collapsed in the hallway without you. Wait, Rose? I haven’t seen you since last Friday, I was going to check up on your first week but you’ve been a hard woman to find. I checked the cafeteria but you weren’t there.”

“That’s nice of you. I was a little busy today, Dustin was helping with a project in the library.”

Nancy’s face screwed up. “Dustin? Well he is a great tutor, he was always the best at math and science, better than Mike, but don’t tell him that.”

Dustin looked smug. “Mike’s known since the seventh grade, that secret is out. But it wasn’t math or science, it was something a little more fantastical , if you get my drift.”

Nancy looked between them, realisation coming to her at last. “Oh my god, did he rope you into Dungeons and Dragons? Just remember those sessions go on for hours . Sometimes the whole day. And I would get so tired my eyes would blur, and I couldn't even see the dice anymore.”

“Amateur,” Dustin said under his breath. “And it was not I that did the roping. It was Eddie.”

“Munson?” She asked, confused. “Isn’t he a little...aggressive?”

“Not at all,” Rose said immediately. “Not even a little bit.”

She could only picture Eddie smiling; slow, creeping smiles that turned up his lips and lit up his onyx eyes; wide, manic grins that cried out joy and enthusiasm; and those smiles that were infectious, laughing wholeheartedly at Dustin or Gareth’s antics. The way he held her hand in the woods, gripping it like she could possibly let him go. The way he cradled her cheek, like she was made of fragile glass. How in the nine hells of Asmodeus could Eddie Munson be called aggressive? Okay, if you were shallow you might see the hair and the jacket and the wild charisma, but when did clothes become more important than who was under them?

“Okay,” Nancy replied eventually, a thoughtful quirk to her head. “You guys can go now, thanks for the help. I’ve roped in Fred to help with the last of the decorations. He’s not on the homecoming committee, but he’s volunteered to help anyway.”

Rose and Dustin said goodbye and headed out the door; the kid waited until the door closed firmly behind them before leaning into Rose, making sure no one was in earshot before speaking low into her ear.

“Fred Benson is not helping out of charity. He’s totally in love with Nance,” Dustin dished the dirt. “He follows her around like a little puppy dog, it’s kinda sappy.”

“Which one is Fred?” She whispered back, wary of insulting any of the guys in the hallway.

“Glasses, blonde hair, has a scar on his face. He’s in the school paper with Nancy.”

“And Nancy doesn’t like him back?”

Dustin chuckled. “Seriously, if you want gossip you should hang around more girls...not including Robin. It’s complicated. Fred is in love with Nancy, but her boyfriend Jonathan - Will the Wise’s older brother - just moved to California so they’re long distance now. But Nancy’s ex Steve still has a torch for her.”

Rose gasped. “Walkie-talkie Steve?”

“Yeah!” He squealed gleefully. “They dated in Nancy’s sophomore and Junior year, but broke up because she fell for Jonathan. It was a whole thing.”

“Wow,” Rose tried to keep up. “So half the school’s in love with Nancy Wheeler. Noted.”

Dustin’s skin flushed. “I may have liked her for a little while, but that was just a silly kid thing. And it was B.S.” Dustin saw her confusion and made a wild little gesture. “ Before Suzie , of course. You’re right though, half the school is in love with Nancy. And the other half is in love with Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy...Rose had biology and English with the cheerleader, whose forlorn aura and sweet smile made her stand out against the bolder, more brash girls who hung about in those cliques, circling about the basketball players. Her anxiety flared again, the sudden memory of Andy and some unnamed meathead insulting her on her first day, calling her kinda fat , in comparison to Nancy the broom handle . It was insulting to both of them, to women in general, and it brought out the self-doubt she’d tried so hard to bury. 

Don’t do it, Rose, don’t do it .

“So,” she said, pretending to be casual. “Which half are the Hellfire guys in?”

“Ew, gross,” Dustin said immediately. “Some of us are basically related to Nancy, or at least it feels like it now we’ve grown out of any middle school crushes.”

One thing Rose had determined over the last week, and was fairly certain of, was that Gareth, Jeff and Chris knew something was up between her and Eddie. Gareth’s smirk was too smug, his eyes too watchful when she sat next to Eddie in the cafeteria. Mike and Lucas she could see were observant too, but Dustin? Dustin seemed to have no idea. Or if he did, he was an incredible actor.

She fidgeted nervously with the end of her French braid - which was totally a coincidence, not that she could be more easily held or kissed or whatever by a certain metalhead covered in snaggy silver jewellery - feeling like a complete idiot. “And the older guys?”

“They don’t like Nancy, I know that. I’ve definitely seen them looking at the cheerleaders. Eddie and Gareth had this whole thing about who was hotter, Trisha Miller or Chrissy Cunningham. Gareth said Trisha because of, well,” he shot an embarrassed look at her, “She fills out the front of her uniform, if you know what I mean. That was his whole argument: boobs. But Eddie said Chrissy had the delicate aura of an elf princess, which is far more gentlemanly. He’s so freakin’ cool. Don’t tell him I said that. I don’t wanna sound like a pleb.”

Rose’s answering nod was weak. “Got it. Not a plebeian. Just a regular old equite, a knight of the Republic, maybe even a senator. I could see you as a tribune of the people. Or a philosopher.”

“Oh my God you are such a nerd, Hellfire is lucky to have you. You know, I think Eddie likes having a girl in hellfire. But not like a girl , if you get what i’m saying. Not like that,” he gave her a signature gap-toothed grin. “You’re just like one of the guys!”

---

The brief space between her last two classes found her scuffing her feet on the floor of the hall, trudging to her locker without the infectious enthusiasm for Hellfire that she had earlier.

She stowed her books and the character sheet for later. Gareth’s drawing of the lady necromancer and cleric adorned the top of the page, an elegant figure in light leather armour and a cape, wearing a bone charm around her neck. Perhaps he’d focused too much on the boobs, it was looking a little...voluptuous. And the armour wasn’t really functional, far more decorative. Just like those stupid uniforms, come to think of it. Damn cheerleaders, with their nonexistent little skirts and bouncy ponytails, and -

“Whatcha doing, McAllister?” Robin’s head was right behind her locker door, popping up like a poltergeist in a haunted house.

“Jesus,” Rose clutched her chest. “Announce yourself next time. You’ll be the death of me.”

Robin gave her a toothy grimace. “Sorry. Come to think of it, that’s not the first time someone’s said that to me.”

“I’m getting you a bell.”

“Are we talking like a necklace with a cute little charm, or a full-on cat’s collar here? Cause i’m not sure I can be contained, you know? I once got locked in a gas station bathroom and I broke out in hives. The mere thought of being stuck in an elevator makes me wanna puke. Oh god, what if the lights cut out while I'm in there...”

Rose clicked her fingers in front of her friend’s zoned-out face. “Wake up, Buckley. You’re not in an elevator, or a coffin, or a locker, or anything confined. You’re spiralling.”

“Hey! Claustrophobia is no joking matter,” Robin fired back. She watched Rose heft her books into her satchel and slammed the locker door emphatically. “What did the locker do to you?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Except for reminding me of my existential dread, social awkwardness, and the fact that i’ll die alone surrounded by a thousand cats.”

Robin’s nose scrunched up. “Do you even have a cat?”

The two of them fell in step, traversing the busy hallways to get to O’Donnell’s last period English class. 

“No, “ Rose said. “But I assume the cats will be attracted by my sad, spinster aura, and flock to the house in droves when I end up pathetic and alone. Maybe i’ll emit a strong catnip odour. It will just be me, a gigantic gothic murder mansion, and an army of cats. Come to think of it, I did see a mouse in the pantry last week chewing on a box of Ritz crackers. I screamed and smashed my favourite Bagpuss mug, and i’ll never find another one of those over here. Perhaps the cat army could come in handy.”

“See?” Robin casually slung her arm around Rose’s shoulder as they walked. “Look at you, thinking positively. But seriously though, why would you end up alone and miserable? You have your family. And me too, I'm your friend?”

Rose beamed. “Of course you are.”

“And the Hellfire guys.”

Her mouth twitched. “Hmm."

Robin stopped in her tracks, almost destabilising them, retracting her arm from Rose’s shoulder. “It’s those assholes, isn’t it. Have they said something weird or insulting? Done something utterly stupid?”

“It’s really nothing,” Rose said dismissively, folding her arms defensively.

Robin had none of it. Her blue eyes narrowed until they were dark and stormy. “I knew it. Something is going on. They’re teenage boys, they don’t have the self awareness to know how irredeemably, stupidly immature they sound. Whatever it is, i’ll knock some sense into them. But I should mention that i’m a pacifist at heart and I don’t even know how to throw a punch,” Robin pondered something, pointing her finger when an idea came to her. “I could ask Steve! Actually, he’s kind of a punchbag, i’m not sure he could survive another blow to the head. The man’s gonna end up with amnesia or something. So not Steve. Aha! I know a scathing, very intimidating middle schooler that we could rope in for Hellfire-defeating duties.”

“Robin, i’m not sending in a child to fight my battles,” Rose insisted. “Wait, its not even a battle! There is no battle, i’m just feeling..off.”

Robin groaned and looked at her long and hard. “Hey, are you busy this weekend?”

She shrugged. “Hellfire is tonight. We have to finish by six, or the Homecoming committee will turn us out of the drama room.”

“I don’t think many people have the right school spirit for Homecoming this year. I know Linda’s going, which makes me doubly glad i’m not. But what are you doing tomorrow?” Robin asked hopefully.

“I have three hundred years of American history to memorise before Ms Baldwin’s history assignment. But I can do that anytime.”

“Okay,” Robin grinned. “I have to work Saturday until six, but do you wanna watch a movie after? We can choose something the Hellfire guys will hate, something sophisticated, something...intellectual.”

A warm feeling spread in Rose’s chest, and she toyed with the strap of her bag, trying not to sound too desperate. “I would like that.”

Robin slapped her own forehead. “Agh, but my parents have this thing, this dinner party with my Dad’s old college friends. It’ll be three hours of smalltalk, devilled eggs, thousand island dip, and charades. And sherry, who drinks sherry? There’ll probably be reels of photographs from Mimsy’s trip to Nantucket. A fate worse than death.”

“We could...we could do it at my place?” Rose said, feeling emboldened by Robin’s willingness to suggest a weekend hangout, something beyond prescriptive school time. “My mum and Jerry will be there, but they are quiet, and I have the third floor all to myself. It would be like they weren’t even there. You could even sleep over, if you wanted to. I know the house is a bit...dilapidated. But there are only four windows still boarded up, the rest have all been replaced. And no more leaks!”

She felt stupid even asking; she was eighteen, not eight. Do young adults even do sleepovers?

“A movie night in a dilapidated murder mansion? Are you kidding? It’s so whimsical!” Robin was excited, hands gesticulating at a hundred miles an hour. “If you stop by Family Video before we close, we can have our pick of movies, courtesy of a very special employee-perk a.k.a what Keith doesn’t know, won’t kill him. Plus you can meet Steve.”

Rose cocked her head to one side, thinking through the mutual friend everybody seemed to have. “I don’t understand how everyone knows this Steve.”

Robin grew shifty, fidgeting and looking anywhere but Rose’s eyes. “Just, normal places. Work, school. You know, where everybody meets everybody. Oh, and if he hits on you, just let him down gently. He’s had a bad year in the romance department.”

“So Dustin tells me,” Rose said. She zoned out as Robin nattered about Steve’s failed dates and some kind of scoreboard, because she spotted Eddie’s unmistakeable figure coming down the hallway, toward Mrs O’Donnell’s classroom door. 

Where others walked, Eddie swaggered. He was all gangly limbs, swerving around the corner as came into the corridor, almost knocking over other students, brushing off their angry looks or jeers with a middle finger or a scary face. But today, he actually had a book. Hell, he had two books in his hand, tucked against his battle vest. Rose had gathered from their few shared classes and the brief, staggeringly honest exchange in the woods on Monday that Eddie was not exactly committed to academics. He tried, he showed up most of the time, but he was often fidgety, overwhelmed or completely buried in his own head rather than the lesson. Yet she knew he read fantasy extensively and designed complex D&D campaigns that required a serious degree of storytelling. 

Eddie hadn’t seen her yet. He hovered by the door, face falling as he looked inside. He’d paused on the threshold of the classroom like he might still make a run for it. She should wave, she should run up and say hello...maybe they could sit together. Who was she kidding, she was definitely sitting next to him if the seat was still free, just like on Monday.

But now, thanks to Dustin bloody Henderson, every bit of her recent burst of confidence was put into doubt. What if he was looking for a cheerleader? Did he search for Chrissy Cunningham in the crowd, with her gentle Elvish princess aura or whatever else Dustin had repeated to her? 

Rose looked down at herself, her Live Aid t-shirt, acid wash jeans, and Doc Martens, and felt incredibly underdressed. Well, at least she’d blend in with the Hellfire boys tonight; it might not be an official Hellfire shirt, but it had a similar vibe. It certainly felt more her than the awful pink high-collared cardigan she’d thrown over a dress last Friday on her first day, in a desperate attempt to cover her surgical scar.

She was miles deep in desperate thoughts about her own imperfections compared to the gaggle of cheerleaders that hovered nearby, all seeming to take her English class, when Eddie looked up. Their eyes met across the hall, a single sizzling, sparking second of contact that almost affected her as physically, as the near-kiss, even though they were twenty feet apart. 

Eddie’s brash, confident personal bled out of him until he was like jelly, leaning against the doorframe for support, eyes bright and hopeful. God, she’d missed that dopey smile. It was no more than 24 hours since they last spoke, but in a single week of acquaintance a day was a long time. Too long. She hugged her copy of Poe to her chest, not sure if she should wave. Is waving too much? Too boring? 

Rose’s arm twitched before her brain engaged; her imagination ran away with her and she did a weird little curtsey, actually dipping at the knee and nodding her head; to Eddie’s absolute, crazy-grinned delight. He did a full-on bow in response, bending at the waist, arm spreading wide.

Her view of Eddie’s theatrics were cut off as Robin stepped into her field of view dramatically, her freckled face only inches away.

“Oh, i’m sorry,” Robin’s voice was teasing, vibrating with restrained energy. “Am I interrupting something here?”

Rose snapped back to her friend. “What?”

“Don’t you give me that , it’s me that’s asking ‘what’...as in what the hell did I just witness?”

Nerves hit her in the stomach, like she’d been caught with her hand in the biscuit jar. Just as she opened her mouth and ready to babble some meaningless excuse or denial, the shrill bell rang out just above their heads, Rose flinching and clutching onto her books.

Rose drew as tall as she could - still several inches shorter than Robin - and tried to look dignified and imperious. “I have no idea what you are talking about. A girl can curtsey if she likes, nothing wrong with it. In fact-”

Robin’s gasp was loud and drawn out. “Oh my god. You like him.”

Heart racing, palm-sweating. Rose didn’t like that feeling, it reminded her too much of being ill, and damn did all this fancying him push her close to that heart-fluttering feeling. She walked toward O’Donnell’s room, where Eddie had gone inside with all the rest of the waiting seniors. “I like all the Hellfire guys,” she whispered to Robin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Robin looked like a ripe tomato, red, cheeks about to burst. She was about to say something when Rose ducked into the class, using Mrs O’Donnell and her class as a shield, knowing they couldn’t talk freely beneath her bespectacled, scathing gaze.

She let out a deeply held breath, relieved and nervous when she saw Eddie in his usual spot at the back, winking at her and nodding toward the empty seat by his side. 

She could feel Robin’s eyes upon her back as she fled to the back of the classroom and took the empty spot.

“Milady,” Eddie greeted, mischief in his eyes. “I had to fend off an army of orcs to keep the spot free, so you’d better take it.”

“Orcs?” Rose raised a brow.

He shrugged and pointed with his skull-ringed finger toward the front of the room. Gareth was sat between two of the mathletes from the terribly named science geek lunch table, brooding, arms crossed over his chest and shooting Eddie dirty looks. 

She grimaced. “Oh no. I don’t want to piss off Gareth. He might stab me in the back during the campaign later. And i’m not sure if I mean literally, or in the imaginary landscape of the Icewind Dale. I could move, if it will make him feel better.”

Eddie leaned over, and put his hand on her desk table. “Gareth the Great will survive. In fact, he might just concentrate more up there without me distracting him. I’m basically inflating his grade from a C minus to a B.”

“So generous of you,” Rose smiled, staring at his hand, just a finger’s width from hers. “So now it’s my turn to be distracted? Didn’t think about my grades, did you?”

When she turned to face the front, Robin was sitting four desks away,  neck craned comically, keeping an eye on their interaction. 

Eddie didn’t seem to notice, his voice low as he replied. “What’s the worst I could do, drag you down from A plus plus to a measly A single plus? I get the feeling that you know more about this literary shit than Mrs O’Donnell ever has, and you’re just sitting amongst us mere mortals to pass the time.”

“We actually have a double plus at home, it’s called an A star, but...it’s silly really,” A shaky laugh came from Rose’s throat, one she silenced quickly when the teacher’s chair scraped against the floor and O’Donnell stood, surveying the students with a predatory gleam.

“You’re all looking forward to Homecoming tonight, aren’t you,” O’Donnell said gleefully. “Dreaming of corsages and slow dances. But before you scurry home and put on your fancy frocks and bow ties, you owe me something. Assignments.”

Andy the meathead slunk deeper into his chair, with a low, desperate groan.

“Yes, Andrew.” O’Donnell pointed at him. “I will be paying particular attention to your grade this semester. Come on now, everyone pass your assignments forward. Don’t forget, this will count as ten percent of your final grade.”

A whole room shuffled and produced stacks of papers from the inside of their books or their bags on the floor. Rose pulled out a ten page behemoth she had penned at home in the window seat of her attic room.

Eddie plucked out two creased pages from the inside of his jacket, and eyed hers with a nervous smile. “Jeez, did you write a novel or something? How long did that take you?”

Rose bit her bottom lip, feeling her face warm up. “Not that long. But the power cut on Wednesday night really helped, there was nothing to do but read by candlelight in my room.”

He nodded vigorously, passing their essays to the guy in front. “Cool, uh, cool image. Big creepy mansion, candlelight, rooms, bedrooms with...beds. Very gothic.”

“I suppose,” she said weakly. Better than admitting she had nothing else to do on a weeknight than delve into literary analysis in her bedroom, watched over by her wall of handsome musicians and actors pulled from the glossy pages of magazines.

“Wait,” Eddie burst out, head cocked to one side. “What power cut?”

“Thank you class,” O’Donnell interrupted them. “Barring Andrew, of course. If you can’t produce an essay by Monday you’ll be marked as a zero. Which somehow means, Mr Munson, that you handed in an essay on time. I think this has to be a first. I take it this one is yours?”

Mrs O’Donnell held aloft Eddie’s two-pager and she could see it was headed with an eye-catching drawing of a beating heart, anatomically correct...just like the one she’d sketched on his desk last week.

“That’s right, Mrs O,” Eddie said with a smug grin. “But be gentle with my heart, I don’t know if it can take another F.”

The teacher held it with two fingers, slightly away from her body like it might be covered in something unpleasant. “It’s certainly...something. I’m surprised you stopped staring at the cheerleaders long enough to read a single word of Edgar Allen Poe. Let’s hope you can keep it up.”

Oh shit. Rose wasn’t sure which hurt more, the entire class making disgusted noises and turning in their direction, or the sudden realisation that Chrissy Cunningham was three seats in front of Eddie, directly in his field of view. Chrissy was the only one that hadn’t turned around, like she was in her own world, picking at the beds of her reddened, bitten nails. Coincidence or not, it was enough to drain the confidence from her yet again.

“Fucking freak,” Jason Carver muttered under his breath. Rose didn’t miss that he looked between her and Eddie, seemingly just noticing the proximity of the freak to the new girl, his brain slowly ticking and putting together an association of some kind. Not that she cared for the opinion of a such a crowd-peddling narcissist, 

O’Donnell gathered the papers and swung right into the lesson, giving them three poems to read in silence whilst she marked the assignments at the desk, sipping from a mug of steaming black coffee. The woman looked up and snuck a glimpse at Eddie and her, and Rose just knew it. The woman had it out for him, big time.

Rose kept her head down, reading the page a dozen times and not taking in a single line of poetry. Sure, Eddie had flirted with her. Even she was clued up enough to recognise that. But was that because she was just there, literally walking into his domain last week in Hellfire? Was she a consolation prize? 

A grating, irritating noise sounded to her left. She snuck a glance past her makeshift shield a.k.a. notebook, and Eddie was downcast, pencil tapping incessantly on his book, completely wired and ignoring the book altogether. It was worrying, like he was disassociated from the classroom, not able to concentrate on the work, about to snap at any second.

Something clicked within her; he looked like she had felt, stuck in a bright, sterile hospital ward, tethered to bleeping monitors by wired electrodes stuck to her chest, worried sick every second that this was how she would die. That panic threatened her now, an urgent need to flee, her breathing coming hard. If this was how Eddie reacted to a classroom, no wonder his grades had suffered. No wonder he’d repeated senior year not once, but twice now. Rose was kind of in awe that someone would put themselves in that situation willingly, over and over again. She didn’t think she could.

Fuck O’Donnell, fuck the Jason Carvers and the Andys of the world, those that made Hawkins High a real hell for Eddie and those who were different. Rose made a silent vow to herself that she’d help Eddie get through this class, no matter what. Romantic weirdness aside, that smug bitch O’Donnell was not getting one over on them. Not on her watch.

An hour of silent reading later they were turned out of the classroom, collecting their assignments on the way out. Gareth had passed her something covertly and headed early to the drama room, to meet Chris and Jeff before the session began. And as Eddie hadn’t yet left his desk, Rose said a quick goodbye to a very perplexed Robin. Her friend was obviously about to explode with questions, but had to leave as the mysterious walkie-talkie Steve was giving her a ride to her Friday night shift at Family Video.

Eddie was last out of the class, face buried in his assignment. He saw her waiting, flipping over the page and pointing to a big, red D overlapping the sketch of the heart.

“It’s not much,” he said, squirming from her gaze. “But all I need is a D in Mrs O’Donnell’s, and then I should have enough credits to graduate. So it's better than an F.”

“That’s fantastic. Ten percent of the class, already locked down. Ninety to go,” she prattled nervously. “You felt compelled to actually read the story then? It’s as exciting as Tolkien.”

His confident grin returned slowly. “What can I say, I’ve developed a sudden interest in beating hearts and haunted houses. Both very metal. But what did you get, an A or an A plus? Oooh, don’t say a B, you couldn’t live with the shame.”

Rose stepped closer. “Oh, that assignment? Yes, it was an A plus, though she left a note complaining about the length and some of the source material being outside of the curriculum. But actually, i’ve been waiting to hand in my real assignment all day.”

He looked perplexed, brows furrowing, big doe-eyes looking around like he might find the answer in the corner of the room. “Uh...what?”

She produced a sheet of paper from behind her back, holding it up; her newly illustrated character sheet, Lady Ceverra beautifully drawn in monochrome by Gareth during his Art class, except for the red of her hair beneath a dark hooded cloak. It looked like something from a comic book, but less childish, more gothic. 

Eddie’s eyes widened until they almost popped from his head, scanning the drawing, surrounded by her calligraphic script with her character’s name, boxes full of stats, and alignment. “McAllister, what the hell? You did this since last Friday?”

His hand reached out to take the sheet but she pulled it back, planting a hand on his chest to keep his greedy hands away. “It’s a surprise. No reading it before the campaign, dungeon master. You’ll have to discover who Lady Ceverra is as we go through whatever you have planned for us tonight.”

She could feel the rumbling in his chest as he laughed. Somehow her hand had slipped past the layers of open denim and leather, resting over his Hellfire shirt, warm and solid chest right beneath her palm.

“Gimme,” he said, trying to snake his arms past her. “I see some seriously badass leather armour, and suspiciously low cut...did Gareth draw it for you?” He did a dramatic gasp. “Have you been meeting all the guys behind my back, McAllister?”

Rose’s lips twitched upwards. “Only Gareth. And Dustin; that’s why he was missing from lunch today.”

“That little shit. I thought he had the stomach flu. Give it, I wanna see!”

Rose twisted away, keeping the paper away from his grasping hands, surrounded by a curtain of his hair. “No, you’ll have to wait! Be patient!”

She broke away, dodging from him and stepping backward, running down the now-empty corridor with Eddie in pursuit, the place echoing with footsteps and their laughter. She felt like a kid again, being chased in the playground in a game of tag, without a care in the world. She rounded a corner and ducked into an alcove, letting Eddie run past. He kept going to the drama room, arms flailing, wobbling about like a goofball. He has such a stupid run that she couldn’t make it to the drama room door without a breathless cackle coming from her throat, alerting Eddie to her presence as he was about to burst through the door.

“What the hell?” He said, whipping around. “Your stealth must be off the charts.”

She raised the character sheet. “Try Wisdom and Intelligence.”

He bounded over to her like an over-eager puppy, chains clanking on his jeans, hair swishing manically around his face. “Oh please, Lady Ceverra. This humble bard only wishes to learn more about you.”

Her laughter slowed down, became more of a low hum in her throat, finding herself with her back pressed against a locker and Eddie bracing his arm just inches from her head, not caging her in completely but overwhelming her senses.

She held up the paper, obscuring the lower half of her face with it. “Is it proper for the Dungeon Master to read a character sheet before a session?”

Eddie’s eyes were wicked in the gloomy hall, with half the lights turned off already. “I don’t know about proper. More, uh...insatiable curiosity, I guess. I just can’t help it. Not when it comes to you, Rosie. Will you show me who you are?”

This was more than D&D, the seriousness of his tone was clear. And the way he was ignoring the sheet, looking right into her eyes. Her hand dropped and limbs had turned to warm jelly, surrounded by Eddie, still not getting enough , her fingers and lips tingling with the need to touch, to do something phys-

“Oh shit, you two disappear for a minute and you’re getting all pon farr on the lockers,” a very pissed off Jeff said, emerging from the drama room. “Hey, that’s my locker!”

“Goddamn it Jeff,” Eddie gave Rose an apologetic look and pulled away from the locker reluctantly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Enough with the sci-fi references. Not everyone watches Battlestar Galactica.”

Jeff looked like he might pass out. “Woah, woah, woah...that’s Star Trek, not Battlestar. How could you, man. I know you're more of a fantasy guy, but you’ve gotta respect the greatest TV show on the face of the planet.”

“Alright, alright,” Eddie sighed and shepherded Jeff into the Hellfire room and looked back nervously, gesturing to Rose to enter. “If the Lady Ceverra will forgive the foolish jester back there, could I still tempt her inside? The party of adventurers won’t be the same without her.”

Rose peeled herself from the lockers, her back aching from the cold metal. “You can’t put me off now, Dungeon Master. But one question. What’s a pon farr?”

Jeff’s muffled voice called out from within. “It’s a Vulcan mating rit-”

Eddie leapt inside, suddenly filled with panic. “Shut it. Silence Jeff, I swear to god i’ll tape your mouth up if you don’t stop right this minute.”

---

“Your quest has led you to here, every tavern rumour, bribe and threat to the wizards of the Citadel has proven right. The burial mound slopes gently in the wooded hollow, weathered by storm and wind and frost over eons of time, now smothered in vines and moss. The entire mound emits an aura of magic, intense magic. There are wards placed to keep out magic users like you. What’s inside, you ask? Oh, I don’t know, you’ll have to find out yourself by exploring the dark, dank tunnel crumbling into its side. Damp air, thick with mouldering earth, stale with decay, lingers at the tunnel mouth. Do you dare enter?”

When Eddie, reclining on his throne with goblet in hand like he was at a bacchanal, finished his monologue, the party looked at each other one by one. Gareth flexed his knuckles like he was faced with a physical fight, Dustin was nodding vigorously, and Lucas tightened the bandana around his forehead, like he was Rambo himself. 

“Do you even have to ask?” Chris said scathingly. “Each one of us has bled for this moment, dungeon master. I, Thordus Boulderbash, enter the tunnel with my axe-”

“Wait, we’re the Circle of Eight, remember?” Mike prompted him. “We’re playing as wizards for the beginning of the campaign.”

Rose leaned forward onto her elbows. “Wait, why is that? I spent so much time on Lady Ceverra, I was looking forward to playing her.”

Eddie raised his goblet, and threw his leg over one of the arms of his wooden throne. “Children, and milady , hold on. It’s all about trust, man. Let me guide you through this,” he turned to Rose, seated on his right hand side just like last week. “Sweetheart, I know you were excited about this. Just be patient. And in the meantime, you can make the wizard you’re playing now a cleric. You can still heal and eventually raise the dead.”

“Okay,” Rose sighed. “I trust you.”

Jeff muttered under his breath. “I’ve been scarred by Eddie too many times...I feel something big coming, something bigger than a demogorgon, man.”

Dustin nudged Lucas and whispered; Rose had no idea how all the younger boys acted when all three were together, so she just observed and assumed this was all normal.

“We climb into the tunnel,” Gareth picked up the narrative thread. “One by one, we get on our knees and crawl through the dirt, raising torches to light the way.”

Eddie rolled a dice behind his screen. He hissed and popped up, grimacing at them. “Sorry my little adventurers, that’s...a rockfall. You’re clambering through the tunnel and the roof collapses, causing ten damage to the last three people into the tunnel, sealing off your exit. Now, you’re trapped.”

Lucas moaned loudly. “Why did I have to go last? Last is usually safest. Wait - Rose, you’re a cleric, right? Can you do a healing spell? Keep up my HP?”

Rose’s brows raised, and she looked around the table. “Can I?”

Eddie nodded. “You can.”

Rose whistled with relief and threw a d20. 

“That’s a miss, sweetheart,” Eddie says gently. “You all proceed, damage remains.”

“I feel useless already,” she said.

“You’re level one, it’s kind of expected,” Dustin explained. “But look on the bright side! It only gets better from here. Sure, you’ll be slow, miss most of your attacks, and won’t be able to use your necromantic powers until you hit level ten, but you’ll get there.”

Rose tried to mask her disappointment. “Level ten?” 

Eddie placed down his goblet, sitting upright like a normal human for once. He waited, each second he purposefully paused drawing out the tension in the room. “Necromancer’s aren’t born, milady. They have no natural place in the order of things. The land of Greyhawke might be full of magic, but life and death, those are...immutable. And the power to raise something already dead back to life? That’s against nature. That’s something you earn with blood, sweat, tears and a mother fucking tonne of XP points. But when you get there, it’s...intoxicating, like a high,” he gave her a smile that travelled straight into her veins, pulsing warm and dizzy all around her body. “When the time comes, you’ll fucking love raising the dead.”

Rose cleared her throat and pressed together her legs, aware of a very distressing, very urgent pulsing in places other than her heart, hopeful that the other guys didn’t notice the flush to her skin. “So, um, why does it take a necromancer so long to build up to their attacks?”

It was Mike who answered, his gangly awkwardness long gone, confident in the game and as knowledgeable as Eddie. She remembered he was the younger boys’ Dungeon Master.

“Whether good or evil, a necromancer can’t just practice raising the dead straight away,” Mike gestured with his pencil to the board and the character sheets they all placed in front of them. “There’s not really a halfway to raising the dead, right? They will have to practice slowly sucking the life force out of people before they can make their first thrall - that’s the zombie they create, a thrall. So it might be like they’re sucking the energy out of someone for a long time, making them sick. Like...their eyes might start bleeding, organs sucked out their bodies.”

“I guess,” Lucas chimed in, with a grin. “But I think it's more psychic than physical. So they might feel sick and have headaches and shit, but they’ll look fine, until suddenly they’re not fine at all. The lich is hungry, and they need a snack before they have the energy to fully raise the dead. But once a necromancer has practiced enough? Once he or she has reached level ten? All bets are off. Their Raise Dead spell is like a nuclear bomb on the D&D board, a weapon more powerful than most other classes. They go from nought to sixty, killing and raising people as thralls left and right.”

Rose looked down at Lady Ceverra, at the drawing Gareth had finished this afternoon. The drama room spotlights and flickering pillar candles lit up a fighter in light armour, a cleric with healing skill, and one day, a necromancer. A thing of power, but with that power came the serious temptation of evil. Whether her character could resist all that temptation at level ten was to be seen. Raising creatures from the dead sounded fun, but she’d been dead herself, technically. Even if it was just a few minutes. Was she a thrall, bound to do others bidding? Or now she was alive again, was she truly herself?

The game went on for three hours, screaming, jeering, dice flying across the table. They encountered a horde of gargoyles in the burial chamber, losing Lucas to the creatures before the party could make it to the main chamber in the burial mound. Chris was slain at the burial chamber, inhaling poisonous spores, and their party became just five.

Eddie ducked behind his screen again and read through his meticulous notes, then he launched upward, standing on the throne, speaking down to them like a King to his subjects.

“You creep into the burial chamber. Runes on the wall are familiar, but older than any you’ve seen before, layered with a thousand years of dust. And all around a central sarcophagus are long given offerings of wine, incense, coin, and something even more sinister...corpses of animals, of people, pitchers of dried blood filling the air with the thick scent of copper and iron.”

“Oh man,” Gareth said shakily, hands buried in his hair. “I don’t like this.”

Eddie smiled, and continued. “A blast of air colder than ice, colder than death itself, ripples through the chamber. It sucks the very last breath from Dustin, killing him on the spot.”

“What?” Dustin threw his hat across the room. “What the hell, Eddie? I didn’t even get to roll?”

“Mike is next,” Eddie says, sinister, creeping toward the back of the boy’s chair. “Your lungs struggle, coughing and snapping something in your body, gargling on the sudden warmth of your own blood and choking to death.”

“Thanks,” Mike said, deadpan.

Eddie crept around the table clockwise, talking to each of his friends, and Rose got a vague idea of what was happening. 

“Jeff, you’re next. Death comes for you as swift as a knife in the dark. Then Gareth...ah, Gareth. Your power is obvious, your skill known throughout the land. But even you cannot face the forces of darkness and evil alone. You form a fireball with your hands just as the cold takes you, desperate for its warmth. Your body shrivels and hits the floor in an instant. But the light it casts illuminates the dark chamber for just a second...”

Eddie turned to her, his dark eyes wild, the candlelight flickering in their glassy depths.  “Lady Rose, the flare of light gives you just long enough to see a lumpy, grotesque shape emerge from the sarcophagus...a skeletal frame, grey-skinned, with white hair and broken teeth. He raises two gaunt hands toward you and snaps your neck with a single click of his fingers. And his last words? Hail, Vecna.”

“Jesus Christ!” Dustin flung his pencil on the table. “The wards weren’t there to keep wizards out, they were there to keep Vecna in!”

The guys made noises of shock and horror, Rose holding her breath, waiting for an explanation.

“Hold on, it can’t be Vecna,” Gareth said to the group. “The thing had two hands. We know Vecna’s left eye and left hand were sacrificed long ago, so this is just one of his followers, another necromancer. The fucking Cult of Vecna, dude. This campaign is going to break us, it’s going to kill us all.”

Rose was confused. She let them talk amongst themselves about the significance of the villains she’d never heard of before, but her eyes kept going back to her character.

“But we all just died!” She shouted, cutting over the masculine voices. “Isn’t that the end of the campaign?”

Eddie leaned toward her, palms planted on the wooden tabletop. “She’s right, you did just die, so let me finish. Rose, your wizard is dead, as are all of you. The Circle of Eight - which you were playing as - has perished in the tomb, releasing a powerful lich, a cultist of Vecna. But as each of you die, you wake in your mortal bodies. Rose, that means you’re now playing as Lady Ceverra, and everyone else as their own characters. Each one of you awakens with the same thought: Vecna will rise, and the Circle of Eight is slain, the last force strong enough to contain his evil already fallen. One thing each of you know is that you must find Mordenkainen, the Circle’s leader, the last hope for defeating Vecna and his cultists. The quest for Mordenkainen is next week, brave warriors. Get your characters ready, this is the start of my longest campaign yet, we’re talking months.”

“Holy shit,” Dustin cried out. “Vecna is going to be so tough.”

“I know,” Lucas shook his head. “Erica is going to be so jealous. She’ll pretend it's dorky, but she secretly thrives on shit like this.”

Rose felt so behind compared to the others, out of her depth when it came to the gameplay and technical knowledge. She smiled weakly and packed up her things with the others, blowing out candles and wafting away the smoke before the Homecoming committee barged in and accused them of smoking.

A hand appeared on her shoulder; Eddie, with his bashful smile, trying to stop her from tidying the room.

“Hey.”

She smiled back. “Hey.”

Wow. Thrilling exchange, McAllister. What next, how are you? Do you come here often?

Eddie crossed his arms over his Hellfire-emblazoned shirt. “So Vecna is basically the Witch-king of Angmar, once a king, kind of ascended to godhood but not really. So  maybe a cross between the Witch-king and Sauron?”

“Ah, my nemesis,” Rose laughed. “Because...because i’m Eowyn...from last week.”

Eddie blinked a couple of times. “No, I get it. Very appropriate. But Vecna’s a big deal, I hope you have fun. I mean, the whole point is to have fun whilst doing this. So if at any point you think it's boring or don’t wanna continue, please don't pretend and secretly grow to loathe and hate me for dragging you here. What I mean...I mean...”

Rose hushed him. “No one is forcing me to be here. I like it, your storytelling is amazing, and the guys are all fun.”

He seemed to like that, growing brighter as she spoke. “So you’re not going to Homecoming tonight then? No desire to put on a poofy dress and dance? You know, they’ll probably play some Duran Duran at some point. Your favourite.”

Eddie did a little tap dance across the drama room, with the guys in the background making groans of despair or laughing along as they saw him up to his usual antics. He looped around the table and came right back to Rose, bowing at the end.

“Is that how people dance at school events? Like their boots are on fire?”

“Nope, that’s the Hellfire special, dance like Satan’s watching you, and your feet are licked by the flames of hell itself.”

“Satan licks feet?” Rose feigned surprise, hand on her chest. “That’s a bit  kinky. I would expect no less from the dark lord himself.”

Eddie’s grin was a mile wide, and he bit his bottom lip rather sinfully. “You just wait until Halloween. The ritual sacrifice is so worth a whole year of red tape and consent forms.”

Chris made a disgusted noise in his throat as he walked by, putting on his own leather jacket and getting ready to leave.

Dustin, Mike and Lucas ran out, called by someone’s parents in the hall, probably Mike’s mom dropping Nancy off early for homecoming prep.

Eddie watched go fondly, and turned back to Rose. “Your Balrog isn’t here yet?”

“My mum? No, she’s relaxed her claws a little bit. She’s not very well, and my stepdad’s working late, so I get to take the bus. It’s quite exciting really, she’s been overprotective about it for years, like she thinks I need to be within ten feet of a trained paramedic or first aider for the rest of my life.”

Eddie’s frown lined his face deeply, mouth pursed and slightly open. “You’re getting the bus? But that doesn’t come for almost an hour.”

“I’ll wait. Maybe Nancy needs help with decorations or punch-bowl filling.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Nope. Nuh-huh. The carriage has plenty of room, i’ll give you a ride home if you don’t mind sitting next to Gareth for a while, his place isn’t too far.”

Rose toyed with her hands, fidgeting awkwardly. “Really? You’re sure?” 

“Deathly serious,” he replied. “No maiden roams the streets and takes the bus on my watch. Besides, we can continue your metal education, introduce you to a few new songs. I still have to build you up to Megadeath, remember?”

“Sounds...slightly terrifying. But thank you.”

He went a little shy, grabbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. “You never have to ask, alright? Just tell me when you need to get home after Hellfire...or school, or whatever. The van is at your service. And, uh, me too. At your service. Just, whenever.”

Rose could hardly stop smiling, a smile that persisted all the way through clearing the drama room, through Gareth calling shotgun as they walked through the parking lot, through Eddie insisting she get the seat closest to him, but only because Gareth’s house was first, so he’d need to be by the door.

The chariot smelled of cigarettes, weed, and stale fries. But Eddie opened the van door for her like a true gentleman, running to his own side and scooping up wrappers and all kinds of stuff that lived on the front seat, throwing it into the back frantically. She climbed in and buckled the seatbelt, examining the stack of tapes he’d shoved on the dash; Judas Priest, Dio, W.A.S.P, and Jimi Hendrix. 

Gareth crammed into the seat by the door, and Eddie took the wheel, engine roaring into life with an aggravated growl. 

“Hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen,” Eddie threw the van into reverse, swinging his arm right behind Rose’s shoulders to look out the back. The van jerked backwards across the lot, swerving around a corner so quickly the thing felt like it would flip over, rubber screeching on the tarmac.

“Jesus,” Gareth hissed. “Lighten up on the gas, dickhead.”

“Drama queen,” Eddie said sheepishly.

Despite clinging onto the seat belt for dear life, Rose was more focused on the arm snaking dangerously close to her shoulders, feeling bereft when he withdrew it. “So what’s next on my metal journey?” Rose asked. “Do I get something heavy yet?”

Gareth replied before Eddie could open his mouth. “Don’t let this guy brainwash you with his Dio obsession. Ozzy Sabbath is the best Sabbath.”

“I have nothing against the Prince of Darkness!” Eddie’s voice rang out shrill in the small van cab. “Lady Evil and Heaven and Hell just happen to be great songs, that’s all.”

Gareth chuckled sarcastically. “Better than War Pigs? Better than Iron Man or Paranoid?” He scrambled around and found a tape, leaning over Rose and shoving it in the cassette player. “You know Sabbath wrote Paranoid in under an hour, just to fill up the album. One of the greatest metal songs of all time was just Ozzy’s filler . How can Dio compete with that?”

Gareth punched the play button and the opening riff blasted in her ears, her hands coming up to muffle them.

“Sorry,” Eddie reached over for the dial and turned it down, swerving just a little as they came out onto the main road. 

“It’s a miracle you still have any hearing left,” Rose commented. Her knee bounced to the rhythm of the song. “I like this. Weird that he’s blaming his girlfriend for his craziness, but I can overlook it.”

“See?” Gareth said smugly. “Ozzy Sabbath is the pinnacle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie murmured. “Lady Evil still kicks ass. Dio has the range, you can’t deny it.”

Rose laughed and just observed ad the guys argued back and forth in the ten minutes it took to get to Gareth’s house, a split level ranch in a neat, tidy neighbourhood, the very picture of suburbia with manicured lawns, little garden gnomes and flower beds, and practical sedans and station wagons parked on the roomy driveways.

“Don’t forget practice on Sunday,” Gareth called out as he leapt down from the van. “You still owe me those extra drumsticks.”

Eddie nodded. “I’m good for it. See you later, man.” 

The van door closed and Rose was acutely aware of their proximity, and the fact that they were alone again.

“So,” Eddie grinned. “The cassette player is all yours now, milady. What do you want to play?”

She hummed, making a show of thinking intently. “Give me something heavy. I can take it, I promise. What’s your favourite?”

Eddie sucked in his breath and whistled. “Oh, I don’t know. Not sure if you can handle it.”

Rose pivoted in her seat, belt straining across her chest. “Is that what you think, hmm? I’m not delicate, trust me. Favourite song, give it to me.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “I...I, uh think I can do that. Maybe it's time to introduce you to Metallica. I mean, it’s only fair after I listened to about an hour of Duran Duran last weekend.”

“Hey,” she swatted his arm. “No one forced you to eavesdrop on my personal mix tape, Edgar Munson .”

“I knew you’d pull the Edgar card eventually,” he chuckled as they pulled out of Gareth’s drive, back on the road again. “I told you, restraint isn’t my strong suit, sweetheart. God, what do they all even do? Do they have instruments, or just stand around doing a little dance as they sing backing vocals for the main Simon Le Bond or whatever?”

“Simon Le Bon,” she corrected. “But stop trying to distract me, give me some Metallica.”

He grabbed a tape from the dash and tossed it over to her, an electric blue case, forked with lightning, with the band’s name in big letters. “Fast forward for a few seconds, press play exactly when I tell you. Keep going...now.”

Rose hit the button and a sonorous church bell rang out, followed by a heavy guitar riff, the sound filling the whole van. She let the music unfold, watching Eddie headbang and tap his ringed fingers on the steering wheel out the corner of her eye.

By the time the vocals kicked in she was nodding with him, bowled over by the incredible guitar work. It might be kind of a new genre to her, but there was something so atmospheric about it, unpretentious, out there...very Eddie. A drumline so strong it thrummed through her like a heartbeat.

Minutes later, the song faded slowly away, and Rose snuck another glance at him. 

“You like?” he asked, face vulnerable. “Don’t lie if it’s too much.”

Rose smiled. “I like. A lot.”

He let out a breath, sagging against the steering wheel. “That’s good.”

“So what’s next? More Metallica, or do I get to graduate to Megadeth?”

Eddie cocked his head in surprise. “As much as I wanna walk you through my whole collection, you know you’re home, right?”

She startled, looking out the window. They were parked on her vast driveway, sweeping up to the double-fronted house, the grey-blue faded paintwork of the gothic mansion fading into the gloomy dusk, bright lights in the first floor windows lighting the place from within like a great big jack-o-lantern. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She gripped her satchel hard, stilling her fidgeting fingers, leaning back against the lumpy van seat. “Maybe, do you want to...you could come in. I mean, if you wanted to.”

Eddie grabbed a handful of his hair and covered his mouth. “You want me to come in?”

Rose felt so utterly lame, so bumbling and terrible at talking to him, that she willed the ground to swallow her up whole. “Only if you want to.”

He leaned in, looking between her and the house. “I don’t think I should.”

Rose nodded vigorously, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the door, clambering out as quickly as she could. “Of course, no big deal. It's Friday night, after all. That was stupid of me to assume you wouldn’t have any plans-”

Eddie’s door slammed as she backed away from the van, and before she knew it he was out on the path ahead of her, palms held up like she was skittish and about to run away - which she supposed, she was about to do. “No, no, no,” he said frantically. “I mean I literally can’t come in. I, uh, I really want to. Like really . But I promised someone I wouldn’t, and I don’t want to break that promise.”

“Ah,” she said slowly. Oh god. This was the part where he admitted to having a girlfriend, wasn’t it? Someone less bookish, someone metal , who wore leather and listened to Megadeth every day with her breakfast. Not Duran Duran. God , she probably had a Megadeth tattoo. Complete fucking opposite of Rose. What the hell, she was probably a cheerleader too. A rocker-cheerleader, with blood red lipstick and teased out Joan Jett hair, and nipple piercings. Yep, an anti-Rose. 

Eddie sighed, frustrated, crossing his arms and pivoting about, feet restless. “I can’t be that guy, going back on my word, you know? Everyone expects a Munson to be a fuckup, a criminal, a cheat. I don’t wanna be like that.”

Rose laughed, but instead of careless and breezy it came out deranged and shrill. “I get it, Eddie. Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you in class next week.”

She dodged around him and marched up the path, towards the imposing house. Don’t turn around, she told herself, tears stupidly prickling at the corner of her eyes. Don’t look back. She fumbled with her keys at the huge door, the one with newly fitted stained glass in the shape of  a rose, of all things. Mum insisted it had to be a rose, she thought it was a lovely coincidence.

“Fuck it. Bollocking fucking fuck,” she cursed, keys clinking as they dropped to the floor. She bent down as the door swung open, the light inside bathing the gloomy night, a pair of tartan slippers right in front of her nose, attached to corduroy trousers, with novelty socks peeking out.

“Whatcha doing there, kiddo?” Jerry’s chipper voice said loudly. “Got the old butterfingers, have you?”

“Something like that,” she said, all the energy draining from her.

A car door slammed in the distance, and an engine roared into life, chugging away and fading within a few long seconds, all with Rose still bent down on the porch.

Jerry shielded his eyes with his hand. “That’s a strange looking bus to me.”

He left. Of course he’d left. She groaned as she stood back up. “A friend gave me a ride home.”

Jerry nodded, standing aside so she could come inside. “You’ll have to ask your friend to come in next time, I know your Ma would love to meet them.”

Her laugh was shrill, just like earlier. “Wouldn’t that be nice, Jerry. I don't think he fancied coming in for a cup of tea.”

“Maybe next time, eh?”

She sighed heavily. “Maybe next time.”

The entrance foyer to the house was a mess. The facade of the fireplace was fancy as hell - and who the bloody hell has a fireplace in their foyer? - but the metal grate was missing and some tiles needed laying. The huge sweeping staircase was in need of a good sand and varnish and two spindles were missing. 

Rose had never minded living in a construction project, the dilapidated state of the house had given it a romantic air, but tonight she saw what others must see: decay. Her imagination was running wild, wondering where the murder had taken place. Hopefully not her room.

“There you are, love,” her Mum pottered into the hallway, a cup of tea in hand, her face drawn and tired, blonde Princess Di hairdo mussed up and tucked behind her ears. “How was your day at school?”

Rose kicked off her Doc Martens and stomped across the creaky floorboards. “Still alive, so there’s that at least.”

“Don’t,” Mum said, a hint of panic in her voice. “Don’t joke about that, Rosebud. My nerves won’t take it.”

She felt horrible, guilt eating away at her stomach. Rose’s little brush with death may have affected her far less than her mother, after all Rose went itn surgery and came back out feeling like shit, that was all. But Mum? She’d lived through being told her daughter was dead, and they’d begin resuscitation, with a slim chance of success. Yes, Rose knew the impact on her was far greater, despite the scar she lived with now.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” she gave her an impetuous hug, holding her tight. She’d lost weight, her bones felt fragile as a bird. “Shall we watch some telly that Jerry won’t understand? Monty Python, or Only Fools and Horses? I’ll make you a proper cup of tea, his always tastes a bit odd.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Jerry’s voice floated from somewhere across the house.

Her mother beamed, grabbing onto her tight. “Really? I thought you’d be busy, maybe even go to that school dance that’s on tonight.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “It’s not like a school disco, it’s all big poofy dresses and tuxedos. Plus, I think someone has to ask you.”

Mum settled in front of the TV, under a knitted blanket Rose had made when she was ten, misshapen and lumpy. “So. No nice boys at school then? No one you’d have liked to dance with?”

She snorted as she joined her mum on the couch, trying to imagine Eddie Munson in a bow tie, slow dancing to Bonnie Tyler or REO Speedwagon. “The less said about the boys at school the better.”

Her mum was no fool, her eyebrow twitched and she watched Rose with sudden interest. 

“Actually,” Rose reached for a diversion. “I have a favour to ask. Can my friend Robin come and stay tomorrow night? I may have promised her we’d watch a film.”

Mum’s face lit up. “Oh, that sounds lovely. Does Robin know about your heart?”

“No,” Rose moaned. “But i’ll add it to the interview process for my potential friends, shall I? Sense of humour, check. Good taste in music, check. Can recognise congenital heart failure and perform resuscitation, check.”

“No need to be sarcastic, dear. Invite her over, I’ll make sure Jerry is occupied in the garden or in the basement. Give you girls some peace, so you can gossip about musicians or boy bands or whatever girls your age talk about these days.”

“I think Robin wanted to watch something sophisticated, maybe something French. She speaks it too. Maybe a foreign film or a documentary.”

“God,” her mum sighed. “When I was your age...well, we didn’t spend much time watching documentaries, if you catch my drift. Ah, the sixties. Just before I met your father I had a fling with a very dashing pipe welder from Sheffield. My goodness, he had muscles in places I didn’t know could be muscled.”

Rose buried herself behind a stuffed pillow, muffling her cries of horror. “ Stop, please , before I vomit on the sofa.”

“Youth is wasted on the young. Do you want some booze tomorrow? I’ve got some Peach Schnapps and some Tia Maria in the pantry, on the top shelf.”

The pillow moved just slightly, until she could speak. “Yes please, Mum. If you’re going to talk about muscled pipe welders, i’ll need to be drunk.”

---

Rose slept fitfully that night, hovering on that surreal place between the waking world and the sleeping one. In her dreams she was floating aimlessly, on a river in the dark. At first it was peaceful but the current dragged her under. Through the muffle silence she could hear a melody, a beautiful tune hovering on the edge of her consciousness, like she’d left on her walkman and it was bleeding into her dreams.

She woke for the briefest of seconds, the delicate keys of a piano still thrumming through the air, an echo of the dream music in the quiet, creaking house. Her breath came short and she flung her arm out, grappling with the pull-switch on her lamp. Light flooded the room again, but there was nothing, no figure in the corner, no monster lurking in the shadows. Just the old piano by the window, untouched, and silent, the black and white keys illuminated by the lamp and the sliver of moonlight from her window.

She sagged back down on her bed. On the edge of her consciousness a thought crossed her mind; she would have sworn the lid over the keys was shut...wasn’t it? But sleep came for her like a thick, warm blanket, and any thoughts of haunting music and piano keys were forgotten.

[lazy-cat13]

I'll post the Invi and Ash connection tomorrow

Day 4: Dreams.

This'll be my first fanfic I think wish me luck

Black=Ash

Red= brain

Pink= Ash's chirithy

Orange=brains chirithy

Cursing (rarely)

The two hold hands and hug, but it's platonic. They're besties.

I did my best don't judge

@khoc-week

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Ash pov) It's a peaceful sunny morning in Daybreak Town. No Lux collecting this morning, nothing big. Just me and Brain going out to get croissants and cocoa like any other day. Hopefully it's like this for the rest of the day, I don't really want to get caught in a fight. It's coming too common and it's too hard to ignore now.

"You seem stressed." A voice startles me.

"ACK! wudduya want?!"

"Jeez, relax, just me." Oh. Just Brain.

"Sorry, just scared me. . ." I tuck my hands into the pockets of my sweater.

"Eh, don't worry about it. Seriously though, you're really tense, something is bothering you."

Yeah. . . Something is, but I don't wanna stress him out too much. There's already so many things going on, street fights, a war between unions, joining the Dandelions, don't want to add another thing on his plate. . .

"Nothing! Don't worry about it!" I smile trying to hide any sign of stress.

"uhh huhhh. . . We're gonna have to talk about this later then. . ."

"ugh, fine. Let's get food first."

We enter Fountain Square (that's what I like to call it not sure if that's the cannon name) just to see another fight start to break out.

"shiiittt. . ." We both say in unison.

I shakingly put on my headphones to block out some sounds. While Brain tips his fadora

Don't involve me, Don't involve me, Don't involve me, Don't involve me. . .

My breathing picks up.

Brain says something but it's muffled by the headphones. Then he grabs my hand and power walks through the streets of Daybreak Town.

We walk into an alleyway away from people, and he pulls off my headphones.

"It's alright now. . . We're away from crowds. . . Breathe. . ."

I sat down on a box, breathing slowling, but my foot starts to tap vigorously.

A feline wearing headphones poofs next to me.

"Ash! There you are! I've been looking for you back at the apartment!" Oh. It's Chir

"oh no! What happened?!" She runs over to me and sits on my lap giving me a hug.

"well, we were on the way to the cafe, then we ran into a street fight that was going to break out, and we got outta there as quickly as we could. They've been off all day"

"you've been having that dream again, haven't you Ashy?"

"yeah. . ." I finally answer

"Dream?" Brain tilts his head.

Chiri turns around "they've been having a lot of bad dreams lately, waking up crying in fear. . ."

I look away

Great. . . Now he's gonna be stressed. . .

Brain sighs "how 'bout we talk about this after we get something to eat. . . Sound good?"

"yeah. Can we try avoiding crowds?"

" 'course. And we can get our chirithys a sweet treat too." He smiles at chiri

"Woo! Chocolate croissants!" Chiri jumps in excitement.

I giggle a little "all right let's go."

He gives a soft smile "if you need anything, remember we're here for you."

"yeah, yeah. I know. . . Thank you."

"it's nothing. . . Let's go before anything else starts up."

We hold hands for comfort before getting to the cafe and we order some pastries and a cocoa for each of us. and we make our way to the hill. I carried the cocoas while Brain carried the pastry box. Once we made it to the top of the hill I handed him his cocoa while he handed me my croissant.

"chirithy!!"

"yeah Brain? Oh hi Ash!" I wave to his chirithy

"here chocolate croissant! Your favorite!" He tosses the feline a croissant

"Oh! Yummy! Thank you!" And they take a bite

"chiri! Croissant!"

Chiri poofs in my lap in excitement grabbing the croissant

"Thank you!!!"

"so. . . You gonna tell me about this nightmare?"

I take a sip of cocoa

". . . Well, it's about the war. . . I know it's gonna happen but. . . I don't want it to, so I keep having nightmares about being a part of it. Getting killed by someone I might know, don't know, or a union leader. . . Hundreds of deaths, keyblades everywhere. Every dream is a little different , whether I live or die, who I die from, what side I'm on. It's like I'm someone else Everytime. . . It's just scary!" Tears start welling up.

"sh, sh, shhh, it's alright. . . It's just a dream, remember. . ." He brings them In for a hug "chiri, how long has this been happening?"

"past week. . ." She puts down her croissant and joins the hug. Eventually brains chirithy joins too

Safe, I feel safe.

"how bout we stop by the book store on the way back?"

"heh, could always use another sketchbook."

"didn't you get one last week?"

"already filled it."

"What am I gonna do with you?"

"I 'unno." I shove a half eaten croissant in my mouth

"HEY! IS THAT MY CROISSANT?!"

"yep."

Brain reaches and steals my croissant that was sitting on a plate

"hey!-"

"oi, you're one to talk, you just stole mine!"

End.

It's 2Am and hopefully I don't cringe at it when I wake up, this can also count under connection .

[lizajane2]

Avatar the Last Airbender Live Action Episode 5

If Momo could speak: "Bitch where is the food?"

"So someone saw ice in a place where no ice should exist?" The head movement though, the sass. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!

Azula: "Commander Zhao found the Avatar."

Ozai being the manipulative ass that he is: "And Azula, Zhao didn't discover the Avatar, Zuko did. He's the one who displayed resilience and dedication. That's what I expect from a future heir. Not self-serving flattery and coy whispers."

For a second there it really sounded like he was proud until that mother fucker smirked at the end cause Ozai knew it would mess with her head.

Wait, he dragged Katara and Sokka into the spirit world with him? That's new... okay I'm just gonna go with it.

Ooo i love how they mentioned the other storylines that animated series had.

JUNE?! Arden Cho is perfect for this role, honestly she's like an exact clone. Whoever made this cast did a fantastic job!!

Zuko's face though, he's not impressed. LOL.

WAN SHI TONG?! I thought he couldn't leave the library... it doesn't matter I loved that owl!

Dude, they made Hei-Bai look like something straight up outta one of my nightmares.

"Hey skunky! Why don't you pick on someone your own size!" *Hei-Bai roars* "I-I didn't mean me." LMAO!!

Aww man, to hear and see your own mother be burned alive... that is so much trauma for just a little girl.

Ko out here moving like the Grudge. ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT.

If Sokka was that terrible why didn't his father just tell him the truth instead of talking behind his back? Or maybe give him a little encouragement that it's okay to fail and it's part of succeeding. All I know is that Hakoda in the animated series would never be disappointed in Sokka even if he failed.

Aang was able to see Gyatso again!

I love that the writers are indirectly having Zuko help Aang with the journal.

Aang's not gonna be able to see Gyatso again is he?

[lucius-morningstar]

Don't wanna talk about it.

ITime for my boy to get a little scarred, but it's okay.. Right? ---- Husk: Well if it isn't the Prince gracing us with his presence, woah. What happened to you. Lucius: Nothing, give me a drink. The strongest thing you got. Angel: What's up with you. Lucius: Again, don't want to talk about it. Angel: Can I guess. Lucius: No. Angel: Imma guess anyway. You see someone get impaled. Lucius: ... Angel: Hmm, see a cannibal orgy. Lucius: .... Angel: You witness Alastor dancing with a deer corpse. Lucius: No. Husk: See someone get eaten alive? Lucius: *Gags* Shut up and give me a drink. Angel: Huh, that's weird. I feel like for someone whose eaten an eye ball or two you'd be use to something like that by now. Lucius: Ugh.. Can we please just drop it Please. I will pay you both to not bring this up anymore. Angel: Ooh it's that bad. Husk: Now you got me curious. Lucius: You ever hear what happens to curious cats Husk. It gets cats killed. Angel: Ooh but satisfaction brings em back don't it. Husk: Pass. Angel: Rude.. So, now we have an idea of what. But maybe it's the context and not just the visual. Lucius: I will fuck you if you drop this please. Angel: See now for once I don't wanna get fucked, only cause it has to be that bad for you to not want to talk about it. Husk: ..Is this a familial thing? Lucius: No. Angel: Tone says otherwise so yes. let's see. Let's get the clues together. It's a familial area and it has to do with someone getting eaten a-..No fuckin way. Lucius: *Groans* Please just give me a drink. Angel: *Grins* Seen Vaggie munching your sisters carpet. Lucius: OH for the love of everything holy and evil in this world. Please fucking drop it! Angel: Are you fuckin kiddin, not every day I get to poke at something that bugs you this bad. How'd you even find them in that position. I took your sister and Vaggie for prudes. Lucius: I'm not answering this, It's bad enough i have the mental image in my head. I am not talking further on it. Husk: We're they in their room because that's the only way I can't see you walking in on them. Angel: By the look on his face I'd say he entered without permission. Lucius: I was half asleep, in the middle of some fucked up nightmare, heard her scream and panicked okay. That's it. Angel: ... Husk: .... Angel: So it was the climax of your dre- *He quickly ducks as a glass goes flying past his head.* Lucius: Shut the fuck up! Angel: *laughs* Oh my fucking god, this is just rich. Husk: It is kind of funny. Lucius: Well I'm glad you two are so amused by all this! Husk: I mean yeah kind of not as much as you'd think though. Angel: I'm super amused. Lucius: Don't tell me you would find it so funny if it we're your sister. Angel: Ah-.. No I wouldn't actually. Lucius: Exactly, now shut the fuck up. This night can't get anyworse. Charlie: Lucius! Lucius: Oh fuck no, can't face her right now. Don't let her know I was here! *he doesn't really wait for an answer before he bolts.* Charlie: Ugh.. Lucius come on we need to talk about this. Angel: Hey Toots. Charlie: Have you guys seen my brother he um-.. We need to talk about something and he's kind of avoiding me. Husk: He just left. Charlie: *Sighs* Of course he did. Angel: ..So she knows what buttons to push- Charlie: I am not talking about this with you, I'm surprised he even told you two. Angel: To be fair we kinda tortured it out of him. It was too funny not too. Charlie: Ugh.. You two are just too much right now. I am going to have to try and talk to him tomorrow. Goodnight both of you and please don't let this spread around more. Husk: It won't. Angel: Night Charlie. Husk: ... Angel: So we're talling everyone right. Husk: I'm not, but I can't stop you. Angel: I am so going to tease the fuck outta dem tomorrow.