#we created this monster in our heads so it must be true

[thejurassicparty]

"They took everything from us, and then they called me a monster?... This ends when I grant them my forgiveness, not the other way around."

This particular quote - honestly, this whole scene - has the nauseating force of a sucker punch directly to the gut

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight

As always, I have edits:

This will make more sense at the end.

I came across some theories about this song, and wanted to look at it in depth.

We are reading with the understanding that he may be referring to Eddie.

[A gentle piano and bassoon track begins playing.]

The sun is low, it’s cold and dark,— end of season, but could also be a reference to night and danger after dark

Just wind and snow, I must remark,

The bugs all head to slumberland,—interesting given the use of toyland, also the commercial about remderem/insomnia (some must sleep but Wally is in the opposite state. Too aware?), but could be a reference to death, like “the big sleep”

Some might find it sad, but I understand,—on face value, he will miss his friends, but knows that it is inevitable.

Even if I might not be able to see you,—can’t see Eddie because he is gone/buried

I know it’s for the best, I can’t keep you,—Eddie staying would lead to serious consequences for Eddie

It’s time for all of you to get some rest,—after what we saw Eddie go through, I bet he would be better in a different state

To tuck you all into your arthropod nests,—bug stuff; also Julie's hibernation?

At this point, those last few lines could refer to a sort of death for Eddie. Almost like frank can preserve him in some way by giving him a death in this universe. If we are talking puppet world, which we did see in commercials, most of Eddie’s anxiety happened in that state. So, can Frank give Eddie a suspended or death like state in one of the layers of reality and he is preserved in storybook world or our real world?

With one last check, that nothing is amiss,

I can see you safe into your chrysalis,—this reads that he will put Eddie into a different state of being that he can come back from. The coming back is my interpretation only at this point because I assume frank wouldn’t choose death for him or would for sure be hurt by Eddie’s death. Things would have to be very bad if true death is a better option for Eddie.

Also, it hearkens back to the horror butterfly image. Another also, caterpillar to butterfly, an insinuation of emedging into a new form. I don’t see allusions to Howdy in here, but I suppose it is possible that this could refer to more than one neighbor and Frank is taking them all out.

As you snuggle down into your dirt,—reference to being buried?

I want to assure you that I won’t be hurt.

This clarifies that it is a sleeping type state, not death. Ok, here is we’re Eddie’s Halloween costume comes in. Frankenstein, changed from the Scarecrow in earlier art (presumably from wizard of oz). Interesting thing about scarecrow vs. Frankenstein is that we see scarecrow taken apart during that film and Frankenstein is famously assembled from parts of different people. Interestinger is the fact that they are both afraid of fire. (I love that Young Frankenstein shows up more than the original in a search.)

Frankenstein (and scarecrow) are both put back together, but for Frankenstein it seems more of a new being, not just a reassembling. Frankenstein (aka frankenstein’s monster) is a thinking, speaking individual that was horrified at the situation he was in. Frankenstein in the book murders to punish his creator for the immorality of creating him and the resulting loneliness that the monster feels. As such, the choice is very interesting. If the puppets of welcome home come to be aware or sentient, I wonder how they would feel about Ronald Dorelaine or their situation?

If the movie version is the focus of Eddie’s costume choice, then he would be a potentially thinking and feeling being (he is afraid of fire), but without further evidence we don’t know his thoughts.

Scarecrow is a guy without a brain, with the power of speech, so a kind of opposite. I think they all end up just needing to be confident, which is why some shyster from the Midwest is able to help. This almost seems to be more in tune with Eddie's character--Eddie has a tendency to appear kind of ditsy, is constantly being dismissed by others. In the end, we find out he is actually smart but lacks confidence. I can see that being true for Eddie as well.

If I had to pick out a character for Frank, it would be the Tin Man. Poppy is the Cowardly Lion, Wally is Dorothy. Home is Home. There are more parallels here than I was expecting. Howdy is the Wizard, Julie can be Glenda, and the Wicked Witch...is kind of no one? Sally can be a flying monkey. She works my nerve. Also, the whole spying thing was done by the monkeys in the movie.

But now that I am thinking about it, this comparison makes a lot of sense, in terms of the complex relationships, as well as the levels of reality that you find in Wizard of Oz. A big event leads to a shift in the understanding of reality, and the lead finds themselves in a very colorful world that doesn't much resemble their own, but is very flashy, has songs, beloved characters, and a sense of danger. There are some things when thought about in the context of real life, or the black and white portion of Wizard of Oz, would be truly frightening.

Of course, Wizard of Oz shares a lot of parallels with Alice in Wonderland, which also seems somewhat related. In terms of source material, the Wizard of Oz is considered to be a parable that expresses the thoughts about US economic policy in the 1890's. This is a theory that you can read more about here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_interpretations_of_The_Wonderful_Wizard_of_Oz

It isn't super related, and not everyone believes that this is the case. However, it seems to be a very American type story, no matter what you believe, that touches on the experience of normal people while much larger forces lie and fuck around with everything.

As the holidays begin to approach,

I gently kiss, each and every roach,—kisses for Eddie. We have seen a realistic roach on the secret page with the mishmash of one script where Wally is deciding what to draw

I made sure to keep, my garden cozy,

So you can safely sleep, in fallen posies,—this whole stanza shows a desire to and promise of a quiet death and maybe even a maintained grave. I looked up posies to see where Eddie could potentially be buried. Posies refer to a nosegay, or small bouquet of flowers. It was a Victorian secret code thing, a way to declare love or even reject people based on flower and color. One that sticks with us in the form of red roses signifying love. On the map, there is a cluster of yellow flowers to the side of Frank’s house. Not sure this counts as his garden, since it is on the other side of the house. Julie has a group of flowers behind her house, but once again, not his garden. No fallen flowers that I can ID.

When googling posey, this is what comes up. I felt that there was a flower called a posey, and these do look like the big yellow flowers by Frank’s house. If any flowers fall in updates, I am going to assume someone is buried there.

There is also the ring around the roses rhyme, which could relate, but I don’t really see a correlation.

It’s time to get comfortable in your honeycomb,

take your winter intermission in your garden loam,—dirt, burying again

neatly nestled from the cold in roots and rhi-ya-zomes, — cozy dead

sleeping side by side under stately stones,—2 dead? Headstones is the link I make there--OK, now look at the pic! (I know, it's a reach.)

…And I’ll be inside of my home,—frank is staying to oversee something. It reads like calming the person who will die. This seems to bolster that arguments that I addressed in the post about bugs on the previous website, that Frank is working against, or at least parallel to Wally. With the bugs, the whispering to Eddie, and using his first name, I think it is reasonable to suggest that Frank is working against Wally and/or Home.

Another potential clue is the hidden video with the clothespins where 1 is upside down. I have theorized that it is a reference to Barnaby dying, but it could be Barnaby and Eddie. Only one clothespin is shown upside down though, so Barnaby or Eddie?

Regardless of how I feel you need to go away,

I’ll be the one to tell you, you just can’t stay,—he likes bugs but this is extreme of Frank, if he is talking about actual bugs

Thankfully I lack a sentimental sensibility,—true that, he generally seems calm.

I enjoy my Methodical Mundanity,—why is this capitalized? I looked and looked but I can’t find the origin of this phrase, though it came up a few times in random posts and articles. Clown does have a tendency to capitalize things that seem random. Me below is also capitalized. I listened as well, and I have to wonder why the singing is so bad? I don’t think the voice actors are bad at singing, seems like a deliberate choice to have reedy and unsteady vocals, pitch issues and pacing problems.

Where all that’s left is… Me.

So, this is a bit extreme for a song about hibernating bugs. I think that given our many references to bisecting or otherwise putting people into pieces (Eddie butterfly horror, frank in a pile of body parts, look I made a dog, and slinky Barnaby, now Frankenstein and Scarecrow) that we could be looking at death in a sense that works in one layer of reality. You disassemble a puppet, it is no longer a puppet. So what if Frank = Frankenstein and Eddie is Frankenstein’s monster? Frank can take him apart and put him back together in puppet reality?

If I had to guess, I am sticking with my working theory. Frank, as the smartest guy in the neighborhood, is the resistant force in the neighborhood. Wally/Home is/are the catalyst for the scary stuff. They are central to everything, physically and otherwise.

I have mentioned that in the last update, Sally and Poppy have the appearance of spies or managing Eddie. Given that Poppy doesn’t attend to party, I am anticipating that Eddie was isolated and watched by Sally during this planning period, where Wally and Barnaby walk the neighborhood to find out what Homewarming is. Given that it is said that Wally and Home instigated Homewarming, it is strange that everyone knows what it is except for Wally. It reads more as an attempt to achieve a goal, despite everyone knowing about the holiday. Even Julie is at the party, and she is supposed to be hibernating. Well, they don't say exactly when Julie hibernates (maybe there was something about her doing it after the holiday?) Anyway, Poppy isn't at Homewarming. She could be at home, but the book stating that they are all here seems like an attempt to cover up her absence. What is she doing? Snooping in the Post Office while Sally watches Eddie? Does Eddie want to go home for not feeling well or he has an idea of what is happening while he is gone?

Maybe Frank sees his boyfriend and comrade at arms about to get hit with something bad, so to preserve him and the opposition, he is going to disassemble him (cue Johnny 5) for protection.

In the past, Sonny (the Brazilian bird) was cast as the opposition to Wally, and included in a relationship with Frank. This work in particular comes to mind:

Clown has stated that they removed Sonny from the project due to the story changing from one with a hero, to one without, as that wasn't the story that they wanted to tell. What if, though, instead of Sonny being written out for the hero reason, there was another reason? What if we are seeing Frank taking on being the neighborhood's savior? He is just snarky enough to make it seem less like a hero situation and more because it was impacting his garden.

[sweet-villain]

Cause I Believe~ 1~ Older E.M

Summary : You move next door to Eddie Munson, and he welcomes you with his friends.

Author's Note : I had so much fun writing this.

Older Eddie

Boxes crowd the porch as you fumble with the last big box, the air thick with the smell of fresh paint and sun-baked wood.

A figure leans on the fence in the upstairs complex, a cigarette hanging loose from his lips. Eddie Munson. Scruffy beard, long brown hair dusted with silver, tattoos inked into his skin like a personal history. His gaze lingers, unsettling yet intriguing.

" Welcome to the shit hole" His voice carries a gravely edge but he doesn't turn to glance at you.

You offer him an uneasy smile, unsure about the way he stood, " Thanks?"

The air hung heavy. He takes long drags of his cigarettes, eyes moving slowly towards you and looking away quickly.

" What's with the box? You hiding some toys or your stash or porno magazines?" He chuckled, teasing.

" Just some junk" you shrugged.

" You must have a lot of junk, then"

Before you answer him, a group calls out his name rounding the corner. Your eyebrows knit together not really recognizing them.

" Oh! Eddie's got a new neighbor!"

Dustin nudges Mike. “Think they’ll survive living next to Eddie?”

“Probably not,” Robin chirps, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Eddie rolls his eyes but can’t hide the twitch of a smile.

“Don’t mind him,” Steve nudges Eddie, “he mostly bites.”

" I'm Steve" he offers his hands out. Steve had chestnut hair, long, some strand hanging from his forehead creating a shadow like and you can see chest hair peeking out of his shirt. He sported a scruff on his face and glasses. He was kinda cute.

" Y/N" you shook his hand.

" Stop flirting with my neighbor, Harrington" Eddie mumbles loud enough for Steve to hear.

Steve chuckled, raising his eyebrow. " Aw, don't worry Munson. She's all yours." Eddie rolled his eyes.

Eddie flicks the ash from his cigarette, crossing his arms defiantly. “Yeah, right. I’m just here to enjoy this shit hole of a town."

Dustin leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. “Seriously, though. Are you settling in? Or are you just gonna stare at Eddie all day?”

Your eyes widen at his question, red appears on your cheeks. You didn't mean to stare at Eddie. But he was really pretty, he must of had all the girls in high school.

“I just… You know, boxes.”

Robin snorted."Boxes? That's your excuse?" She chuckles, her eyes glinting with amusement. “If I were you, I’d be more interested in our resident rockstar over here.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes Robin shoulder playfully, " Hey, now Buckley." 

Robin sidesteps, laughter spilling into the cool afternoon breeze. “What? It’s true! Just look at those tattoos. You could practically sell tickets.”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head. " You do know I know how to play guitar and sing." “Yeah? Never heard of a tattooed rockstar that could play a mean bone flute,” Dustin quips, nudging Eddie with his elbow. The laughter crescendos around you, an infectious rhythm that sets the tone.

" Where you all friends in high school?" you asked.Mike scratches the back of his head, glancing at the others. “More like we became friends through, you know, monster hunting and—”

“Way too many Dungeons & Dragons sessions,” Dustin interjects, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

" What did you mean monster hunting? Like hunting for animals or what?" Dustin beams like he’s about to share a great secret. “Not animals—like, actual monsters. We faced Demogorgons, Mind Flayers, all that fun stuff!” He gestures grandly.

" What?" you looked at them strangly. " What are those?" Eddie notices your eyes look wide a bit. Eddie chuckles, leaning against the fence, arms still crossed. “You probably think we’re a bunch of lunatics right now.”

“Maybe?” A nervous laugh escapes you, face still warm from the conversation.

" You all look nice and welcoming, but you look trouble Eddie.." Eddie lifts an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “Trouble? Nah, just misunderstood.” He offers a mock bow, the cigarette dangling precariously.

" I'm sure your great, Eddie" you brushed a piece of hair behind your ear while holding the box still. Eddie's smirk deepens, a playful challenge flickering in his eyes. “Great? That’s quite the compliment. Do I look great?” 

" I mean... fasinating.." Eddie leans closer, feigning a hurt expression. “Fascinating? That’s it? I was expecting ‘incredible’ or ‘magnificent.’” His lips twitch, barely holding back a grin.

“Right! I’m Dustin, this is Mike, and that’s Robin.” He gestures to each as if presenting trophies. 

“Dustin,” you repeat, catching his infectious enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you all.”

Do you need help settling in?" Steve asked as he eyed you up and down, already developing a small crush. “Uh, sure,” you reply, eyeing the remaining boxes stacked like confounding towers. “I wouldn’t mind some extra hands.”

“Count me in!” Steve beams, as if he thrives on teamwork.

" I have things to do" Eddie says, not wanting to get close to you even though you seem nice. He didn't want to get close to you, as in a pretty girl like you.. he just can't. He never gets the girl. Eddie flicks his cigarette onto the ground, the ember glowing briefly before extinguishing under his boot. He scoffs lightly, folding his arms tighter. 

“Yeah, right. Like you’re just going to sit back and let Harrington pullall the weight around here,” Robin challenges, her eyes narrowing at Eddie with a playful fire.

"I'm sure Eddie is doing his best estimate of a rockstar," Steve jabs, nudging Eddie with a grin. 

“More like a rock!”Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve, a mock frown plastered on his face. “Rude. Rocks have feelings too, you know.”

" Some special rocks then" You laugh, the absurdity of it bubbling in your chest. “Maybe a rock that plays guitar?”

Eddie feigns a dramatic gasp. “Excuse me, that’s way too close to my personal brand.” He taps his temple, mocking a deep thought. 

" Maybe those special rocks with have an album on your shelf as a trophy"Eddie glances at you, his eyes brightening for a fleeting moment. “An album? Now that’s not a bad idea. I could call it ‘Rock Solid.’” 

Dustin bursts into laughter, slapping his knee. “

“I’d buy that album,” you shot back, your grin widening. Eddie watches, surprise etching across his face, an unfamiliar warmth creeping into his expression.

Eddie shakes his head, the charming banter swirling around him, but it feels like an echo slightly detached from his reality. 

You swing open the weathered oak door to your apartment, gesturing for them to enter. Eddie lingers behind, his lean frame silhouetted against the twilight sky. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of silvery smoke that swirls in the cool evening air. His ring-adorned fingers grip the wrought iron fence, knuckles whitening with tension.

Stepping inside, your guests are enveloped by the warmth of your uniquely curated space. The apartment exudes a cozy, eclectic charm that defies conventional styles. Vintage photographs and vibrant art posters adorn the walls, each telling a fragment of your story. A plush, well-worn leather couch invites relaxation, its cushions adorned with an assortment of colorful throw pillows. The kitchen gleams with polished countertops and neatly arranged copper pots, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, hinting at the culinary adventures to come.

A scattering of houseplants clung to the sunlight, their leaves glistening with vitality. 

“Dude, this place is awesome!” Dustin exclaimed, eyes wide as he stepped into the cozy scene. 

Thank you, I love to design and play with colors" you tell him. “Colors really pop,” Mike nods, glancing around the living room before zeroing in on the wall hung with eclectic art. “Did you do all this yourself?”

" Yeah, most of it. My mother used to be a painter.." Mike’s eyes soften, a flicker of understanding shining through. “That’s really cool. It’s got character, you know? Feels warm here.” 

Robin eyes one of the paintings and it's you. " Did she paint this?" Your gaze follows Robin’s, landing on a vibrant portrait. You nod, the warmth of nostalgia washing over you. “Yeah, she did. It's one of my favorites. Captured me during a summer dance in our backyard.”

" I was ten there I believe. At least that was she told me. My mom alwasy thought I've held some magic when I danced, used to sing too..." you trailed. A soft smile dances across your lips, bittersweet memories surfacing. 

"Are you going to give Eddie a run for his money? Be the new musician in the neighborhood?" Dustin asked. You chuckle, shaking your head at the absurdity. “Hardly. My dancing days are behind me, and I’m no rockstar.” 

" You never know, you and Eddie could sing together one day." Steve suggests. Laughter erupts, threading through the air like a playful breeze. 

" I stopped singing when my mother died.." you glanced down at your converse. Silence coated the room like a soft blanket, the lively chatter fading into a hush. A weight pressed into the air, heavy with understanding.

" She was the only one to believe in me. She said I had the most angelic voice she's ever heard. I used to put my little sister to bed singing her a bed time song..." Steve exchanges a glance with Mike, the lively energy of their previous banter dimming. Dustin shifts awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, as if trying to find a lighthearted comment. 

" We're sorry, we didn't mean to bring anything up." You shake your head, a faint smile flickering back. “It’s okay. Just… sometimes things slip out.”

" That's also why I decided to move out, her funeral was... a month ago..." The room remains still, the weight of your words settling over the group like a thick fog. Dustin glances around, his youthful face painted with concern. 

"Hey, we totally understand," Steve says, his voice low and steady. 

“Whenever you’re ready to talk or just need to vent, we’re here.” 

You nod slowly, appreciation swelling against the ache in your chest. “Thanks. It helps, really.” 

" I hardly know you guys, too." The room buzzes with a peculiar intensity, a blend of sympathy.

“Yeah, but that’s how we roll around here,” Steve declares, leaning against the arm of the couch, arms crossed.

" We support one another" Dustin says. " We have each other's back" Robin adds. Eddie shifts his weight, the flicker of cigarette smoke dancing around him, creating an illusion of distance. Unbothered by the heaviness, he taps his fingers against his arm, a nervous gesture that breaks the stillness.

" Like a family" Eddie mumbles. Dustin leans back, nodding vigorously. “Exactly! And you’re part of it now. That is, if you can handle our weirdness.” 

Hey!" Steve plafully glared as he pouted. You chuckle, warmth spreading through your chest.

" It's just might be what I need" you mumble, " It's been a long time since I've really smiled.." Dustin's eyes sparkle, a hint of mischief swirling within. “Then we have our mission! Operation Make Y/N Smile starts now!”

You chuckle at Robin’s exasperation, the tension in the room easing a fraction. “Okay, I appreciate the enYou chuckle at Robin’s exasperation, the tension in the room easing a fraction. “Okay, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I do need to sort through this stuff.” 

" By the way, what is a dingus?" you asked. Laughter erupts again, and for a moment, the heaviness lifts.

“Dingus?” Dustin’s eyes sparkle with glee. 

“I think it’s a term of endearment,” Mike offers, grinning.

“It means youa bit of a goofball,” Steve chimes in, winking at Dustin. “That applies to all of us at some point.”

" You should get it tattooed then, Eddie" you playfully chuckled at him as a joke. Eddie raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting between mock horror and genuine intrigue. “A tattoo? Of ‘dingus’? That’s what I need, a permanent reminder of my goofball status.” He taps his chin, takingover his demeanor.

“I could design it,” you suggest, your voice light as you scan the room, feeling the infectious energy. 

"Oh boy" Eddie mumbles as he walks into your apartment closing the door. Eddie leans his back against the door, arms crossed, eyes darting around the room. He takes in the vibrant colors, the warped frames holding photographs, each seeming to whisper stories of laughter and joy.

" What's the matter, Eddie? It's not dark and gloomy to your taste?" you asked.Eddie straightens, feigning a look of horror. “What? No skulls? No velvet curtains?” He gestures dramatically around the room. “What am I supposed to do with all this brightness? Wear sunglasses?”

"That looks like more of my bedroom thing" you smirked. Eddie throws his head back, laughter erupting from him as he steps deeper into your vibrant world. “Your bedroom must be a whole other gallery, then. I’m just picturing rainbows and unicorns.”

" I don't like pink, and I am not exactly a girly girl" you glance down at your Metallica worn shirt and black shorts with green converse. Eddie raises an eyebrow, his grin broadening. “Metallica, huh? I can get behind that. At least your style has some edge.” He takes a step closer, his interest igniting as he surveys your eclectic taste. 

" Well I do ride a motorcycle. A harley" Eddie's eyes widen, a spark of genuine admiration flickering across his face. “A Harley? Now that’s pretty badass.” He shifts his weight, leaning in slightly. “What model?”

“Sportster,” you reply, a flicker of pride igniting in your chest. “Nothing crazy, but it gets me where I need to go.”

" I like you" Robin says as she pushes into your shoulder, " you're going to get along with us just fine. Another Eddie though." You chuckle, shaking your head. “Let’s not get carried away. I’m as much of a weirdo as you all are, but another Eddie? That’s a stretch.”

" Hey! I'm pretty great" Eddie puts a hand on his chest. “Sure you are, Munson,” Steve teases, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied grin. “Great at being a lovable weirdo. Best title ever.”

You open the box and it's full of your records you have collected. Vinyl records spill out like treasures from a forgotten past, their covers bursting with color and nostalgia. You can’t help but smile as you pick out a few.

“Whoa! You’ve got some classics here,” Steve says, " some of these are rare. Were you parents rich or something?" “Just lucky to find them at garage sales and thrift shops,” you explain, holding up a record with a tattered cover. “This one’s from an old-school band. My mom loved collecting vinyl.”

" Okay, stop being so cool" Eddie says. " You're going to give me a heart attack. I'm still young...well..you know what I mean..." You laugh, the sound bubbling over like a sunny stream. “Don’t worry, Munson. I’m not planning on stealing your title as the coolest in the neighborhood. That crown’s all yours.”

" Would you two stop flirting already? Get a room" Mike rolls his eyes. The teasing hung in the air like a well-placed joke, your cheeks warming at Mike’s comment. You exchanged a glance with Eddie, both of you caught off guard by the quip. 

“Flirting?” Eddie scoffed, hiseyes darting towards Mike, incredulity painted across his features. “Please. I don’t even know her last name yet.” He takes a deliberate step back, running his fingers through his hair as a way to regain his composure.

" And I'm sorta seeing someone" Eddie says, shrugging. “Sorta?” You echo, the curiosity bubbling to the surface. “That’s a peculiar way to put it.”

“Complicated,” he replies, leaning against the door, arms folded tight. 

" You can just say you have a fuck buddy" you shrug. "We aren't 12" Eddie’s smoky laughter dances through the air, a spark of surprise flickering in his eyes. “Damn, someone’s bold.” 

“Just keeping it real,” you respond, a playful glint in your gaze. 

" How about you, Y/N? Have anyone coming to swoop you off your feet?" Steve asks. The question hangs in the air, a sudden spotlight illuminating the room. A light flush creeps into your cheeks as you shift your weight awkwardly. 

" Not really, but riding a motorcycle like I have, has it's perks" you smirked. Dustin leans in, eyes wide with intrigue. “Oh, are you saying you’re dangerously cool? Like a movie heroine?” 

“Something like that.” You grinned.

Every guy I have came across, stares at my bike then at me, back at my guy and asks for my number." A ripple of laughter courses through the group, each taking turns to react. 

“Nice! That’s how you know you’re doing something right,” Dustin cheers, fist-pumping the air.

"One time I had gave this guy the number of my aunt who lives in California and she didn't understand what he said. She called me telling me some string cheese mop head was calling her in the middle of the night asking for a ride" you giggled. Laughter erupted in waves, the room brimming with shared stories and genuine delight.

“String cheese mop head, eh?” Steve cackled, nearly doubling over. “I’m stealing that one for future use.”

" He had spagetti like hair, greasy too. He didn't have enough balls either to check the name I have written down either on the paper" you snorted. More laughter erupted, the room vibrating with the energy of shared humor. Eddie leaned against the door, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Sounds like a true gem of a guy. Really raises the bar for us, huh?” 

" His zipper was undone too, I had a peek of the small carrot he had" Laughter bursts forth, an eruption of mirth that fills the room like music. Steve nearly collapses against the arm of the couch, howling with glee. “No way! You are not serious!”

" His buddy next to him, listening to our conversation forgot his pants at the bar. He had whales on his boxers, a leather jacket on and a red bandana on his head." The laughter swells, echoing against the walls. Steve struggles to breathe, clutching his stomach as if it might explode. 

“Whales?” Dustin wheezes between breaths. "What kind of guys did you attract?"

" Not just whales, when he turned to walk away, he had a tatoo that said " Mama".“‘Mama,’ huh?” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. “Now that’s a classy touch.” “Right? I mean, who doesn’t want a walking reminder of their mom on their butt?” You feign a serious tone, and Eddie bursts into laughter, the sound deep and genuine, pulling

Dustin opened the box and gasped seeing a whole system music set up. " You'r rich!" "Rich?" You cock an eyebrow, feigning offense as you retrieve a vintage record from the box. “This is thrift-store treasure hunting at its finest. Beats any of this overpriced junk you find in stores. You just need to look harder.”

" I'm an explorer and a finder" Dustin holds up a record, eyes wide with delight. “You’re telling me you just stumbled upon this treasure?” 

“Pretty much. The thrill’s in the hunt,” you say, your smile reflecting the joy of discoveries made over years.

" I didn't have any friends so this is all I did.." you scratched the back of your head. Dustin's expression turned sympathetic but curious. “What do you mean? No friends? With all this cool stuff, I figured you had a whole crew.”

" My father..." you gulped "...he was a drunk..." you closed your eyes ".... he beat me when I was home.. so I could not show anyone the bruises..." You looked away. " I didn't want to be home, so I went to hunt the best things I could find. Brought my mom things, used my allowance just that I could see her smile." You glanced at the ground. " I was too afraid for anyone to see me like that." Silence enveloped the room again, a stark contrast to the earlier warmth. Each friend’s gaze shifted, taking in the gravity of your words.

" He would beat my mom, but I'd cover her" your eyes closed rememebring the memories. “Things got better after he died..." “...but it took time,” you finish, the weight of the past unfurling in the quiet, palpable stillness.

" Please don't look at me like that" you begged. The weight of silence pressed against you, an unyielding void that seemed to stretch between moments. A cocktail of emotions brewed among the group, each one grappling with the reality of your words.

" Please.." A flicker of concern darkens Steve's gaze, his comforting demeanor faltering under the weight of your admission. He clasps his hands tightly in his lap, wrestling with the impulse to reach out.

" I'm not a broken record" Your voice weaves through the silence, but the weight of your confession seems to hang in the air like a thick fog. 

"It's life, and I'm a survior" The silence thickens, wrapping around you like a tender embrace. You draw a shaky breath, the words reverberating through the room, knitting together empathy and understanding.

Dustin wrapped his arms around you and placed his head on top of yours. The warmth of Dustin’s embrace felt oddly comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket on a chilly night. His head rested against yours—light, reassuring—reminding you that you weren’t alone. 

“ We aren't going anywhere" He says. You lean into Dustin, grateful for the comfort of his presence, the chaos of life momentarily quieting down.

" Eddie lives next door, you can always talk to him" Dustin suggest. But something in Eddie didn't sit right. " I'm not going to be her tharipist" Eddie says. Dustin pulls away, shooting Eddie a look laced with indignation. “Come on, Eddie. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? She just needs some support.”

" No" Eddie growled. Eddie’s voice cut through the fragile atmosphere, tension coiling around his words like a snake. His arms remained crossed, but now they looked like a barrier. 

"She has a phone" Dustin’s eyes narrowed, disbelief washing over his face. “Eddie, seriously? It’s not just about talking to people on the phone. Sometimes you just need someone to listen, face-to-face.”

"She's just a girl" Eddie continues, " She is capable of calling someone" Dustin’s eyes spark with frustration. “So what? Just because she’s a girl, she doesn’t need support? Everyone needs someone to talk to!” 

" Not me" he grumbled.Dustin’s frustration flared, his voice rising with indignation. “You can’t just shut her out because you’re scared of getting close! That’s not fair!”

" I'm not scared, why would I want to get close to her? Just because she a cool collection of music? A motorcycle? Ha!" Eddie's words hung in the air, sharp and biting. You shifted uncomfortably, caught in the middle of this unexpected clash. 

" You're being too harsh, Eddie" Robin says. Eddie shifts, jaw clenched. “I’m just saying, people have their own shit to deal with. I can’t be someone’s crutch.”

" It's fine" you mumble, " I don't need some old smoking wannabe rockstar. Don't let the door hit you on the way out" you stood up from where you were sitting storming to your room and slamming the door. Who does he think he is? The thud of the door echoed in the small apartment, a sharp punctuation to your frustration. You pressed your back against the cool wood, eyes squeezed shut as you breathed heavily.

Fuck Eddie.

The walls felt like they were closing in, each breath heavy with frustration. You pressed your palm against the door, wishing for the chaotic swirl of voices to fade. 

" That wasn't necessary, Munson" Steve says. " Shut it, Harrington" Eddie says. Silence followed your retreat, the air thick with unresolved tension. The silence settled like a thick fog, wrapping around the group. Outside your door, muffled voices began to spiral, battling against the weight of what had just transpired.

“Eddie, what the hell?” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, disbeliefundeniable in his tone. 

Eddie leaned against the wall, his head tilted back, gaze distant. “What the hell did you want me to say? ‘Welcome to the family!’? She doesn’t need me.”Steve crossed his arms. “That’s not the point, Munson! She’s hurting, and you just—”

“Just what? Became her therapist?” Eddie cut him off, frustration lacing his words. 

" Don't use your dick, Eddie" Robin says. Eddie stood rigid, swallowing the weight of Robin’s words. The air thickened between them, alive with an electric tension. “I’m not trying to be a dick! I just don’t want to get involved in someone else's mess.”

You walked out of your room pointing a finger at Eddie, " I don't need you to be my friend or my therapist. I understand now why you can't keep a girl. I get it. " Your voice sliced through the lingering tension, brittle and frayed. Eddie’s eyes widened, the surprise washing over his features like a cold wave. His posture shifted, arms falling to his sides as you stepped into view.

" So tell me, why. Enlight me, princess " Eddie spatted throwing his hands. The room bristled with tension, a standoff brewing in the thick air between you and Eddie. His dark eyes narrowed, resentment flickering like embers. 

“Enlighten you?” you jabbed, anger fueling every word. “You think you can just stand there, looking all brooding and mysterious, and expect everyone to bow down? You’re not special, Eddie. You’re just another guy lost in your own mess.”

" Yeah, princess. That's all you got?" Eddie laughs. The laughter bursts from him, a hollow sound that reverberates against the walls, mingling with the tension hanging in the air. 

"You really think you know me?" Eddie sneers, his voice dropping an octave, the confrontation pushing the boundaries of the moment like a taut string ready to snap. 

" You probably never cleaned up after yourself, you reek of cigarettes and cheap smell coming from the trash can. When was the last time you brushed your hair? Look at that too, you're already getting old with all the grey hair. You're dick is probably wrinkyl too." Eddie’s laughter died, replaced by a sharp intake of breath as your words struck deep. The room fell into an echoing silence, the weight of your insult hanging in the air like a lead balloon. 

" Listen here, you brat" he starts, his voice low and steady, a dangerous calm seeping into the intensity of the moment. 

“Maybe I don’t clean up after myself,” he continued, eyes narrowing like a predator assessing its prey, “but at least I have friends." Your heart raced, the anger ricocheting in your chest. "Friends? Is that what you call them—people who watch you smoke yourself to death and enable your miserable attitude?" 

" My health isn't your business, princess" Eddie's words sliced through the stillness, a low growl that resonated with defiance. He stood there, unruly hair framing his face, tattoos shifting against his skin, a storm of emotions flickering in his dark eyes.

"You think your harsh words struck a nerve in me? Think again princess, I've been through a lot worse.." Eddie adds. His gaze bore into you, fierce and unwavering, challenging you to flinch.

“Worse than what? Stop being so dramatic, Munson." You glared back, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

" Try again, sweetheart. I dare you" his gaze darkens. A fierce silence settled like a dark cloud, thick with unspoken challenges. You could almost feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, daring you to dig deeper.

“Why don’t you tell me then?” You shot back, your voice unwavering, defiance twinkling in your eyes. “Let’s see who can out-terrible each other.”

" I don't have time for play time" he mumbles, rolling his eyes. His arms dropped to his sides, frustration rippling through his posture as he turned slightly away, still trapped in the conflict swirling in the room. 

" Did I hit a nerve? You ran out of words to say? Oh poor me" you dramatically put a hand on your forehead. Eddie's expression hardened, a flash of vulnerability battling behind the defiance. He fisted his hands at his sides, straining against the unwelcome wave of frustration that built behind his ribcage. 

“Enough with the performance,” he say, pointing a finger, " that mouth will get you in trouble." Your laughter slipped free, cutting through the tension. “Trouble? Please, I've been living in it long before I moved in next door to you.” 

Eddie’s jaw tightened, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability hidden behind bravado. “You are nothing but a brat." “Brat? Really? That’s the best you got?” You shot back, arms crossed defiantly.

Eddie leaned against the wall, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “It fits, doesn’t it? You probably never had a boyfriend dick you down good." Your breath hitched, outrage mixing with surprise. The bluntness of his words struck like lightning, charging the air between you. “Excuse me?” You narrowed your eyes, disbelief draping over your features.

“ Guys, stop fighting" Dustin say. " The both of you are adults" Dustin's voice sliced through the charged atmosphere, a plea echoing in stark contrast to the tension crackling between you and Eddie. 

“Yeah, adults who apparently act like children,” you shot back, your defiance barely holding back the sting.

" Sweetheart, you're acting like you never been laid. That's your problem. "The room tensed further, air crackling as if charged with static electricity. Emotions swirled like a wild storm, and the accusation hung in the air, sharp and biting. 

" Oh god, you two are going to be the enemies to lovers?" Robin pinches the bridge of her nose. Caught in the moment, you and Eddie shot her incredulous looks, both equally infuriated and puzzled. 

“Enemies to lovers? What, am I supposed to swoon now?” Eddie scoffed. " She's nothing but a little girl that needs her pussy fucked." The room exploded with silence. You and Eddie locked eyes, the air thick with tension, his words hanging like a dark cloud over the group. Anger flickered in your chest, a fire breathing life into your indignation.

“Such big words for such a boy like you, Eddie." The sting of your words wrapped around the room, silence falling heavy. Eddie’s smirk wavered for a second, surprise flickering in his dark eyes. 

“Boy? That’s all you’ve got?” 

" I don't think you even had a relationship ever in your life, Eddie. Did you ask someone out and they looked at you and said, no thanks, he's garbage? Oh poor you, " you taunted. Eddie’s expression darkened, the smirk faltering before vanishing entirely. A flicker of hurt glimmered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a scowl.

“Wow, real original there.” He crossed his arms. 

" Let me guess, you find some girl in a bar or somewhere and take them to your unmade, unwashed sheets of a bed and fuck them with your little dick until they leave and your back to square one..." Eddie’s jaw tightened, the tension in his body palpable. A flicker of something shattered in his gaze—was it anger, embarrassment? You couldn’t tell.

“Wow, real clever.” He stepped forward, invading your space, shadows playing as he towers over you. You had to admit, he looked really hot right now. 

" Bite me" you looked at him with a sneer. Eddie leaned in closer, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I will.” The words rolled off his tongue, a dangerous blend of challenge and flirtation. 

" If the two of you are going to fuck, please let us leave first " Steve whined. Laughter erupted once more, cutting through the thick tension that hung like fog between you and Eddie. The absurdity of the moment seeped back into your bones, laughter bubbling up unexpectedly. Steve’s face morphed into mock horror, eyes wide as he coverd his ears.

" You two are disgusting staring at each other like your ripping each others clothes off" Mike shivered in disgust. Eddie stepped back, amusement dancing in his eyes, a smirk returning to his lips. “What can I say? It’s a hot vibe we got going.” He playfully flexed his arms.

" As If I ever would sleep with him" you scoweld. " I don't sleep with small dickheads who reek of cigarettes and doesn't know what clean sheets are. Eddie’s laughter faded, a flicker of something sharper taking its place. “Clean sheets don’t do much good if they’re just going to end up in a pile on the floor.” He shifted, crossing his arms. 

" What? Are you poet now? Are going to lay down the lines now?" Eddie leaned back against the wall, arms crossed tightly, smirk returning with a hint of daring. “I could be. Got me all inspired, sweetheart.” He raised his eyebrows, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

" Look at yourself, Eddie. Your hair looks like it hasn't been brushed for days. You have drool in the corner of your mouth from looking at me too long" you flipped your hair with a smirk, " you reek and you have mud on your shoes." 

Eddie's smirk faltered for a brief second, and behind those dark eyes, you could catch a flicker of something—something like confusion, maybe hurt. But he masked it quickly, a defensive armor sliding back into place. 

" At least I don't talk too much and use my mouth for other activities" he smirks. 

" Ew! We are still here, you know?" Dustin groaned. " Eddie, I know your old and stuff but please.. " Dustin’s voice pulled the sharp tension from the room like a stubborn thorn, easing the simmering pressure for a fleeting moment. Eddie rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, an exaggerated sigh escaping his lips.

" Old? I have a stamina of a race horse. Just because I have few greay hairs, doesn't mean shit.." Eddie says. “Right, and I bet that ‘stamina’ is all in your head,” you retort, raising an eyebrow. Eddie steps forward, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Care to test that theory, princess?” 

" Again. We are in the room!" Steve shouts. " We don't need to hear you two." You roll your eyes at Steve, heart racing from the escalating tension. Eddie’s gaze remains locked on yours, an electric current buzzing in the air. 

Eddie hungrily looks at you, licking his lips. The heat in the room escalates, crackling with unspoken tension as you both stand toe to toe, unyielding and defiant.

" It's like we can smell you two. Sexual tension" Mike says. " Disgusting." The interruption seemed to spark another wave of laughter, but it simmered beneath the surface like an unspoken truth, charging the air between you and Eddie with an electric energy. 

" He smells like a trash can, no way he's getting near my bed or close to touching me." Eddie feigned a gasp, his hand clutching at his heart as if you’d dealt a mortal blow. “Trash can? Ouch, sweetheart. That’s cold.” 

" Go take a shower! A cold one at that!" Eddie squints, pretending to reel from your words, hand clutching his chest dramatically. “A cold shower? You’re trying to torture me now, Y/N?”

“Just trying to spare the world from your stench,” you shoot back. "God knows where your hands have been.." Eddie feigns horror, hands flying to his temples as if you’ve delivered a lethal blow. “My hands? Sweetheart, I’ll have you know they’re pristine. I only touch the finest things… like my guitar and—”

“NO! no need to hear anything anymore!" Dustin shouted putting his hands up. " I"m leaving, I don't know about you guys" he pointed to Mike, Steve and Robin. Dustin pushed through the door, shaking his head as he exited. “I can’t deal with this high school drama. I’m out!” 

“Yeah, good luck unpacking,” Steve called after him, barely containing his laughter. Robin follows knocking her shoulders into you, " I suggest you give Munson a bath yourself " she smirks. You chuckle, brushing her off with a light shove. “As if I’d waste my time on that.” The playful banter lingers, but the thick scent of unresolved tension still hangs in the air.

" You two are disgusting " Mike says. “Goodbye, Mike.” Eddie fires back, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he slides off the wall, an amused smirk etched across his face.

Eddie turns back to look at you as he stares at you with hunger and lust in his eyes. 

" Why are you looking at me, like that?" Eddie’s smirk falters slightly, surprise flickering across his dark gaze. 

“Like what?” he shoots back, defensiveness lacing his words, but the edge of tension still crackled between you two. 

“Like you’re about to devour me" Eddie leaned closer, the heat of his presence enveloping you as he tilted his head slightly, perplexity mingling with amusement in his eyes. “Maybe I am,” he murmured, his voice dropping low, teasing. 

" Eddie.." you warned. Eddie stepped even closer, the air thickening between you like a taut string ready to snap. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Afraid of a little... touch?” His smirk widened, each word laced with mischief.

“ Get your hands away from me" Eddie stepped closer, the space between you a charged battleground. His dark eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned forward, the scent of cigarettes and something inherently Eddie swirling around you. 

"Come on, don’t be scared," he says. 

" I'm warning you"Eddie leans in closer, just barely brushing against you, the energy between you crackling like electricity. “Warning me? What are you going to do? Call your biker buddies?” 

" I know karate" Eddie chuckles, the sound low and teasing, “Karate? You? Sweetheart, I’d pay to see you try.” 

“Try me, Munson.” Your voice trembles with defiance; the air between you thickens. 

His hand shoots out to brush your hair but before he does, you have hsi wrist in a tight grip. His wrist feels warm under your fingers, solid and unyielding. Eddie raises an eyebrow, surprise flaring in his dark gaze. 

" I told you" you challenged. “Damn,” he murmurs, a hint of admiration mixed with amusement dancing in his eyes. The gentle thrill of your defiance makes the corner of his mouth twitch upwards, like a wildfire igniting. 

" Let go," he pushes, but with all your strengh you push him towards you looking at him. " I warned you. Back off." Eddie's gaze flickers with a mix of surprise and intrigue. You maintain the pressure, holding his wrist firm, your hearts beating in unison, the space between charged like a live wire. 

“Wow,” he breathes. " You're something else, sweetheart." His admiration shoots through the air like a bolt of lightning, striking a nerve deep within. You hold his gaze, a mixture of defiance and thrill bubbling inside you. 

" Maybe you should think twice before challenging me" 

Eddie hums, smirking. 

" Fiesty" Eddie's smirk deepens, eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“Feisty? That’s rich coming from someone who’s about to get his wrist twisted off,” you challenge. 

" You're too cute thinking you can take me down. I'm stronger, older and faster." A sly smile curved your lips, unwavering. “Stronger? Maybe. Older? Definitely. Faster?” 

Eddie leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your cheek, a teasing smile barely contained. “I’ve got you there, sweetheart."

You gasp how close he is, scrunching his nose pushing his head away. 

" You reek" Eddie flinches back slightly, feigning mock offense, but the gleam in his dark eyes reveals his amusement. “Reek? This is the scent of a rockstar, princess. A scent of a real man, not like Harrington smelling like a laundry basket." You scoff, unable to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “Right, because we all want to smell like smoke and bad decisions.”

" You like me.." Eddie’s smirk widened, triumph glowing in his eyes. “See? You’re already starting to admit it.” 

“Admit what?” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively, though a smile threatened to break your facade. 

" You're into me, all of this" he points to himself. You huffed, arms crossed, but frustration battled amusement in your chest. 

“Please. This is hardly a fair trade—smoke and tattoos for sunshine and charm,” you retorted, an eyebrow raised defiantly. 

" I like my guys bigger and rougher" you add with a smirk.Eddie's laughter rang out, rich and unexpected, filling the air like music. “Is that so? Guess I must be lacking then, huh?” He straightened, feigning disappointment but the glimmer in his eyes danced with mischief.

" Guess so, grandpa" you teased. Eddie feigned a gasp, hand clutching his chest as if wounded. "Grandpa? Wow, that’s harsh. How do you even know I didn’t just fight the Grim Reaper last night for my youth?" 

" Because Eddie, you look like you lost a few battles" Eddie feigned a wounded expression, clutching his chest as if you’d delivered a lethal blow. “Lost? I fought the good fight, sweetheart. Just because I came out with a few more scars doesn’t mean I didn’t win.”

" I have deeper scars" you let his wrist go, looking away. Your gaze drifted to the cluttered floor, the assortment of boxes and memories strewn about like fragments of a jigsaw puzzle. Eddie noticed the shift, the flicker of vulnerability creeping back into your eyes. 

“ Sweetheart.." Eddie’s voice softened, the bravado slipping away, revealing a glimpse of understanding. He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that felt electric, almost grounding.

“Everyone has scars,” he said, his tone now measured, " but you're alive and here standing arguing with me and bantering, flirting with me." "Alive," you echoed, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. Eyes on the floor, you couldn’t shake the weight of the past. 

“Yeah, you are,” he pressed, stepping closer again, the space between you shrinking. He brushes your hair away, " I"m not a bad guy. But I am not going to let you get too close and treat me like I'm not a human being.." Your gaze flicked up to meet his, the intensity of his dark eyes holding you captive. 

" You're hiding yourself under the tattooes, the scars you say you have, the cigarettes, the music, all of it. " you tell him.

Eddie’s smirk faltered, his eyes glinting with something deeper, a flicker of vulnerability nestled beneath his typical bravado. “Hiding? Maybe,” he said quietly, the weight of his admission hanging in the air. 

" I bet if you cleaned up better, girls will like you" Eddie's brow furrowed, a flash of defensiveness igniting in his eyes. “Girls? Really? You think that’s all it takes?” 

" You would get your wrinkyl dick working" you chuckled.Eddie blinked, surprise flaring in his eyes before he burst into laughter, the sound rich and infectious. “Wrinkly dick? That’s a new one. You’re truly creative, Y/N.”

“ I mean your older than me, grandpa" you teased. Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically, able to switch from defensiveness to affected dismay with the flick of a wrist. “Older? Psh, I’m practically timeless. Can’t put a price on experience.” 

“ How many times you had sex then?" you asked, " Twice?" Eddie threw his head back, laughter erupting, rich and deep. “Twice? You’re cute, sweetheart.” 

“Cute? Wow, thanks for the compliment,” you shot back, crossing your arms. " I know your into me, Munson. That's why your still here.." "Into you, huh?" Eddie leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, a playful smirk curling his lips. “Right, because it’s not total agony standing in the same room as you.” 

“ I'd have you fall to your knees and you know it" The tension in the air shifted, electrifying the space between you. Eddie's smirk faltered for just a heartbeat before morphing into a mock challenge, his brow arching as he stepped forward. “You think so, huh? Pretty thing like you think I'm that easy?" “Easy? Hardly. I just think you’re all talk, Munson,” you replied, holding your ground, each word dripping with playful defiance.

" Oh, sweetheart. Don't play this game. Don't" Eddie closed the distance with a bold step, the smirk on his face morphing into something dangerously playful, eyes glimmering with mischief. “You’re really going to challenge me? This game you're playing? Because I play to win and I get it if you scared..." 

" I'm not scare of you" Eddie's smirk deepened, a glimmer of mischief lighting his dark eyes. “Is that so? Then why don’t we put your bravado to the test?” He stepped closer, his presence stealing the air between you.

“I think I got it..." you mumble, " You're afraid to fall in love..." you gasped. Eddie’s laughter faded, his expression shifting as the weight of your words settled between you like a heavy blanket. The playful energy morphed into something tenser, more fragile.

“Love?” he echoed, disbelief threading through his voice. “ that's stupid." Eddie scoffed, waving a dismissive hand as if your words were a filthy habit to be brushed away. “Love is just another way of getting yourself hurt.”

" Whatever helps you sleep at night" you shrugged. Eddie’s jaw clenched subtly, a flicker of something softening in his dark eyes. He stepped back, breaking eye contact for a moment, the tension coiling tighter between you like a winding thread ready to snap. 

“You think I want the puppy mushy love stuff?" Eddie asked. His voice was a low growl, underlined with an edge of frustration as he ran a hand through his messy hair, careless and wild. 

“Love is about connection and understadning-" Eddie cuts you off. " It's bullshit" he says. “Bullshit?” You echoed, incredulous. “You think it’s bullshit to feel something genuine?” 

Eddie’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, a fire behind his bravado. “Yeah, because it makes you weak." 

" Who hurt you?" You leveled your gaze at him, the question hanging in the air like a fragile thread. 

Eddie bristled, his facade cracking just slightly. “What are you? My therapist?” He shoved his hands into his pockets. 

" Your parents? Friends? High school crush?" Eddie’s eyes hardened, and he straightened, the carefree demeanor quickly replaced by a guarded shell. 

“Does it matter?” he asked, voice low. “Everyone has baggage. I don’t need to unpack mine for you, sweetheart.”

" So it's one of those" you nodded, understanding. “Good to see you get it.” His tone dripped with defiance, but the crack in his armor remained visible—a bittersweet reminder of the façade he wore.

" Do you ever let anyone in?" Eddie’s expression darkened, a mask of defiance shielding whatever fragility simmered beneath. “In? What does that even mean? Letting people in means inviting trouble.” 

" Don't you want connection? To be understood?" Eddie’s gaze flickered, uncertainty glinting behind his usual bravado. “You’re painting a pretty picture, sweetheart. But it’s hard to want a connection when everyone around you turns into lies,” he replied, a hint of bitterness.

" You really think everyone is out to get you, Eddie.." Eddie shifted, his expression flickering like shadows in dim light. “Not out to get me, no. But trust issues? I've got ‘em.” He leaned back against the wall, arms crossing tightly over his chest like a fortress under siege.

" Something we both have in common" you started to chip at your nail polish.“Common ground, huh?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, skepticism lacing his voice. “What does that even mean for you? You just moved here, and we barely know each other. What could we possibly share?”

" Music, banter, a good conversation, understanding, a rough past, parents that were shit...." His brow furrowed, surprise painting his features. “So we’re both a couple of misfits, huh? You think that’s enough to build some sort of bond?” 

" You're scared to get hurt as much as I am too" Eddie's gaze flickered, something raw threading through his bravado as he stared back at you. “Scared? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking for some buddy system.” 

" I'm not asking for frienship" Eddie’s brow furrowed, a mixture of confusion and intrigue washing over his features. “What then? A fleeting moment? A couple of laughs between two broken souls?” His voice dipped into a lower register, laced with an edge that

" Maybe.. someone to drink with when you can't sleep, someone to sit in silence with.." Eddie's expression softened for a moment, his bravado slipping. “You think I want someone sitting in my silence?” He pushed off the wall, challenging yet inviting.

“Why not?” you replied, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside. “Sometimes silence is louder than words. It can soothe the chaos, even if just for a moment.”

Eddie sighs as he shakes his head, " You don't understand, kid.." The air thickened between you, charged with unspoken truths. Eddie’s gaze hardened like stone, but behind the wall, you caught glimmers of vulnerability.

“Kid? Am I really that young to you?” Your voice dripped with playful sarcasm.

" You have that sparkle in your eye still, you're young... and too young to play with me.." Eddie says as his eyes flash something in them. “Play with you? Is that what this is to you, Munson?” you quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms defiantly. The earlier tension felt like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

Eddie chuckles, " I'm not going to end up fucking you.." You scoff, arms folding tighter against your chest, “Is that so? So you think I’m just another notch on your belt, huh?” 

Eddie’s smirk loses its edge, the flicker of mischief in his eyes.

" Sweetheart, I have more expirence than you. I know what I'm doing, have you even sucked a cock before?" You scoff, heart racing at the boldness of his question. “And you think that’s all there is to it? Just some stupid experience points?” 

“I’m just saying, if you want to play, play smart,” Eddie replies, " and if you don't, then don't waste my time." Your heart thudded, each beat echoing in the charged silence between you. “Waste your time? Is that what this is to you—a game?” 

Eddie leaned back against the doorframe, the tension coiling around you both like a plague. 

" You're difficult, you know?" He opens the door. The door creaked open, framing Eddie like a chaotic storm on the other side, hair tousled and mouth curling in a teasing smirk, but his eyes glimmered with something deeper—a raw honesty attempting to break through the playful veneer.

“ Are you really not going to let me see you behind the curtain?" Eddie chuckles, " You think there is one?" 

" I think you're pretty good at hiding yourself but your too scared of the world and the people that care about you" Eddie's expression hardened, his facade tipping dangerously close to crumbling. "Scared? You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then show me," you challenged, stepping forward, watching as his bravado flickered before your eyes.

" Show me the real Eddie Munson" Eddie hesitated, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features as he weighed your challenge. The charged atmosphere thickened, each heartbeat echoing in the space between you. 

He scratches his head, " You don't want to deal with me, sweetheart. " “I might surprise you,” you countered, your tone steady, eyes locked with his, daring him to back down. 

" Why do you want to?" He asked. "Because I know there’s more beneath all that bravado," you responded, stepping a little closer, testing the boundaries as the air thickened with anticipation. “Everyone has layers, Eddie. You can’t hide behind attitude and tattoos forever.”

[pettyprocrastination]

The Deathly Devout

Pairing: Executioner!König x Nun!Reader (Medieval au) 

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Religious themes and settings, talk of death, religious guilt, nothing much this is pretty tame. I have very little knowledge of how catholic confessionals actually go especially in a medieval setting forgive me. probably many spelling errors im sorry. 

Author’s Note: was talking to @thesadvampire about @hffhifjou fucking amazing art of the 141 as knights and now we have Executioner!König. This is mostly just a word burst from this morning but I really like this concept and wanted to share with you all 

Tagging some mutuals I think might enjoy this: @sprout-fics @humanransome-note @moondirti @fnny-bnny @yeehaw-djarin @captainsamwlsn

_______________--

     It was quite amusing to see the executioner in the confessional booth. 

     That isn’t to say that he doesn’t visit often, no. If anything it’s the exact opposite, Father Montomgery sees him more than any pious banker or self-hating gambler in the city. But the man was monstrous, broad in his shoulders with thick arms and legs to match, resulting in him having to twist and fold his body to properly fit into the little wooden booth. He could see the silhouette of the poor man’s shoulders hunched in and head tucked low. 

     It almost made up for how absolutely aggravating he was to listen to. 

     “Forgive me father for I have sinned.” 

     “May God, who has enlightened every heart, help you know your sins and trust in his mercy.” 

     König swallows. 

     “I killed a man this week.” 

     The priest, knowing this voice better than others and the hulking silhouette it belongs to, sighs. 

     “The thief, then?” He asks, voice dripping with indifference. “The little painter who was caught stealing?” 

     “Yes father.” 

     The “little thief” has been a blossoming apprentice under a most respected artist within the city, only for the truth to come out that he had been stealing funds from his mentor for months on end.  The king had suggested König simply cut off the painter’s hands and let him live out the rest of his days in poverty. “What better punishment for an artist than a life where he cannot create?” 

     But the end ruling was for the artist to lose his head in the town-square and König’s hands delivered the blade to his neck. 

     “That was simply an act of your work, my child.” 

     “But-” 

     There is a deep sigh from the opposite side of the booth and König falls silent, like a scolded child. 

     The irony isn't lost on the priest, that a man who must associate himself with the macabre so often is incredibly devout in his worship. But the humor was drowned out by how astonishingly self-loathing the poor bastard was. 

     “My child, do you believe our king is the one true king?”

     “Of course father.” 

     “And do you believe our God is the one, true, God?” 

     There’s a garbled noise that comes from the larger man, an incredulous sputtering at how the priest would ever assume he would say otherwise. 

     It makes the man chuckle. 

     “Of course father!” 

     “Then acting out the King’s law is acting out God’s law, is it not?” 

     There’s a pause, the priest can see the man shrink down into his seat even further, if that was even possible with how he contorted the bulk of his body to squeeze into the wooden booth. 

     “I’m not saying you cannot feel-” He waves his hand in the air, despite the fact that König cannot truly see him. “-conflicted, about your career. It’s not one that comes easily, I’m sure. But it is not one that makes you a monster, despite how many people would try to have you believe that.” 

     “Yes father.” 

     The man’s voice is a shred of what it should be- all but a trembling whisper that makes even the exhausted priest frown. 

     “Being an executioner isn’t an easy job. But it’s one that is needed nonetheless.” 

     König says something softly to himself, but the priest cannot be bothered to ask what. 

     “For your sins I-” 

     “Actually, father-” the wooden step creaked under his weight as he shifted on his knees. “There’s something else.” 

     “Oh?” 

     “I’ve been having impure thoughts about a woman.” 

     “Oh.” 

     The priest blinks. He had never heard the man speak of any sin aside from the violence he acted out on the King’s word. Truth be told he had begun to think the lad was so devout such a concept was all but foreign to him. 

     But this?

     “I’m listening, my child.” 

     This was far more interesting than listening to him bemoan about a town square beheading. 

     “She is-” König chews on the inside of his cheek, chipped teeth digging into the formed scars he has had since childhood from the nervous habit. “Promised to somebody else.” 

     The priest hides a snicker behind a well placed cough. 

     “Married?”

     “In a manner of speaking, yes.” 

      “I haven’t…acted upon them.” The man who has killed week after week fiddles with his hands, face turning bright red as simply speaking of his attraction toward the woman. The priest couldn't help but wonder who she was. Whether it be a kind tavern girl who ignored his gaze each day he walked by or a local prostitute that urged on his affection as long as he could afford her time. 

     It’s no secret that few women would concern themselves with the local executioner, if not even look him in the eyes. 

     “She’s a good woman of proper virtue, I would not sully her name in such a way.” 

     This poor bastard. 

     “Is she beautiful?” 

     “I’m sorry?” 

     “The woman you speak of, do you find her attractive?” 

     König swallows. “Yes, incredibly. Her smile rivals that of the sun and-” 

     “That’s more than enough.” The priest grins into his hand as the airy tone the executioner���s voice took on, like a poet reciting his latest venture. The man was properly lovesick, how charming. “I do not believe you have committed any sin in appreciating a woman’s beauty.” 

     “I haven’t?” 

     “Admiring a woman’s beauty is like admiring a piece of art, is it not?” The priest offers. “You are simply taking in the art that God has created with his own hands, my child.” 

     Before König has a chance to respond, through the lattice he sees a flash of white through the corner of his eye. A soft voice humming a tune fills the air, echoing through the church hall like a well-respected hymn. In a panic, König begins to stand his full height before he is halted in his tracks as the top of his head slams into the confessional roof. 

     “My son?” 

     “Ah, apologies father! But I have to leave because of-” 

     The priest nods. “Yes, yes of course.You are absolved of your sins, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.” 

     The final word is drowned out by the slam of the confessional door opening the man’s thundering footsteps receding from the booth. 

     The executioner stands to his full height as he exits the church. He shields his eyes as he steps outside, suddenly overwhelmed by the burst of sunlight. 

     In his haste, he did not see the figure at his side. 

     “Good morning to you, König.”

     The man jumps, twisting around to face you where you stand at the bottom church steps, broom in hand and a smile on your face. 

     “Ah! Yes! Good morning to you as well, sister.” 

     “A lovely day, is it not?” 

     Heat creeps up the back of his neck and he struggles to find the words he wished to speak to you. But you, ever patient and kind, wait without judgment. 

     “Yes, quite lovely.” 

     As König stares down at you, his heart beating as he watches the sun shine on your figure and your smile, he finds himself thinking of the Holy Father’s words.

     “You are simply taking in the art that God has created with his own hands”

     What beautiful art indeed. 

[cjsmalley]

Wished Away 8:

“Mom, Dad, help,” Dean said, holding a baby out.

A whirlwind of activity followed.

“He is Nephilim,” Castiel declared, having inspected the boy, “though I cannot tell his true parentage. It is being…hidden from me.”

The pediatricians took over as soon as the angel stepped back.

“Nephilim,” Danny said slowly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “isn’t that half-angel or something?”

“Precisely,” Castiel said just as slowly, measuring his words like they were his last rations, “They are…it is Forbidden for angels to lay with mortals. The creation of Nephilim is even more taboo as the first, the original, were monsters more often than not. It is an intentional act, to create Nephilim; the angelic parent must give a portion of their own Grace to the child during conception.”

“So they purposely knocked someone up then ding-dong ditched the kid,” Dean growled.

“Perhaps they heard that we are romantically involved, Dean,” Castiel offered, “and hoped we would take in the child as our own.”

“Well, of course we are,” Dean huffed, rolling his eyes at his angel who shook his head fondly, “I’ve already picked out a name too. A good human name.”

“Oh?”

“Jack, after Grandpa Jack. Unless, you have a name?”

“Perhaps…James, after James Novak?”

“Hmm…Jack James…James Jack…JJ…no, definitely Jack James. I like it, Cas.”

“Well, little Jack is healthy as far as we can tell,” Doctor Peterson joined the little huddle, “every scan we can perform came up normal, perfectly within range for his age group.”

Both Dean and Castiel visibly relaxed.

“We’ll get you set up,” Sam promised her son and might-as-well-be son-in-law.

A servant brought David’s old wrap and Sam showed Dean and Castiel how to wind it around their bodies to carry little Jack close to their hearts.

“Does the heart even beat?” Danny asked Castiel with interest, referring to his Vessel.

“Yes, I have kept all systems functioning as intended,” Castiel confirmed.

“Good. Because babies this young are used to heartbeats,” Danny explained as Sam worked with Dean, “they just spent nine months with their mom’s in their ears.”

“I see,” Castiel nodded, “well, Dean has assured me that I have a perfectly human sounding heartbeat.”

“What’s the likelihood that his mom was the human?” Danny asked next.

“Oh, quite likely…angels with female vessels most often shutdown the reproductive system. It would also be quite hard to hide the evidence of the gestating Nephilim. His mother likely died in childbirth; her body finally unable to handle his Angelic self.”

Danny winced; that would be a horrid way to die and he fried like a French fry.

Within hours, little Jack was all ready to go home.

Over the next few days, a room in the Bunker became a nursery and supplies loaded in.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

The Taming : Part Eight

A Clark Kent Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.8k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART SEVEN | MASTERLIST | PART NINE

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

            I look at what she’s made me do.

            The blood. The eyes peering around fearful & concerned.

            Some begin taking their masks off, the palms of their hands over their mouths in shock & horror. But not her.

            I look at her. She looks at me. A sea of people between us surrounding the body slapped onto the pavement.

            And she smiles.

            I don’t.

            It should’ve been her. She made me do this.

            I’m losing control. And she’s smiling.

            I have always known about the darkness within me, known the true monster I was always capable of becoming. Taming them—women, brats, lesser thans—kept that darkness at bay. To an extent.

            But her.

            There was a darkness to her I never anticipated.

            This was all her fault. She did this. That blood coating the pavement is on her hands.

            And she’s smiling about it because she knows.

            “I’m so sorry…” Nic said as she & Liv sat with you on your sofa.

            They flanked you on either side, Liv’s hand on your back as Nic held one of your own hands.

            Deceitful tears skipped down your cheeks as you sniffled.

            “We need to call the cops.” Nic announced.

            You quickly shook your head, “No. Please, no. I can’t… it’s done. I’m here, I’m safe.”

            “He can’t get away with this, _____!” Liv pushed, “Look at you! Your arms, your legs… I don’t want to imagine what else…”

            “What you see is the worst of it.” You lied, “He never laid a hand on me otherwise.”

            “He belongs behind bars.” Nic seethed, her lips pursed.

            But you kept shaking your head, “No. He won’t try again now that you two know. That’s all I care about.”

            “But what if he does this to someone else?” Liv questioned, “He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this.”

            “Well, he is!” You finally exclaimed, your tears drying up. Perhaps faking a kidnapping wasn’t your best idea, but it was your only one at the time. Now that your two best friends were doing their due diligence to protect you, you wished you would’ve just waited till Clark got home & fought with him. This was beginning to get boring.

            “I don’t care about what happens to other women!” You shot forwards, standing up to face them, “I care about what happened to me, & I want to forget it…”

            Nic & Liv traded worried looks but remained silent.

            “I just want to forget, okay?” You frowned, “I won’t stay here. I’ll stay with one of you & I’ll pick up more shifts at work. Keep myself around others. He can’t hurt me again. But if you make me call the cops & report this then I’ll have to live with this for who knows how long. It’s done. So let it be done.”

            Nic sighed & Liv hung her head.

            You made eye contact with Nic, “Please. Just… let me do this my way.”

            Finally, she nodded, “Okay. Okay, we won’t call the cops. But you are absolutely not leaving either of our sights for a long, long time.”

            “I’m okay with that.” You sighed.

            Liv shook her head in disagreement but didn’t speak on it, “Whatever you want, _____.”

            “Thank you.” You breathed out.

            “But first things first…” Nic pulled out her phone & began tapping on the screen, “Must cancel everything.”

            “What?” You questioned, “What are you talking about?”

            “My birthday.” She replied, “I don’t care about it after this. We should just have a girls night, the three of us.”

            “No, Nic, don’t.” You moved to sit between them, looking her head on, “Don’t do that. I know how much you put into planning your birthday party every year & I know how much you spend. Look. Perhaps your birthday party will be the best thing for me. Right? I can forget about it for tonight & have fun with my two best friends celebrating your birthday surrounded by people. There’s really nowhere safer right now.”

            Nic licked her lips, frowning in contemplation, “I don’t know, _____... I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

            “I second that.” Liv commented.

            You grabbed one of each of their hands, looking between them, “I have never passed on a party. Ever. And the quickest way to feeling like myself again is to party. It’s your birthday! C’mon. Don’t let this ruin it.”

            Nic flashed her eyes to Liv’s who shrugged her shoulders.

            “I’m serious.” You added, “Those last minute cancellation fees aren’t cheap. You’d likely be spending the same amount just to cancel.”

            Nic rolled her eyes at that but nodded, “Are you sure?”

            “More than anything.” You gave her a tight lipped smile.

            “Liv?” Nic asked.

            Liv sighed but nodded, “I mean we did have our gowns personally made. It’d be a waste, I suppose.”

            Nic chuckled lightly at that before looking back at you, “If at any point, you feel overwhelmed or unsafe you tell either of us immediately & we will clear out my house in a second flat.”

            “I know.” You squeezed her hand.

            “Fine.” Nic finally smiled, “Let the party of the year commence!”

            Nicola’s mansion sat in the center of one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in north Metropolis. You had practically spent your whole adolescence there. Her father was a world-renowned architect & her mother a former socialite turned private Pilates instructor. They were very well off & often gone. So, it was to no surprise that when the three of you arrived at her family estate that they were not present.

            As Nicola’s driver pulled through the gate, you noted the many trucks in the circular driveway: all hired help for the party set-up.

            Nicola’s driver opened the rear door & the three of you slid out.

            Nicola’s stopped to talk to some hired help about her party while you & Liv let yourselves inside. It was just past 3 in the afternoon & the party would begin at 8. There was still a lot to do but Nicola was always on top of making sure everything went smoothly & on time.

            Entering the mansion, you were immediately greeted by the grand foyer of the mansion. There was hired help doing their jobs as they nodded at you & Liv.

            Liv gently guided you up the stairs as the two of you made your way to Nicola’s bedroom. Once inside, you slipped out of Liv’s grip & draped yourself across Nic’s bed.

            “Gonna rest?” Liv asked as she stepped up to the windows that faced the rear property of the mansion.

            You moaned non-committedly, throwing your arms over your eyes.

            “Ya know,” Liv moved towards the bed & eyed you concerningly, “We can just hang out up here all night. Let Nic have her party but you & I can watch trash reality TV & enter a food coma.”

            Liv’s offer was light-hearted but you noted the concern, which only soured your mood. Sighing heavily, you rolled away from her & approached Nic’s walk-in closet, “I really hate repeating myself, Liv. I want to go to Nic’s party. End of.”

            You didn’t bother looking behind you to gauge Olivia’s reaction. Instead you ran your fingers along all the hung clothing in Nicola’s closet.

            “I don’t have a dress.” You commented openly.

            Liv was leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed as she watched you, “And you have bruises all over you. Gonna just prance around all night with them out & not expect anyone to ask questions?”

            She was challenging you & you were getting tired of her overprotective nature real quick.

            “Perhaps I’ll just use the same make-up your mother used to cover hers up years ago.” You replied snarkily.

            Liv’s lips parted in shock, “Wow.”

            You rolled your eyes & forced yourself to feign regret, “I’m sorry, Liv. I’m just… sensitive right now given everything.”

            “Ya don’t say…” But she didn’t appear to care for your half-assed apology.                

            The double doors to Nic’s room opened then & she appeared with a stack of boxes in her arms, “Help please!”

            Liv only continued to stare coldly at you. Ignoring her stares, you surpassed her & took a few boxes from Nic, glad to be free from having to fake anything, “What is all this?”

            Nic placed the remaining boxes in her arms on the foot of her bed, “More decorations. The party planner wants me to make a few decisions before final touches are made.”

            “Hmm.” You replied.

            Nic began sifting through the two boxes, unaware of the tense energy in the room & you took advantage of it.

            “Nic, do you have any gowns I can wear for tonight?”

            She was holding up two different green colored streamers, eyeing them intently before her eyes flashed to yours, “Um, I should, yeah. It’d be out of season though. Liv & I already had our dresses for tonight made.”

            Wearing something out of season made you cringe inwardly. You didn’t dress out of season. Ever. If anything, you set the trend for what would be in season.

            “I actually had two made.” Liv commented from where she still remained stood by the closet.

            “You did?” Nic questioned.

            “I wanted options.” Liv shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes avoiding yours as you glanced at her. “There’s only one issue.”

            You & Nic stared openly, waiting for her to continue.

            “The spare is green. Emerald to be exact.”

            Nic laughed lightly at that, “Oh.”

            “What?” You furrowed your brows.

            “Emerald is my theme color.” Nic revealed, “My dress is emerald.”

            “I had it made early before you decided on a color.” Liv shared, “Once you had, I told them to make me a different one.”

            You sighed. Nic never enjoyed wearing the same colors, after all, it was her birthday. She was intended to be the belle of the ball.

            “But I’ve seen your dress.” Liv started, “And yours is still more gorgeous than the one I had them design.”

            “C’mon, Nic.” You caught her eyes, “It’s one night.”

            The minor worry in her eyes disappeared when they landed on you. She released a breath, nodding, “Oh, god, who cares?! It’s just a color. Besides, emerald has always looked good on you.”

            You smiled at that, “Thank you, Nic. And Liv.”

            Liv gave a tight closed-lip smile.

            “But what about…?” Nic gestured to your arms.

            You glanced down at the marks, “I’ll call Maurice, he’ll know what to do.” Maurice was your personal make-up stylist for nights like this. You knew he would likely already be busy, probably having been hired by other women attending Nic’s party tonight, but you knew he would cancel all their appointments for you. After all, you were the reason he even had an expensive & extensive clientele.

            “If you say so.” Nic inhaled sharply, “Well, ladies, shall we get ready?”

            It was half past 8 & all of the guests for Nic’s birthday were still rolling in. All pulling up in either limo’s or classic old school Cadillacs. The three of you stood on the grand staircase in her foyer to greet guests as they entered. Music was already playing with a DJ in the formal ballroom & drinks were poured out by numerous bartenders around the mansion.

            Liv was dressed exquisitely in her one-of-kind ball gown. Her mask included an attached head piece that feathered out around the top of her head. She stood out among the peers. As for Nic, her ball gown was beautifully made, with gold details sewn into the fine fabric. Maurice was easily influenced to come over to help you cover your bruises & you had warned him to not ask any questions, to which he adhered to. But as he was there, he had the spectacular idea of painting the exposed lower half of Nicola’s face with a metallic green to highlight her dress & make her truly stand out more on her special birthday. Even you had to admit that Nic looked the part as the star of the event.

            As for yourself, your ball gown was simpler, as Liv claimed. The bodice was bejeweled but tastefully so. And your mask was basic except for a small feather detail. In the past, you enjoyed competing for attention, even if it was your best friend’s birthday, but because of your week-long disappearance, you unfortunately could not compete this year. You accepted that the following year you would put everyone else to shame, including the birthday girl.

            As the foyer filled & guests spread out to other rooms, the three of you finally descended the stairs. As the three of you were making your way down, your eyes fell on another woman in a gaudy yellow ball gown. It wasn’t until the three of you nearly reached the bottom that you realized who it was behind the mask.

            “Nicola, you look stunning as always.” Jane greeted, her smile poised yet forced. Nic returned the sentiment in kind, just as equally forced.

            “And Olivia, wow!” Jane awed, “You really have to share with me who your designer is.”

            “I don’t think you’d be able to afford him.” Liv replied playfully, though the passive-aggressive comment was still lingering in the air.

            Jane’s eyes finally landed on you, “And _____...” She eyed you, a smirk gracing her exposed lips, “I expected more. You’re not one to let your friends shine, after all.”

            You smiled through your sneer as you remembered seeing her pictures in Clark’s collection, “Tonight isn’t about me, Jane, or did you forget?”

            “No.” She shook her head, her smirk growing, “But it’s nice to see that you could let Nic have tonight be about her for once.”

            You opened your mouth to bite back but Nic jumped in then, “Thank you for coming, Jane. Have fun tonight.”

            Pressing your lips together, you watched as Jane nodded once before flittering away towards the ballroom.

            “No bickering tonight, girls.” Nicola spoke to the two of you over her shoulder, “Tonight is about fun, about me. Alright?”

            “Already sweetening my sourness.” Liv responded lightly.

            As for you, it angered you that Jane, of all people, called you out for how lackluster you looked. It drove you even madder knowing that it could’ve been her in Clark’s apartment right now had he gone that route. How disappointed he would’ve been.

            Moving throughout the mansion, the three of you made your rounds before ending up in the ballroom. The décor & lighting lived up to Nic’s tastes & standards as always. There was a sea of people dancing & a handful more along the walls or sitting at tables as they drank & mingled. Liv disappeared to dance with a handsome stranger in a mask while you & Nic moved to one of the bars.

            “Two glasses of rose, thank you.” Nic ordered from the bartender who was dressed in a finely pressed vest suit.

            “Right away.”

            While the drinks were being made, your eyes danced around the room. It wasn’t until your eyes fell to the other end of the ballroom where another entrance was that you spotted someone familiar.

            “Nic?” You questioned out loud as the young woman began walking towards the two of you.

            “Oh, I forgot to tell you.”

            “I didn’t know she was back in town.” Your felt your muscles tense as your cousin approached in a light purple ball gown.

            “Now you do.”

            The bartender placed the two glasses of wine just as Ariana reached the two of you.

            “Play nice, _____.” Nic whispered before greeting Ari then disappearing herself.

            “Hey, cous.” Ari greeted awkwardly.

            “Ariana.” You responded flatly.

            “I tried calling you to let you know. But the girls said you were MIA for a while?”

            “Mmm.” You didn’t recall seeing her missed calls when you had found your phone the first time, but you had to admit to being preoccupied with a revenge plan.

            “I like your dress.” She shared in an attempt to lighten the mood.

            “Yours is… okay.”

            She rolled her eyes at that but smiled nonetheless, “Look, I’m sorry for how we ended things the last time we saw each other. I’ve had some time to think about what happened between us & it wasn’t worth me losing one of my closest friends.”

            How big of you, you thought bitterly.

            Silence permeated the air between the two of you as you sipped on your wine, staring openly at her.

            “That all?” You finally questioned.

            Ari sighed, shaking her head once, “I thought perhaps you’d return the sentiment. I can see I was wrong.”

            “What do I have to apologize for?” You challenged.

            “I don’t want to fight or argue, especially tonight. If you can’t decide for yourself, for us as family, that you were in wrong at the end then that’s fine. I’m not going to push for it. You were always stubborn.”

            “Ari, you know what---”

            “No, _____. I’m not fighting with you. I’m not. I thought we could patch things up but I’m not going to be the one putting in all the work. So, have a good night. I’ll be around if you change your mind.”

            Before you could get another word out, Ari turned her back on you & left the ballroom. You felt your blood boil, mostly because you were always the one to get the last word in & turn your back on someone. You were only grateful that tonight was a night of faces covered in masks. No one would recognize you as the one who just got one-upped.

            Downing the rest of your wine, you ordered another. Just as your fingers wrapped around the glass thought, you felt someone join you at the bar on your left.

            “Even in a mask, I can spot in a sea of people.” The voice greeted. You rolled your eyes before finally facing the man who just couldn’t let you go after years of being split up.

            “Not in the mood, Andrew.” You told him, your voice hardened.

            He feigned hurt, putting his hand on his chest, “You jest, darling.”

            Oh, god.

            Though he was dressed handsomely in a gold pleated suit, you still saw behind the mask a desperate man that couldn’t take no for an answer. The last time you saw Andrew was he dropped you off at your apartment after the pitiful night out he called a ‘date’. You imagined either his ego was still bruised or he moved on from it so fast that he was now trying to win you over yet again.

            “May I have the next dance?” He offered his hand, bowing like a true old-fashioned gentleman. You felt the urge to humiliate him further, like you always had, but the alcohol coursing through your veins played into the ‘fuck it’ part of you. Eyeing his outstretched hand, you finished your second glass of wine before reluctantly placing your hand in his.

            “One. Then I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night.”

            Andrew grinned widely but accepted the command, “One is good enough for me.”

            Lurk by The Neighbourhood began to play.

            Andrew swung you out around him on the center of the dance floor before bringing your body closer to his. You allowed him to place a hand on your waist as he held your hand in his other. You danced in time with the song, swaying & dipping at moments when it mattered. At some point in the middle of the song, Andrew spun you out, & as he did, his slipped from yours & you stumbled slightly. But instead of stumbling & falling to the floor, you fell into the broad chest of another.

            The hands that belonged to the broad chest gripped your upper arms, their fingers digging in precisely where your make-up hidden bruises were.

            Your eyes flashed upwards & you felt your lips part in shock.

            Clark met your eyes from behind his black mask as he straightened you. He was dressed in a cream suit that hugged his muscles in all the right places. But your eyes quickly returned to his as he stared angrily at you.

            Andrew appeared beside the two of you then, his hand reaching for your wrist, “Thanks, man, but I got it from here.”

            Clark’s eyes flicked to Andrew, the fire there burning hotter.

            “Andrew!” You exclaimed, “I’m feeling dizzy, get me some water.”

            “But—”

            “Now, Andy. I need it.”

            His eyes danced between you & the strange man he had never seen before ultimately sighing & snaking his way through others on the floor.

            “What are you doing here?” You hissed harshly.

            Clark was quick to press your body against his, eliciting an electric spark shooting up your spine. He held you as if the two of you were dancing though neither of you moved with the music.

            “What are you doing with him?” Clark gritted out.

            “Dancing. What’s it look like?”

            “I don’t want him touching you. Ever. He does it again & what happens after will be your fault.”

            You ignored his threat, focused on your own questions, “How did you get in here?”

            “Are you truly that surprised? Security here isn’t that tight. It’s a birthday party for a rich girl surrounded by other rich kids. There’s really no one of importance here. Except for you.”

            You supposed you couldn’t be too surprised, after all, he often knew what you were doing at the exact moment you were doing them. You still never knew how he did it. Sneaking into a party, especially a masked one, was likely a cake-walk for a man of his ways.

            “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

            Clark peered down at you, bringing on of his fingers to your jawline, “You know why.”

            Chills spilled across your exposed arms forcing you to shudder in his grip. It was a feeling like no other & he was the only one to ever make you feel that way. You wanted to embrace it, but not until he gave you complete control. Forcing the euphoric feeling down, you steeled yourself in his hands before shoving yourself away from him.

            “You have five minutes to leave before I point you out to security. That’s my only warning.”

            You attempted to turn your back on him but he was quick to snatch you by the arm & force you backwards. His arm wrapped securely around your waist, your back pressed to his chest as he maneuvered your jaw in his hands to angle your head upwards to he could graze his lips along your ear, “And this is mine. Leave with me. Now. Or you won’t like what happens.”

            Your thighs quivered at the harsh tone of his voice, at his threat full of promise. But what Clark didn’t know was that you wanted to push him, push him as far as he could be pushed. Because only you would be the one to bring him back from the edge. And that to you was power.

            Spinning in his arms, you quickly leaned on your heeled toes to place a chaste kiss on his lips, sure to nip at his lower lip before harshly slapping him. The assault sounded loudly enough for those dancing beside the two of you & they stopped to stare.

            “May the best devil win.” You whispered so only he could hear before you slipped from his grip.

            Marching forwards, you saw Andrew approaching near the edge of the dance floor, a glass of water in his hand. Smirking haughtily to yourself, you walked towards him with intent. Andrew stopped in his tracks when he spotted you.

            “Here’s that water you—”

            The rest of his sentence you swallowed for him as you latched both of your hands around the back of his neck & kissed him passionately. Andrew yelped surprisingly before he finally began returning the deep kiss. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as one of your hands fell to the front of his neck in a gentle chokehold. When you finally stopped the kiss, you pulled away abruptly. He stumbled forward slightly, his eyes still closed & his lips still pursed longing for more.

            “Thanks, Andy.” You replied sweetly, running your fingers along his jawline, “You’re my hero.”

            Andrew slowly opened his eyes, clearly in a daze from the sudden kiss. As you took the glass of water from his hand, you sipped on it & swished it in your mouth to rinse the taste of him. As you did so, you spun around to face the dance floor. Much to your surprise, & disappointment, Clark was nowhere to be found. But you knew he saw what you had done. You knew he would be up to something. And you were only dying with curiosity to know what his next move would be.

            “Do you wanna go somewhere where we can be alone?” Andrew asked, forcing you from your thoughts. You had completely forgotten he was even there.

            “Not right now, Andrew.” You replied coolly, already returning to your apathetic self.

            “_____!” Olivia’s voice sounded from behind you & you had never been more grateful for her to appear then you had been in that moment.

            “It’s time to sing for the birthday girl, let’s go.”

            “Thanks again, Andrew.” You handed him the water back & didn’t wait for him to respond as you followed after Liv to the foyer of the mansion.

            There, a majority of the party guests had gathered as Nicola stood at the bottom of the stairs. You & Liv joined her on either side. The lights in the foyer dimmed & then everyone began to sing.

            “Happy birthday to you!”

            Your eyes danced around the masked faces in search of one. He had to be somewhere amongst the sea of people. Watching. Waiting for his moment to strike.

            “Happy birthday to you!”

            From the right hallway that led to the kitchen appeared Ariana & Jane as they carried out a massive three tired cake colored in black & emerald. Candles burned brightly on top of them as they grew closer to the birthday girl.

            “Happy birthday, dear Nicola!”

            You smiled along with Liv as Nic bit her lip in excitement with the arrival of her cake as they placed it on a small table just before her.

            “Happy birthday to you!”

            Nic smiled playfully before leaning forwards to blow out her candles. As soon as the last flame blew out, the guests erupted with cheers & hoots of hollers. Nicola spun around in her gown for all to admire in awe as a few serving staff appeared to begin cutting the cake. The lights in the foyer lightened up then & as your two friends waited eagerly for their slices, your eyes returned to the crowd.

            Where have you gone? Clark wasn’t one to give up so easily.

            “_____! Here’s yours.”

            Nicola handed you plate with a small slice on it & you peered at it for only a moment before a screeching scream sounded from just outside the front doors. Everyone stilled & the room was drowned in silence.

            “Oh, my god!”

            Then just as suddenly as time stilled, time seemed to fly by as guests rushed to the front doors & raced outside. Nic, Liv, & you were among the pile of people as they spilled outside & peered at something on the driveway. The three of you broke through the crowd & came upon a body on the driveway. But not just any body.

            Andrew’s body was face down on the pavement, blood pooling around his head.

            “What happened?!” One of the security guards yelled as he rushed towards Andrew.

            “He fell from the roof!” Someone else yelled out nearby.

            “It happened to fast!” Another chimed in.

            “Oh, my god…” Olivia breathed out, “is that…?”

            “Andrew.” Nicola finished for her in confirmation.

            Your heart was beating wildly, so loudly in your ears that you were sure everyone around you could hear it too.

            Clark.

            Just as you thought of him, you sensed movement to the right of the crowd & your eyes peered upwards to follow the movement.

            There he stood, still in his suit & his mask as he stared at Andrew’s body.

            One of the security guards had his fingers pressed against Andrew’s neck, “I’m not getting a pulse. Someone call 911!”

            “We already did!” A party guests responded.

            Not a second later, did sirens sound in the distance.

            As you stood there, Andrew’s body only a few feet from you, you felt eyes on you. You raised yours to meet his.

            He was angry. No. Not just angry. He was maddened. You could see it, feel it. His threat wasn’t empty, that much you knew, but to commit murder. To kill an innocent… You had pushed him to his breaking point. Finally.

            With that thought, & with the two of you staring at one another, all you could do was smile. You had won. You had the power.

            And as Clark’s eyes fell to your smiling lips, he saw his eyes darken beyond comprehension. He knew it, too.

            You were now the one in control.

after a 3 month hiatus i am very happy & relieved to be back!

this may not be the update you guys were wanting but if you've been following me for sometime you know i have to post in order due to what i like call my 'organizational ocd'.

that being said, summit will be updated next!

i also want to give a huge massive shout out to my followers who have been so kind in messaging me & checking in on me often & just for being patient & understanding. because of you i was able to come back without feeling like i let anyone down, so a massive thank you to you all!

i hope this long-awaited chapter is loved, as i love it a lot haha. anyways, i am happy to be back to my regularly scheduled program!

thank you for reading

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @rosecentury

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

[bobauthorman]

RWBY "Red" Trailer: A Review

I wanted to do an in-depth analysis on the video that first got the RWBY ball rolling. I am referring, of course, to the "Red" trailer, that first premiered at the end of the Red vs Blue Season 10 credits.

I say I 'wanted' to do an in-depth analysis, but considering the video content, that's hard to do. There is virtually nothing to really derive from this display. It's pure aesthetics, no plot or characterization. I've read that according to Monty Oum, it's not so much a look at Ruby Rose (Who isn't even named here) as it is a demonstration of her weapon, Crescent Rose. Everything else about RWBY, Remnant, or the story that will be told, is naught but a distant gleam in one animator and his friends' eyes.

We start out at night, amidst a full moon, as a little red hooded girl stands before a grave at the edge of a cliff. the skies are clear, but there is a light snow falling. I must once again state that the World of Remnant as we'll come to know does not exist at this point. We get more about what to expect from the song that plays in the background than anything shown in the trailer. And what's more, in hindsight, the song isn't so much about the Red character as much it's about the other girls, White, Black, Yellow (Later named Weiss, Blake, Yang).

"Red like roses fills my dreams and brings me to the place you rest"

Fitting words for a scene set at a gravestone. Could these lyrics refer to 'Red' being a dreamer? Or does she only exist in someone's dreams? Were she in the last thoughts of whomever the grave is for? It should be noted that when Monty Oum created the video, he gave no thought to what the grave was about, apparently putting it for the look of things.

(Taken from RTX 2016 Panel)

MONTY: (About who the grave is for) I don't know. We just thought it would be cool.

JEFF WILLIAMS: What if it is her mother?

"White is cold and always yearning, burdened by a royal test"

Red now walks through the woods, and the camera works puts emphasis on the snowy weather. "White is cold". Is this referring to White's physical state? Is she in need of warmth? Or perhaps it means her disposition. Or perhaps it means she has ice/cold related powers. As the White trailer show, all may be the truth.

"Black the beast descends from shadows"

Unsurprisingly, these ominous lyrics herald monsters that surround our little Red. (See what I did there). At a first glance, you would think that the character Black has some connection to the monsters. But this is misleading. Black in fact refers to Blake's initial dour and withdrawn personality, and her eventually developing expression. But 'Descends'...has Black been uplifted, or placed on a pedestal?

"Yellow beauty burns gold"

Here, as the monsters strike and Red vanishes, we see her true, uncloaked self, with the moon acting as a natural spotlight. The moonlight provides the 'yellow' and we see Red's cute face thus showing her 'beauty.' That Red is first shown during the 'Yellow' lyric may be a hint towards that she and the future character Yellow. The lyrics effectively spell out Yellow's outer character.

Then, we get to the action. Red first uses the gun portion of her weapon, shooting each monster with ease. Then, she unveils her scythe, showing that she can go for close-combat as well. There's not much to say after that, but I should bring up the faint smile Red makes before lopping on monster's head off. This tells us one thing;

This is a girl who does not shy away from battle.

[mephinomaly]

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Chapter 4

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Kaoru: Why would we take part in an experiment that sounds like something a sci-fi movie villain would do…?

Tomoya: “If we are able to duplicate people, duplicate idols, there are many advantages.”

Hajime: “Fundamentally, one person can only do so much. They cannot be in multiple places at once or complete multiple jobs at the same time.”

Tomoya: “However, if we can create clones such as ourselves, it will become possible.”

Hajime: “For example, say there is a super idol with plenty of talent–”

Tomoya: “This idol will be able to simultaneously sing and dance on stage, star in a movie, take part in a gravure photoshoot, recount a funny story on a variety show—”

Hajime: “These examples, that would otherwise be impossible, become possible.”

Tomoya: “If the original person ages or perhaps even dies, the copy will still be able to perform to the best of its ability.”

Hajime: “24/7, 365 days a year!”

Tomoya: “They won’t get sick nor be able to complain.”

Rei: Riiight, I suppose that’s true.

Robots do not have human rights. You do not even need to pay them a salary, all you must do is cover the cost of manufacturing and maintaining.

To a manager, it is better than a real idol whose body can rapidly degrade.

Koga: That’s fuckin’ insane, man. ES is… Is ES heartless or somethin’?

Rei: Nay, Itsuki-kun would say that it is only human nature to want to bend the world around you for your own wishes.

Kaoru: Itsuki-kun? Isn’t that more of a Tenshouin-kun thing to say?

Rei: He has a surprisingly unique outlook on art. I’m his friend, so I would know.

Adonis: Fumu… Personally, I understand the overall concept, but I’m struggling to accept this.

This sort of technology is an extension of drawing AI. When there’s AI that is better than real humans with beating hearts, that can easily be mass produced—

What do we do then?

AI has been able to accomplish tasks in seconds compared to us, who could take a year or even a decade to do the same thing.

And that can all be done with a simple press of a button.

In the beginning, we will abhor these “monsters”.

There are no laws in place in regards to non-human entities, so they'll be regulated in the same manner drawing AI are, right?

But as time passes, and new laws are passed, when those sort of things become commonplace–

In that future, is there a place for us, real people?

Koga: Y-You alright, Adonis? Ain’t you bein’ unusually talkative?

Adonis: I’ve been thinking about AI technology since Yuuki showed it to me. I’m not good at thinking, so I’ve yet to come up with an answer.

Rei: Adonis-kun is a serious boy.

For me, if that is the current trend, I want to follow it. Whether you dislike it or not, you cannot prevent big trends such as that.

Even if we feel disgusted and consequently don’t participate in this experiment, these guys will just ask other idols to do it in our place.

Hajime: “Yep.”

Tomoya: “We don’t particularly need UNDEAD’s help.”

Koga: Oi! What are you tryna say, huh? Ain’t you suppose t’be actin’ cute?

Tomoya: “We are aware that our actions and words are uncharacteristic of the original Ra*bits members.”

Hajime: “We, at best, are 40% accurate to the original people.”

Tomoya: “Our external appearance have been the main focus, rather than the internal, such as speech and behaviour.”

Rei: You are using tricky phrases that is unusual for Ra*bits.

Hajime: “Yes. In order to accurately replicate the internals, that is to say, one’s mental state and personality, we need data from your brains.”

Tomoya: “And that is what we are requesting of you for this experiment.”

Hajime: “Now, we will install these devices to your heads, or more specifically, your brains.”

Tomoya: “Then, we will download as much data as we can from your brains, and use it to recreate you.”

Hajime: “We believe we are capable of reproducing the identical idols, both on the inside and the outside.”

Kaoru: A-are you going to suck out our brains? Isn’t that kinda gross?

Hajime: “Your wording is misleading.”

Tomoya: “We are only obtaining data, your physical and mental will not be damaged in the process.”

Hajime: “Of course, private information will be protected in accordance with the law.”

Kaoru: ...

Hajime: “Well, if you don’t want to, you can always refuse.”

Tomoya: “If you refuse, we will ask other idols, such as Ra*bits, to participate in your place.”

Hajime: “However, the experiment cannot be cancelled.”

Tomoya: “Until we are able to create the perfect AI idol, the AIIE project will not stop.”

Rei: ...

[ ☆ ]

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

[skylarmoon71]

Mick Davies (Supernatural) - Oneshot

Word Count: 5k+. The ending for Mick made me sad, so I made this little fic to feel better. Enjoy!

They’ve made some questionable choices, so at this point, you really shouldn’t be surprised. 

“YOU WHAT!!” 

Dean winced. 

“Listen, I’m not crazy about them either. Especially after they tried to gank us.” 

“Then why the hell are you working with them!!” 

“Because we can help.” 

Mick walked into the room, and your entire posture changed. Instinctively you reached for your gun, and Sam stepped in front of you to deescalate the situation. 

Standing in the bunker, you wanted to understand why the boys were even contemplating this. It wasn’t just the fact that their operative had tried to kill the boys, but they’d managed to get Mary on their side. You would have understood if you weren’t a naturally cautious person. 

“All we’d like to do is help. This partnership would be beneficial on both sides.” 

You still weren’t convinced, but from the looks the boys were giving you, it’s clear that they’d made up their minds. You didn’t like it, but at the moment, you don’t have a choice. Lowering your gun, you glare at Mick. 

“If anything happens to any of them, you’re the first one I’m killing. Then I’ll gut that guard dog of yours.” 

Mick didn’t look very ecstatic at the threat, but nodded. 

“Understood.” 

That was the way it started. 

Mick would join on cases. There was still the search for Kelly, while Cas was working his angle, you were doing yours, so there were days you would be gone from the bunker days at a time. You were grateful that they’d offered you a place to stay a few years ago. It was nice to have a home, even if it was an apocalyptic structured safe house. 

“Back in the books again.” 

The sound of Mick’s voice diverts your attention. The frown on your face deepens, because the boys are making a food run. So you’re left babysitting. You just turn back to your book, and he wears a tight smile, sliding his hands into his pocket. 

“I understand that our partnership isn’t to your liking, but I assure you that our only intentions are the same. We all want to eradicate monsters.” 

“Is that what your little loose canon was doing when she tortured Sam?” 

He’s not impressed by the statement, and you finally stand. 

“Sam and Dean aren’t idiots, they know as well as I do how this all works. It’s smooth sailing right now, but what happens when we disagree with the way you handle a situation, are you going to kill us like you did those soldiers, or that girl?”

He seems surprised. 

You know he didn’t expect you to find out, but you’re frugal. You haven’t survived so long being careless. Before you met the boys, you were on your own. Looking out for yourself is second nature. Now with them, you feel obligated to do the same. 

Mick’s jaw is clenched tightly. 

“Everything we do is to protect this country.” 

“Is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night? It must have been like any other run when you lost your people.” 

Your taunt seems to trigger a response. He steps forward and you falter for a second, because he looks pissed. 

“You have no right to speak so lightly of their deaths. Those were my people!!” 

He’s never yelled before, and when you hear the sound of feet walking in, Sam is quick to pull you both apart, 

“Alright, cool down kids.” 

Dean says creating a barrier. 

You back up, now feeling a bit guilty. It’s true you were trying to get a rise out of him, but you didn’t expect him to get so heated. Ketch was a lot less empathetic, so you assumed the same with him. Turning your head, you walk off. No use poking the bear further. You can admit when you’ve made a mistake. 

After the argument, you decided that you needed a few days away from anything connected to the British Men of Letters. So you took a hunt in Oklahoma while Sam, Dean and Mick were tracking a werewolf in Iowa. 

At least that’s what you thought. 

“Damn hunters!!” 

You grunted as your body was thrown across the room. The landing was harsh, you definitely cracked a rib, or two. 

Staggering to your feet, the woman just laughed. You were disoriented, and your weapon was now on the other side of the room. 

“You’re going to taste great.” 

You lifted your hands to defend, but the gun shots echoed, and then you saw the blade, right before the head of the ghoul rolled onto the floor. Holding your side, you stared as Dean sent you a smile with a blade in his hand and Mick lowered his gun. 

“Looked like you needed a hand dear.”

You weren’t sure what was more irritating, the fact that Mick seems to have greatly improved at hunting, or that he’s looking so stupidly smug. 

There wasn’t much conversation after that. 

After the encounter, all of you skipped town. You were in the backseat with Mick, glaring at the boys. 

“I had it handled.” 

“Yeah, cause it looked handled.”  Dean snarks. 

“I thought you guys were in Iowa?” 

“We were, but when we called to check in and you didn’t pick up, we figured we’d make the trip.” 

You frown, looking out the window. Truthfully you’re grateful for the help. 

“Did you have to bring the brit?” 

“The brit that saved your life, might I add.” Mick counters. 

“Hey, I was the one that chopped her head off.” Dean complains. 

“You want a prize?” You ask sarcastically. 

Dean just continued to grumble childishly, and Sam laughs, shaking his head. 

Regardless of the outcome, the ghoul was dead and you’d escaped with minimum damage. With your pride in your hand, you went bounding through the door, straight to your room. Mick looked about ready to follow you to have a discussion, but Dean grabbed his arm. 

“Give her space. It’s gonna take a while for her to adjust to all of this.” 

Mick didn’t like leaving those matters unresolved, but Sam seemed to be in agreement, so he folded. 

He hoped that with each case that the four of you worked, the closer you would become. Sam and Dean were opening up, but you were still keeping him at arm's length. He knew he couldn’t force it. He’d gained similar resistance when he first tried to recruit hunters. 

It’s clear that this would just be another uphill battle. 

“Are you sure this is the right address?” 

“I believe I am capable of reading an address.” 

His sarcastic response just made you roll your eyes as you both exited the abandoned building. There seemed to be nothing out of place, but your eyes caught the markings on the wall and you froze. Dean and Sam had asked you to follow up on a lead that you had with finding Kelly, and somehow Mick had volunteered to be your partner on the trip. You thought it was another dead end, but the scuff marks in the design of angel wings were easy to spot. 

“Is that-” 

“An angel.” 

The new voice made you both turn around. 

“Are you the ones responsible for smiting my brother?” 

The man standing before you looked pissed, and you moved in front of Mick protectively. 

“We just got here. We’re fighting the same war here, stopping the birth of the literal spawn of you know who. How about we all play nice?” 

“And if I refuse?” 

You dropped the angel blade from your sleeve, gripping the hilt. 

“It wasn’t a request. Back off or you’ll be joining wings over there.” 

He gritted his teeth, but did nothing. After a beat, he stepped back, walking away. You knew with how many angels had already been killed, they couldn’t afford to lose anymore.

Your shoulders relaxed, and when you turned, Mick offered a small smile. 

“I appreciate you standing in to protect my honor.” 

He jokes. 

“Don’t read too much into it. It would just be too much work carrying a body. “ 

You said nothing else, walking away, and Mick just followed behind. 

More than anything, you wanted to hate him, if nothing but to ensure that when those British douchebags went rogue, you wouldn’t feel anything. Yet, with every case, Mick seemed to prove you wrong. He might not have been the best hunter, but he wasn’t like the others. 

Certainly not like Ketch who probably would have left you to bleed out the moment he saw you as a liability. 

That’s why you were a bit surprised that Mick was managing your weight as he rushed you back to the motel. Thes second you both got into the door, he was moving to the bed. You winced. You knew he was trying to be careful, his soft apologies enough proof. 

“I suppose Wendigos are more tricky than we assumed.” 

You’d managed to stop the cannibalistic monster, not without injury. The claw marks on your stomach were prominent. You laid back, trying to catch your breath as Mick rushed into the bathroom, probably to grab a towel. He came back out with one, moving to your side. All of his movements were careful, and when he lifted your shirt, the amount of blood was worrying. 

You were sweating profusely, and Mick cursed under his breath, moving to grab his bag. You were a bit out of it, but you could still make out a bit of his movements. 

“Cas and Dean are closer, but with the rate you’re bleeding, you won’t last longer than an hour, we must stop the bleeding now. “ 

It took you a moment to realize he was mixing something into a bowl. You weren’t sure exactly what it was, but then he pulled out a knife and slit his palm, leaking his blood into the bowl. In seconds he was back at your side, raising his palm as he chanted something you couldn’t make out. You did however feel the flash of pain in your torso. 

You screamed and Mick lowered his head, closing his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain. The spell was excruciating, he knew that, but if it was between a few moments of pain and watching you bleed out, he knew which option he would take. When your screams died out, your head lulled to the side, eyes closed. 

You were unconscious. 

Given the severity of your wound, he wasn’t surprised. He lowered to bowl unto the dresser, sighing in relief when the wound was no longer gushing out blood. This spell was a temporary fix. 

Many British hunters had used it as an aid in the more detrimental cases, mostly as a delay until they could seek proper medical care when injured in the field. 

He was back at your side, running his hand over your hair as he prayed that they would get here fast. 

As faith would have it, twenty minutes later Dean and Cas were practically bursting through the door. 

When they saw the wound, and your state, Cas was clearly confused, but he made quick work at healing you. Once it was clear you were out of danger, Mick explained the situation and advised that with all the screaming you had done, it was probably better that they left before someone came looking. 

Dean didn’t need any more convincing. 

By the time they made it back to the bunker, you were regaining consciousness. A bit groggy, but fine. 

Sam had practically crushed you in a hug and Dean, as well as Cas looked relieved. 

When you were out of your bloody clothes and ready to grab a drink for your crappy night, you didn’t expect Mick to still be there. He was in the main room, at the table, a glass in his hand. 

His gaze seemed distant, and when he noticed your presence, he stood. 

“Well, it seems my worry was a waste. You are practically a Winchester at this point. Indestructible. “ 

His playful words lacked the usual lightness to it, and you weren’t sure what to say, how to respond. From what Dean told you, the only reason you were still breathing was because of Mick. His spell had clotted your blood long enough to hold out for Cas. You’re appreciative, of course you are, but in your mind, there’s conflict. Maybe he could read it, because he placed down the glass, keeping his distance. 

“I know you don’t trust me, and there isn’t much I can say to change that, but I do want to help.” 

You could see how earnest he was, and he had saved your life, so maybe you could extend just a small olive branch. 

“Okay.” 

It was all you could get yourself to say. 

He wasn’t sure what it meant, but there seemed to be a mutual understanding of what this was. So he gave a nod, lifting his glass with a dip of his head. 

After that, there was a little more ease in your exchanges. You had his back, the same way he had yours. The more time you spent, the more he learnt and the less you felt like you had to keep a constant eye on him. 

On one of your more casual hunts, there was less injury. Aside from the door Mick had gotten thrown through, it all turned out okay. 

“I suppose a popped shoulder is a win in the eyes of most hunters.” 

Seated in his spare room at the bunker, you kept lecturing him to stay still so you could reset his shoulder. He finally obeyed and with one quick move, the crack echoed and he groaned as you removed your hands. He did a few rolls, testing it, before he turned to offer his thanks. 

“Good as new. Cheers love.” 

He commended. 

You lifted your head to respond, but the lack of distance became very noticeable and you swallowed at the way his eyes were now watching you so carefully, as if taking it all in. 

“Thank you, truly.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

You muttered. 

You couldn’t maintain eye contact, looking down at your feet. 

You weren’t sure why you were now acting so bashful. This was Mick after all. You wish your heart would obey and stop hammering. Nothing good would come of this. 

“I’m going to check in with Dean. “ 

It was a lame excuse, and the only one you could give as you exited the room. 

The longer he was around, the harder it became to deny that your once mistrustful view of the man was changing. With each case you seemed to observe more, like how dependable he was, or intelligent, especially when it came to lore. 

He might not be the best fighter, but he held the wisdom of a dozen encyclopedias. Then there was the way your name would just roll off his tongue when he was imparting knowledge on a case, or informing you of some monster you lacked insight on. 

“(Y/N).” 

For a moment you paused, because he’d been using your name more and more, and each time it left a little flutter in your stomach. When you realized all the eyes in the room were trained on you, you were quick to school your features. 

“What is it?” 

You tried your best to keep your tone neutral as you took a seat, waiting for them to update you on the most recent case with a witch. 

Once the tasks were dished out, you were all splitting up to work every angle. Mick stopped you before you could enter the car, sending you a subtle look of worry. 

“Are you alright?” 

You nodded, a bit distracted by the way his eyes emitted so much, just for you. 

“I might not be your biggest fan at the moment, but I am here for you.”

That felt like another part you couldn’t shake, his worry for you. There was nothing truly wrong, but he was here offering to be a shoulder for you to lean on. 

“I’m fine.” 

Nothing else was said. Just like that, the three of you were back on the road as Mick headed to his headquarters to catch up on reports. 

The case was easy enough, had you not been distracted the entire time. Hence the reason you were now passed out on the couch in the bunker. After the initial ganking of the witch, you hadn’t managed to evade the last attack. The second they realized you’d been struck, Dean was hitting the books and Sam was dialing up Rowena for advice or help. 

When you passed out, their worry increased. 

The second Sam was off the phone, Dean was ready for a miracle. 

“Good news, this spell isn’t fatal. It’s more of a truth serum. Rowena says it should wear off in a few hours. Turns out the witch gave it to some kid at the high school, she was hoping to take out an entire class, but he messed up the spell. He ended up making a mistake, so it wasn’t as potent. All the kids just got madly honest.” Sam reports. 

“That’s why she went after the girl. When it wasn't working in her favor, she figured she’d do things the old fashion way.” 

“Exactly.” 

Sam concludes. 

Dean just shrugged. 

“Glad we ganked her ass. How long until (Y/N) wakes up?” 

Sam looked a bit worried. 

“Rowena didn’t say. All the other kids went back to normal after a day, so we might just have to wait it out.”

Dean nods, then eyes you a bit suspiciously. 

“Hey, the spell was made for teenagers right?”

Sam’s brows furrowed. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“Well, wouldn’t the effects be different? Teenagers are all hormones but she’s an adult. What exactly are we preparing for?” 

Sam seemed a bit curious now.

“Not sure. I was just happy there was a no death slip attached to it.” 

Dean couldn’t help but agree. Cases, especially with witches tend to be a lot more detrimental.

When they heard you begin to stir against the couch, they both moved to your side. Dean kneeled and Sam took a seat. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” 

You were rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“I..I don’t know.” 

You started to straighten against the cushions. 

“Well we’re glad you're okay. When that witch came at you we got scared. I made sure and put a half dozen bullets in her, just on principle.” Dean states. 

Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean continued to grin, relieved that you were for the most part, okay.

“You..you saved me from the witch?” 

“Sure did.” Dean boasted. 

He expected you to make some snarky response, but when you looked at him, your lips quivered. He was about to question it, but you leaned forward, wrapping your hands around his neck as you hugged him tightly. 

He fell back on his butt in surprise, you landing right into his lap. 

“You’re the best Dean, thank you!” 

He was a bit confused, and Sam raised a brow as Dean made a face, patting your back awkwardly. 

“You’re welcome…?” 

Sam shrugged, and you pulled away with a smile, turning your gaze to Dean.

“You helped too didn’t you Sam?” 

“Uhh..y-yeah I guess.” 

You just gave a tearful smile as you stood, moving over to hug him too. Given the adjusted position, your chest was basically pressed into his face. He froze, arms extended awkwardly as you held him there. Dean was doing his best not to burst into laughter at his brother’s predicament. 

“You guys are the best friends I’ve ever had. I love you.” 

“L-Love you too..” 

Sam muttered, hoping that you would pull away. You did after a few seconds and he wore an awkward smile as you beamed at him. 

“Well, umm since you’re okay, let’s just stay in for the time being. Just to make sure there aren’t any lingering effects.” Sam advised. 

“Sounds good to me! You’re so smart Sam, and your hair is so cute and fluffy.” 

You reached for it, patting his hair like a child and this time Dean let out his laugh. You weren’t sure why he was laughing, but you joined in. 

For the next few hours, they just did research and stayed updated with Cas and Mary. You would go back and forth making sweet comments and asking innocent questions like..

“What’s a treesome?” 

Sam almost choked on his beer and Dean was quick to swipe his laptop from its spot on the table before you. He closed it, clearing his throat. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

Sam sent Dean an unimpressed look. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault she’s got a teenage brain right now.”

“Maybe if you watched something other than porn it would help.” 

“What’s porn?” 

“NOTHING!” 

They both replied. 

You simply shrugged, and Dean took a seat next to you to get back to the books. You were bouncing in your seat in a childish manner and Sam couldn’t help but appreciate how carefree you seemed like this. 

“I guess with adults it makes them innocent and honest.” He observed. 

“I guess so.” 

You watched Dean who seemed curious. 

“What?” 

“You have pretty eyes. You’re really handsome Dean.” 

His cheeks flushed at the compliment. It’s not like he’d heard anything new. It was just different coming from you. 

“Well I mean, I guess.” 

Sam was laughing at the suddenly bashful Dean who was usually able to talk up a storm with any woman. 

“Shut up Sammy!!” 

You giggled, placing your cheek in your palm. 

“You’re handsome too Sam. Really handsome. I’m so lucky.” 

Sam gave a smile. 

“Thank you (Y/N).” 

You were smiling right back at him as the door to the bunker opened. The idea of more company made you happy, Sam could tell by the excitement in your eyes. When they saw who it was, the nodded to the man. 

“Mick, what’s up?” 

Sam spoke casually. 

He was about to inform on any new updates, but you jumped out of your seat and they all turned to you. Your cheeks were flushed and you were stumbling over your words, just staring at Mick. Your behavior had all of them lost. When you were finally able to speak, it was all hurried. 

“I-I’m going to my room!!” 

You were bolting off without so much as a goodbye, and silence stretched in the space for a good few seconds. 

They were all a bit puzzled, trying to figure out your weird behavior. Then, just like that, Dean looked like a lightbulb went off over his head, and he shuffled over to Sam whispering something in his ear. Mick looked on curiously. 

“You’re kidding.” Sam stated. 

“It makes sense.” Dean reasoned. 

“Something I should be informed of gentlemen?” 

Dean pursed his lips, then grinned. 

“Actually, how about you do a little errand. (Y/N) left these books. You should take it to her. You know, a show of good faith.” 

Mick didn’t really see the angle Dean was working, but he had to admit that any way to get on your good side seemed beneficial. 

“Very well.” 

He moved to the table, taking the books. 

As he walked over, he tried to analyze why you’d practically sprinted to your room without an explanation. He stopped when he got to his desired destination. 

With a soft knock, he stood waiting to be invited in. 

“Come in!” 

Your voice sounded chipper, a  complete contrast to the way you were when you bolted earlier. 

He opened the door, greeted by a bright smile. Yet, the moment you saw it was him, that expression changed. 

“M-Mick!” 

He closed the door, fully expecting you to maybe yell at him. Maybe he’d done something you disliked. It wouldn’t be the first time. He held your books, about to present his case, but he was a bit thrown off by your flustered expression. 

“D-Did Dean send you because he knows I have a crush on you!” 

Your tone was accusing, and suddenly your nervousness made sense. 

Mick stammered, a bit lost, clearly surprised. 

“I..I..pardon?” 

He must have heard wrong, you could not have said a crush.

You were now pacing. 

“We got back from a hunt with a witch and I got zapped. So they said we’d stay in. They are so nice. We’ve been hanging out in the bunker all day. Dean is so funny and Sam is so sweet. I’m so happy. They took care of me. They even let me help with research. B-But then you came and he must have noticed. I’m so stupid why didn’t I hide it better.” 

You dropped onto the bed, eyes lowered to your lap. 

“I’m sorry Mick, I really didn’t want to make things awkward.” 

He was still trying to figure out what was happening. You were acting completely out of character. Then the story of witch hunt ran back over in his head, and the pouty expression on your face started to make sense.

“Those wankers.” 

They knew full well that you’d been spelled. It’s clear they’d sent him in for their own amusement. He wasn't really sure how to handle the situation. Mainly because this was out of his element. He was used to your combative nature. Now you were almost meek, and apologetic. Sighing, he placed down the books on your dresser next to the door. 

“I get it if you don’t want to be friends anymore Mick.” 

You sounded hurt at the thought, and he let out another heavy sigh, moving over to you. 

“There is no need for an apology. It’s clear that all of this is out of your control.” 

Truthfully, these feelings you’re now expressing might just be effects of the spell. He was hesitant, but he finally took a seat next to you on the bed. You lifted your head, and the adoration in your eyes made him swallow. 

“So we can still be friends, even if you know about my crush?” 

He let out a soft laugh despite himself. 

“You don’t truly have such feelings. This witch that you spoke about, it’s clear that you are under some influence.” 

You shook your head defiantly. 

“That’s not true! I’ve liked you for weeks!” 

The confession was humbling. He should have left well enough alone. Heaven knows when you were back to your old self you would have his head, but he couldn’t help it. He’s been intrigued by you for some time now, but you’ve made a habit of keeping your distance due to your mistrust of him and his organization. Now here you sit, looking at him so cutely, confessing feelings he was not even aware of. 

“Do you truly have feelings for me?” 

He was more curious than anything else. 

“I do! You have really pretty eyes, and you’re super smart. Just like Sam. You’re also really nice sometimes, even when I’m mean to you.” 

A small smile made its way on his lips. 

“Is that all?” 

He urged. 

“Y-You’re accent is really hot  and you smell so nice all the time. It used to drive me crazy, especially when we’re on cases and I ended up covered in monster guts. You always seem to be glowing. It’s like magic.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. He supposed he could get used to this. It’s obvious you were struck with some kind of truth spell. 

When you looked down and started to fidget, he leaned in a bit closer. 

“Is something wrong?” 

You nibbled on your lower lip. 

“Do you…do you like me too..” 

It was just above a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how to answer the question. The both of you had gotten a bit closer, at the very least you hadn’t threatened him in a while, but that was as far as your relationship had gone. You weren’t his biggest fan, even if he desperately wanted that space to be gone. 

He’s afraid that regardless of whatever feelings he holds, it would not make much of a difference. You and him are acquaintances at best. You’ve made that quite clear. 

“You like someone else, don’t you?” 

You seemed a bit crushed at the idea, and when you lifted your head, he could see the fresh tears. He wanted to remove them, even though he knew he was the cause. It made no sense. To feel so strongly even though he knew the minute this spell wore off, the both of you would go back to being enemies working towards a common goal. 

He would say anything in that moment to change your expression. 

Cursing under his breath, he cupped your cheek. When he pressed his lips to your own, he swore he’d never felt more alive. His heart was racing in his chest, and a part of his brain expected you to pull away, or punch him in the gut, but you did the opposite. Your hands gripped into his suit, pulling him as close as your bodies would allow and his expression evened out as he melted into the kiss. 

Consequences be damned, this was the best feeling in the world. 

~Extra~

“They’ve been in there a while, you think we should check on them? Maybe she’s killing him.” 

Dean stated. 

“With what? Cookies. She’s like a care bear now.” Sam reasoned. 

“I’m a bit concerned that you know what a care bear is Sam.” 

He just gave Dean an exasperated look.

They were about to go into a verbal battle when he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. You broke the corner with a bright smile. 

“Mick and I kissed!” 

You looked ecstatic, and Mick stumbled into view, looking awkward. 

“Really dude, when she’s spelled?” 

Dean really was the last one who should be judging. 

“I’ll assure you that it never went past a kiss.” Mick spoke, fixing his clothes. 

“There’s more than kissing?” 

You seemed generally lost and Mick’s brows furrowed as he turned back to the boys. 

“Care Bear.” 

Dean stated as if it would explain everything. 

Sam just pressed his palm to his face. 

[brionbroadway]

“Princess, is it your time to rest? Or do you want your story to continue?”

Rosamund is glad to be asked.

This is what she wants: a chance to write her own story outside of the narrative that’s planned for her. She is not ready to rest--she already rested for a hundred fucking years--and true love is no longer an option. It must be something else; there has to be something else for her to choose. She will take her scrap of a page and discover what it is.  

“I don’t think it’s my time to rest.”

“Then I think—”

She feels the briars before she sees them, wrapping around her heart the way she guaranteed a lover never would. With each pulse of her heart, the briars pierce it.

But her heart must be stronger than everything than every piece of Thumbelina, because she splits in half.

“I take it back!” Rosamund yells. “I take it back!”

“Oh, my dear Rosamund.”

The voice comes from a briar that’s coiled itself into her ear. It’s unrecognizable as any individual fairy, but it drips with both the saccharine sweetness and depraved wickedness Rosamund has realized they all possess.

“You cannot take a choice back, my girl. This is why you should have trusted the ending that was written for you.” The voice tuts, a disapproving parental figure that never gave Rosamund anything but rules. “Your gifts did not come without a curse. You have sacrificed the one condition that would break it. You have rejected rest. What did you think was left for you, Sleeping Beauty?”

Rosamund tries to use her own voice, but a briar invades her mouth and replaces her smile. Its teeth are sharper than her own.

“Oh, I know what’s that like.”

The voice in Rosmaund’s heads changes, a conspiratorial older sister like she tried to be Red. The briars morph into thick strands of golden hair.

“It’s a shame we never got to talk.” Rapunzel’s voice comes from everywhere her hair touches.  “We have a lot in common. Locked away, someone else claiming to know what’s best for us, unable to make our own choices…”  

The briars spin, like hair being twirled around a finger.

“But when we did write our own story, we gained power. I know it hurts, Rosamund. I know it may not seem like it, but my hair hurts too. It chokes me, and restrains me, but more importantly than any of that, it keeps me safe—”

She’s cut off, because Gerard is eating Rapunzel on the battlefield. Her voice returns, hoarse from screaming. It sounds the way her hair feels in Rosamund’s throat.

“He will consume all of you, Rosamund. He has already done so to Elody in their marriage, though she does not recognize that. You must him put him to sleep.”

Rosamund cannot see a prince on the battlefield, only a monster. 

Suddenly, the hair transforms into chains.  

“Hello, my love.”

The deep, cruel voice of the Baron of Bricks feels like the weight of the chains on Rosamund’s skin. It comes from the ones trapping her heart into beating.

“I know, of course, that I am not your true love,” he says. “I know you will not get that. But, I do believe we have more in common than either of us first thought. You have rejected death, and I respect that, but I must warn you that it will not last as long as Death is around. She just took a Beast. She can certainly take a Princess.”

Rosamund cannot see a girl on the battlefield, only The Big Bad Wolf.

“If you need to put her in a stew, I have a recipe. Otherwise, you have all the tools you require. You must put her to sleep.”

The chains drop, but Rosamund is quickly snatched up by sharp claws. The Baba Yaga runs them down her face, her neck, and finally stops at the same wrists she considered feasting on. Her voice comes from the wounds she created.

“Thank you, Princess, for your gift. I am taking good care of your true love. He is only feeling the pain you would have caused each other after happily ever after.”

She cackles, and it infects the wounds.

“You made a wise choice in putting him to sleep.”

The claws release Rosamund, and the briars consume her again. Slowly, a pattern appears on them that represents a kind of evil she still had not accepted existed.

“I am sorry my son could not keep you safe, Rosamund. You do not need to worry about punishing him for that; I assure you I will take care of it.”

The Stepmother’s voice sounds like Rosamund’s own thoughts.

“Sleeping Beauty, I know what it’s like to have a role assigned to you. But, I also know what it’s like to edit the story. We can change this together. You can make your own choices, just as you wished. Put them all to sleep, Rosamund, and we will write the stories this world deserves.”

There is no happy ending for Rosamund. Only what must be done in this room.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

"Are you hurt? Put something cold on it!"

Behold! A new story about our Farmers! Today's heroes are Julian (my OC), Miranda (@amishasp) and Wren (@girls4zelda) ❤️ Enjoy!

**********************************************

"Twenty-eight, thirty... Thirty-six, forty. Aha, exactly forty pieces of gold ore!", Miranda summarised, counting aloud the loot she had collected in the mines. Getting up from the flat stone on which she was sitting, she turned to Julian and Wren, who were standing nearby and also counting the ore that had been mined on the lowest levels.

"Ok...", Wren clucked her tongue, "I have fifty-six!", the red-haired girl said proudly, tying her bag of precious ore and slinging it over the shoulder as she approached Miranda. "Quite a good loot for a not-so-lucky day, I would say". Wren smiled at her friend, who nodded in agreement. Welwick's predictions would not matter to them - teamwork and friendship were the key to a successful hunt.

"Julian, what is it? You done already?", Miranda turned to the blond-haired boy who was still counting his loot. The man's multi-coloured eyes were staring intently into the backpack.

"Yeah, yeah, just a second... Oh shoot", The young man sighed disappointedly, dropping his bag to the dusty ground.

"Everything okay?", He immediately turned round at Wren's worried tone.

"Well, not really". Zipping up his hiking backpack and walking over to the two girls, Julian continued. "There was a hole in my backpack. Apparently, some of the loot fell out somewhere, and I only have ten ore on my hands...." He lowered his head guiltily. All three of them silently counted the total amount of gold ore they had on hand - 106 pieces. And they need exactly 120 - just the right number to create exactly 30 megabombs for Marlon's special order, which they set out to do together. After all, the three of them will get the job done faster, and the reward will be shared equally.

"Don't worry about it, bro", Miranda patted Julian's shoulder encouragingly. "Just fourteen gold nuggets and we can leave the mines and eat at the Saloon!"

Everyone cheered up at the prospect of Gus' delicious meals and headed confidently for the elevator door.

"I must say, that our foray was quite successful." With a tired yawn, Miranda decided to keep the conversation going as the three of them slowly made their way down the elevator to level 110.

"The monsters were a pain in the arse, though", she added.

"Uuuugh, so true..." Wren couldn't help but agree. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, Welwick's prediction that "the spirits are in a terrible mood today" ("Kiss my arse, spirits!", Miranda had said, not very politely) had played a part in their gold hunt: there were more monsters than usual, which made for a lot of hard work in extracting the necessary ore.

Julian had no time to comment on this before the lift came to an abrupt halt.

"Strange," Wren said, "I thought we had chosen level 110." The girl looked at the dial, which showed level 98.

"We did." Julian gripped the hilt of his sword. "Get ready. Looks like there's something outside."

The elevator door slowly open, and the trio could see nothing but darkness. Some blurry figure approached the entrance.

Wren drew her dagger from its sheath, ready for battle, and Julian was ready to get into a defensive posture.

Miranda, however, was ahead of them all.

With a battle cry, she rushed towards the entrance, swinging her right leg and striking the figure she and her friends assumed to be a shadow person. The dark silhouette let out a shriek from the blow and bent slightly. Miranda decided not to wait for the enemy to come to his senses, and with her left fist she struck the monster in the chest. The figure fell from the hard blow and began to whimper in pain. It was the whimpering that made the three of them stop, for the shadow man would have growled, whereas the sounds from the unfamiliar silhouette were similar to... human?

Julian quickly pulled a flashlight from his pocket and shined it on the moving figure.

"Lance?!" Now that was someone they hadn't expected to see here, but the second-in-command of The First Slash clan.

"Welp.... This is awkward." Not to say there was regret in Miranda's voice at seeing a familiar.... hmm. Well, it was a little hard for her to call Lance a friend. Near Lance himself, a small bag lay on the ground with some notes, a knife, and purple mushrooms falling out of it. "Right, that dumbass was babbling something about mushrooms early and wanting to study them," Miranda thought.

Julian and Wren ran up to the pink-haired adventurer, who was holding onto... *ahem* something was below his waist with both hands. Apparently Miranda's foot had hit the man's sorest spot, and the left hook had hit him in the solar plexus, judging by Lance's hitched breath.

"Forgive us, we didn't know it was you," Wren examined the adventurer for injuries, thankfully nothing serious. Well, aside from his... dignity.

Julian gave Lance a hand, helping him slowly to his feet. "We weren't expecting any adventurers in the mines, so we immediately took you for an enemy. Are you alright?" He asked, to which Lance just nodded his head, gratefully accepting the help. He carefully crouched down on the rock, moaning slightly in pain. The blond-haired farmer looked sympathetically at Lance: he of all people should know how painful a blow below the belt was. Ouch...

"Erm, I'll go and break some ice on level 40 so he can put it on his di- uh... bruise. Be right back. Don't die in there." Miranda said a little gruffly to Lance as he continued to burn the girl with his gaze. Five minutes - and the long-haired girl returned with a small bag from which droplets of water were slowly dripping.

"Me and Wren will check this level then, in case there are any shadow people here," Julian beckoned Wren with his hand, asking to keep him company.

"Sure. We'll hang around here. Take care, alright?" Miranda replied to her friends. By the time Wren and Julian had moved a little further away from the elevator, Lance, who was sitting on a rock, had managed to get his breathing back to normal. One spot, however, still ached.

"You know," he began, "not that I'm insist for an apology, but don't you think it would be appropriate to..." Before Lance could finish his sentence, an empty iron can with Joja's logo on it flew into his head.

"Didn't get to the ice, it's too high. You can put this on your... ugh, privates. it's cold enough." Miranda said carelessly to Lance.

The pink-haired man looked disdainfully at the old rusty soda can. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the urge to forget his own upbringing and hurl so much cursing at the girl that he'd have to go to Yoba's temple for swearing.

"Thank you very much for your kindness." Even though Lance's voice remained calm, you couldn't help but hear the sarcasm in his voice. "But I think I'm going to decline your help."

"Oh, really? A shame," Miranda's voice was also drenched in venom. "It's not good to refuse kindness. That's arrogance. I was actually trying for you, looking for something cold."

"I'm not going to attach this. Or anything. Especially in front of you."

"Listen here, you piece of shit!" The girl hissed. "I'm going to shove this can right up your a-"

"We're back!" Julian and Wren showed up just in time.

"There's no one else on this level but us. I even managed to get some gold ore, enough for our- is that a Joja cola can?" Julian raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"What?" Miranda crossed her arms, turning to Julian. "As good as any ice."

Lance only snorted irritably. Wren couldn't help but giggle at the funny picture, and Julian only sighed tiredly. It looked like they'd be getting to the Saloon much later than they'd planned.

[alovesongforu]

One - My Mom Finally Goes Crazy

Have you ever watched any race in your life? If your answer is 'yes', I bet you've asked yourself  "How can they run so fast and so much? Is that even humanly possible?" 

I used to ask the same question, but now, pursued by hundreds, maybe thousands of flesh-hungry monsters, I have the answer: yes. When your mind is filled with a surviving instinct, it releases a funny hormone in your blood that keeps you going on, no matter what's happening. 

It doesn't matter if your lungs burn so much they feel like combusting, it doesn't matter if every fiber in your legs is screaming for rest, it doesn't matter if you have a bite so deep in your neck that blood gushes.

It keeps you going, numbing your pain and clouding your senses with just one message: Keep going or you'll die. The name of this hormone? Adrenaline. I could continue my story from here, but I don't think you readers would understand it fully, so let's go back in the storyline.  

°°°

June 5, 2019. Brazil, São Paulo.

12:30 PM.

I hate school. Even though I have changed schools multiple times, bullying haunts me. I had no friends in Guarulhos, the only ones I managed to make turned their backs against me, I was beaten every single day. 

In São Paulo, things are not that different. People ignore me, unless they want to ridicule me. I don't get beaten anymore, no one scratches my desk with insults, telling me to kill myself, but I'm alone. Lonely. I try to console myself, saying that it's better being alone than poorly accompanied, but it still hurts.

Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I'm so sorry! My name is Beatrice, Beatrice Sunnova D'Agostino.

I'm ten years old and I study in some fancy private school in the city of São Paulo. My mom is an artist who gained fame not long ago. As I was saying, I'm completely alone. The only friends I have are my mom and...Well, I know it sounds weird, but pigeons, bugs and rats. 

I also know what you're thinking right now. "Poor girl, she's completely nuts...", but I'm not. These animals, 'pests', they talk to me. And even if I am crazy, could you even blame me? If you, my dear reader, went through everything I've been through, I highly doubt you wouldn't think like me or be friends with them too.

I'm a person of many thoughts, so I could spend days and days just narrating all the incessant questions or stories that I create in my head to entertain myself and forget that I don't have a single friend my age, but I think I need to contextualize you from reality.

Right now, I'm having math class. I know, I know, a torture, but it's the last class of the day. Then, I'll go back home and no one will throw paper balls at me, with messages like: "you look like a pig", or "why are you still here? Nobody likes you". I'll be able to eat delicious food, wear comfortable clothes and read until it's dinner time again.

Mr. Ricardo (Yes, in Brazil we don't call our teachers by their last names.), was saying something about... to the power of, I guess? I'm not paying attention, all I can think about is how today's hell is going to end in...ten minutes, no, nine.

You must be asking yourself 'Is this school so bad? Why don't you tell everything to your mom, Beatrice?' Firstly, call me Bea, please. Secondly, my fellow: This is a true hell on earth. I hate this place with all my might. Every day, when I wake up, I pray this place has caught fire, with everyone inside, preferably. 

Now, your second question: My mother became a millionaire, I know she did. But I've only been studying here for a year and a half, and I don't want my mother to spend any more money on me, going through the trouble of buying a new uniform, transferring me to another school, and so on. On top of that, I don't have much time left at school, just six and a half years...Yeah, maybe I do, but I can handle it, I swear.

Mr. Ricardo continued to fill the board with equations, and although I copied it obediently, my ears were focused on the conversation of the clique of girls behind me. Maria Luisa, Sarah, Marina and Carla. You know that group of girls in your class that you clearly see that are nothing more than bitches with some sort of Regina George syndrome, but for some reason, everyone likes them? Yeah, that 's them.

Don't get me wrong, I love girls and I think it's silly to talk negatively about their interests because they are purely feminine, but these girls are demons. They have power over the class and, if they want to, they will make children be excluded and looked down on by the entire school for simply not agreeing with them.

"You're all going to sleep at my house this weekend, right? My parents have already bought everything." Marina said.

"Yeah, but I think I'll just show up at night."

Carla replies.

"Why?" "I have mass in the afternoon." 

"If that's the case then don't even come, Carla! You'll miss all the fun!" 

They were toxic towards each other, I know that, but deep down I wanted a friendship like that. Someone to talk to during class and keep me company during recess. Normally I stay in the school terrace, talking to my pigeon friends. I sound ungrateful right now, yes, I love my pigeon friends, I really do, but I would like to be friends with some girls my age.

With that horrible, booming siren, the bell rings, marking the end of classes. Thank God. I didn't care about my material when I put it in my backpack, I just threw it in and left the room. Nobody talks to me when I'm at the exit, but that's fine. I have my headphones and my music to distract me while my mom doesn't arrive. 

I don't live far from school, but my mom insists on driving me and picking me up every day. That 's fine by me. Even if there are other people from my school who live in the same area as me, I would just be ignored the entire way, so it's even better to get a ride. I'll finally have someone to talk to.

My headphones were blasting with 'A Little Death' by The Neighborhood, and I'm sure other people could hear it, but I couldn't care less. For as long as I can remember, music has always been everything to me. When my mom would fight with my grandfather because he called me a pest, I would just turn up the volume on my headphones and suddenly I would be in another world. 

One where my family loved me, one where I wouldn't have sucked the last drop out of my mother's beauty, one where I wasn't a money-eating parasite. Well...you can understand that music is important for my survival, right?

Even if I was distracted with the music and people passing through me, I still could see my mom's gray VW Virtus stopping in the driveway. I sighed, relieved. Today's hell was over. Now, let me make one thing clear: there are many children in the world who hate their parents for not spending time with them, but not me. I love my mom with my soul. In my eyes, she is the best woman in the world. The most beautiful, nicest, most pleasant, most talented, most perfect in existence. 

My mom is my idol, and if she wanted to touch my bones, I would open the flesh of my body with my bare hands just to satisfy her wish. I hurry to get into the car and immediately realize that there is something wrong. Her smile was forced, her eyes, always so curious and expressive, showed pain and sadness. 

"How was your day, sweetheart?" 

She asks me, but everything about her attitude was wrong. "It was... good. What about yours?"

"It was good too. What do you think about eating filet parmigiana today?"

"Yeah, sure! I'll never complain about filet parmigiana..."

°°°

Even if my mom was pretending everything was okay, we both knew there was something wrong. She couldn't keep a poker face to save her life. The ride home was silent. Not the comfortable silence type. The uncomfortable one, super uncomfortable. 

When we finally got home, I jumped out of the car in a hurry, desperate to escape that strange atmosphere. It was even worse in the elevator. Other people occupied that small cubicle, and my mom wouldn't dare say anything with other people around. I know that.

Even though I was desperate inside, I calmly opened the apartment door, dropping my backpack and taking off my shoes. It wasn't a house rule to take the shoes off to enter the house, but I liked the feeling of my bare feet on the cold floor, even in winter.

The platter with steak and parmigiana was already waiting for the two of us at the table, and my mom served it to me. I poured some juice into my glass while she tried to make conversation. 

"So...nothing funny happened today?" I forgot to mention, but I hate worrying my mom, so I lied to her for maybe the second time in my life. I said I made three friends: Luana, Pedro and Zé. It wasn't a lie, I just didn't mention that my friends were...well, pigeons. But I think it's just a trivial detail, right?

"No...you?"

"...Same..." She then began to cut the food on her plate, but didn't put anything in her mouth. I can't take it anymore. 

"Mom, what's going on?" 

She purses her lips. 

"Bea, we need to talk." 

"Yeah, I can see."

My mom takes a deep breath, she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"Bea, I already  told you how I met your father, didn't I?"

"He appeared in one of the exhibitions from your college project."

I was starting to feel restless, why didn't she tell me what was happening at once?

"Yes...we started talking, he invited me for a date and...well, I'll spare you from the details-"

"Mommy, where exactly do you want to get to?"

"Bea...I fell in love with a god."

...Uh, okay? If she wants to say this to herself, it's fine, but what do I have to do with this? I probably made a face and let my emotions very clear, because she lets out a whimper, wiping away a tear. 

"Sweetie, you're a demigod."

[celestiall0tus]

Miraculous Absolution - Chapter 5 - Bloodline

Beginning || Previous || Next

            Marinette arrived at the Cheng family estate. She was greeted by her uncles in the reception room. They showed her to her quarters in a separate wing of the compound from the main house. She settled in before she met Xiu in the garden. She found Xiu in a small pavilion near a fishpond. She greeted Xiu, shaking her hand, then took a seat. Tikki sat on her head as Xiu addressed them.

            “A pleasure to see you, Marinette. A shame we must meet under these circumstances.”

            “It is.”

            “How’ve you been in light of these dark circumstances?”

            “I am struggling. The departure of my parents has been difficult to cope with.”

            “I know all too well. I did not witness my parent’s deaths in such a way, but no matter how they go, it is never an easy thing to process. Please, do tell what happened to them. I want the truth from you, Mar-Mar.”

            “They were murdered by a monster created by a rogue holder that goes by Papillon. The monster was my father’s business rival. He met a worser fate than Mom, who spared herself the worse of it thanks to Tikki.”

            “It eases me a little to hear Sabine accept Tikki, even if in her final moments.”

            “I was wondering, why exactly? Mom never mentioned anything about her family. Just a little in passing.”

            “I can’t imagine she would have. Sabine wasn’t the strongest of daughters. She had failed to be what she needed to be. To represent the family as she was meant to. Because of her weakness, she ran away with the assistance of Tikki, bringing shame to the family face.”

            “Tikki? What did you do?” Marinette asked.

            “I gave her my blessing for her to go wherever she pleased. And the means to do so.”

            “But not you?”

            “Correct. I remained with Scarlet as I was still hers. I remained with her a little while longer before she decided to hand me over to Pudding.”

            “It is as Tikki says. I decided it was time to pass Tikki along. Despite Sabine’s own views on her heritage and our traditions, I would not see Tikki remain with me longer than she was supposed to. We had tracked her to Paris. There I took the mantle of Scarlet Knight until I found her.”

            “Wait, you were the Scarlet Knight?”

            “I was once, but not anymore. Not once I gave the earrings to Sabine.”

            “I see. So, why give Tikki to Mom?”

            “Because of tradition, Mar-Mar. When the first daughter is of age, she is given the ladybug earrings. She is the protector of the family and face of all of us. That would have been Sabine, but then she left as per Tikki’s wishes. Despite this, I wanted to keep with tradition and pass along the earrings. Even if Sabine didn’t want them.”

            “Because she didn’t feel worthy?”

            “That’s what I had believed. Tikki, is this true?”

            “I do believe so. Pudding renounced me many times as she attempted to be the holder she believed she was supposed to be. The final renouncement came with her death when she succumbed to her injuries. However, now I belong to Marinette, who wishes to bind with me. Together, we will return to Paris when the period of mourning is over. As is her duty as a ladybug.”

            “Of course. We will see her trained to the best of our abilities. Though, if the threat is as I fear, we may not have long to train you. How long before you will want to return to Paris?”

            “How long would be acceptable?”

            “We will ask that you stay with us for the mourning period. For Sabine, it will be two months. However, there has been a slight snag in those plans,” Xiu admitted.

            “What happened?”

            “Sabine’s body has vanished. A holder by the name, Volpina, claims the enemy stole Sabine’s body.”

            Marinette’s jaw dropped. “I can’t-! Did they say anything about Dad’s body?”

            “Stolen as well.”

            Marinette covered her mouth. “What could the enemy want with them?”

            “Well, from what I’ve learned, you face the butterfly of transformation. That one is, uh, unique. See, its power allows it to transform any sort of matter into different objects entirely. Say a ball to a cone… or capable of rearranging DNA to turn people into monsters,” Tikki added nervously.

            “Is that what he does when he makes those monsters?”

            “To a degree. It looks temporary, but I wager that is on purpose.”

            “Why? What’s the point?”

            “Hope,” Xiu said.

            “Hope?” Marinette asked.

            “Yes. Tell me, are there heroes handling the monsters?”

            “Yes,” Marinette admitted begrudgingly.

            “There’s your answer. Give the people hope while subjecting them to fear. Show that there is a way to be saved, then use that against them.”

            Marinette hummed. “That… makes sense. Recently, the people have started turning against the heroes and demanding the ladybug. But would that mean that Papillon was actively searching for the ladybug?”

            “We may not know. However, knowing this, what will you do?”

            “I will be a hero. I will save the city from Papillon and show that stupid cat what a real hero is.”

            “What happened, Mar-Mar?”

            Marinette hesitated. She looked at her lap and balled fists. She pursed her lips as tears fell. Tikki patted her reassuringly.

            “It’s ok, Marinette. You’re with family and a former holder. Scarlet will understand.”

            Marinette took a breath and shared the interaction she had with Chat Noir. She fought to control her rage and bitterness, but it seeped through. She hated the venomous words she spat, but she hated him. She would tear down his team and him from their pedestal and show them what a real hero is.

            “Shame to hear of such a black cat. We’ve known many black cat holders through our history. They always brought us good luck. We typically aimed to marry off our ladybugs to the black cats when we could. The union always brought a period of prosperity. Would you consider the black cat despite this?”

            “Never. I will never love that beast.”

            “This isn’t about love, Mar-Mar. The black cat is a very auspicious match and good for the face of the family, which you will become. You would both bring a period of good fortune to the family. Even if you hate him now, I ask you consider a union with him for the family.”

            “No way. Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

            “Do you? Let me judge him,” Xiu said.

            Marinette pulled out her phone and found a recent photo Luka sent her. She proudly showed it to Xiu.

            Xiu grimaced. “What is that? His body is covered in ridiculous art unbefitting a man. And what are those piercings on his lips?”

            “Snake bites. Isn’t he cute? He’s my Luka.”

            “Mar-Mar, this won’t do. What does this boy have to offer to the family?”

            “Offer? Does he have to offer anything?”

            “He’ll be a hero that will assist Marinette in defeating Papillon,” Tikki interrupted.

            Xiu grunted. “I see. Which kwami will he possess?”

            “I, uh, haven’t gotten that far. I have a few ideas. I just need to see who I can find. It’s why I ask for a month to track down my sibling kwamis and direct them to their new holders,” Tikki explained.

            Xiu bowed her head. “Very well, Tikki. Take the time you need. We’ll begin the training that doesn’t require you. Speaking of which, how long will you want to stay, Mar-Mar?”

            “Well, I’ll just be training at this point, yes? Seeing as Mom’s body is gone.”

            “Correct.”

            “And, Tikki, you’ll be getting my team their kwamis within the month, right?”

            “Sure will. You just tell me who you want on your team and I’ll see to it,” Tikki exclaimed.

            “Alya and Luka for sure. Perhaps Alix and Ondine too.”

            “Alix was the red head that stood with you against Chat Noir, right? So, who is Ondine?”

            “That was Alix, and Ondine is Alix’s, uh, friend for a lack of better terms. Maybe partner is better, but not even quite that. I just know that if Alix is going to be risking her life, Ondine will want to be by her side. Those two are ride or die.”

            “Absolutely.”

            “Then with them getting their kwamis soon, could you tell them to keep the people safe until I arrive? I’ll let them know too, but could you as well?”

            “Of course, but how long are you thinking of training?” Tikki asked.

            “I’m thinking six months. I’ll need time to grow strong and master your power, but moreover, I need to conquer my grief. If I run back into the field with this weight on my heart, I’ll fall to my enemy since he targets those with dark emotions and desires.”

            “I see. Very well. I’ll inform them as I direct the kwamis. Which, no time like the present!”

            “Hold a moment. We have one other thing to discuss,” Xiu interjected.

            “Did I forget something?” Tikki asked.

            “You haven’t bound with Marinette yet, correct?”

            “Correct.”

            “Then there will be no time to lose. We’ll have the ceremony tomorrow. That must happen before all else.”

            “Ceremony?” Marinette asked.

            “That’s right. It’ll be where you properly activate me before the family,” Tikki explained.

            “Oh. Will there be any conditions?”

            “None at all, Mar-Mar. This is your birthright. Tomorrow, you will follow in tradition and claim what has always been yours. As every other Cheng first daughter. Come, we must get the preparations ready.”

~~

            Chat Noir stood at the edge of a roof. He took a break from his patrol while Carapace and Queen Bee took over. He huffed and sat down. His mind wandered back to Mari and her words. He pulled down his hood and ruffled his hair. There had been no end to the endless assault as she always returned to his waking thoughts. Her words, her anger, everything. He shouldn’t care. He’d been doing this for two years and seen many like her a thousand times over. She should be no different. That didn’t change the fact that she was, and he couldn’t figure out why.

            “Troubled?” a voice whispered.

            Chat Noir looked up as a woman appeared from thin air. She had on a white and pink crop halter, white shorts, and white and pink platform boots. She wore white knee-stockings with mouse embroidered fishnets covering her thighs and pink garter belts over the fishnets. She had a single long white glove on her left arm with a short glove on the right with more mouse fishnets. Her long hair pink with white dyed ends accented with white, pierced mouse ears. She smiled at him with her pink eyes gleaming with curiosity.

            Chat Noir crossed his arms. “What did I tell you about your outfit?”

            “Oh, come on. I serve a different function than the rest of you. Me and my fiancée alike.”

            “Whisper,” Chat Noir scolded.

            “You know I’m right. Besides, you know that Gerrad likes this. Said it would be amazing press. Y’know, one of the few things your team is good for these days,” Whisper pointed out.

            Chat Noir growled. “You got over your nerves fast.”

            “What can I say? I’m my mother’s daughter through and through.”

            “Right. Why are you here?”

            “Well, I saw you were upset and Bunelle was getting tired, so she went to bed. So, I came out to see you myself.”

            “You should be looking for Papillon.”

            “And I am. I just haven’t seen him yet.”

            “And what about a couple days ago when we had the perfect opportunity to catch him?”

            Whisper crossed her arms. “Mourning the loss of two amazing people that didn’t deserve to die. Paying our respects and offering prayers to our other parents. Lamenting that they wouldn’t see our wedding like we always dreamed.”

            Chat Noir looked away. He opened his mouth to speak but froze. The shocking sensation of a kwami’s activation held him fast. Images flashed before his eyes. A young woman had her back to him. She was dressed in an elaborate red hanfu dress with gold spots. Golden ladybugs were embroidered into the long sleeves and trail of the dress. Her blue hair was pinned up in a low bun with a pair of ladybug hair sticks. She turned to him in flashes until he saw her eyes, but not her face. Her bluebell eyes were clouded with rage and contempt.

            Chat Noir fell to his knees as the sensation and images left. Fear, anger, and repulsion tore through him. It was her. It was the Ladybug.

            Whisper squeaked and scurried about as she muttered in Irish. Chat Noir raised a brow seeing the excitement and hope in her eyes. He opened his mouth but was interrupted when Carapace and Queen Bee joined them.

            “There you are,” Queen Bee said.

            “Evening, Whisper,” Carapace said.

            Whisper paused. She grinned, bowed, then returned to her scurrying.

            “What’s up? Is there trouble?” Chat Noir asked.

            “If you count the activation of the ladybug trouble, then yes,” Queen Bee said.

            “What did you guys see?”

            “An admittedly beautiful woman in a rather expensive looking Chinese dress. When she turned to me, there was no face to her. Just a silhouette,” Queen Bee said.

            “Same thing, but I saw her eyes. In them was warmth and familiarity,” Carapace remarked.

            “Same for me. Warmth and a lot of affection. Lots and lots of affection,” Whisper added.

            Chat Noir hummed. The ladybug holder had to be someone he, Whisper, and Carapace all knew, but Queen Bee didn’t. He wasn’t sure who that could be, but there was an itch in the back of his mind. He tried to ignore it despite it screaming out that it could be Mari.

            “Now, this is quite the development,” Volpina’s distorted voice remarked.

            The group turned as Volpina materialized.

            “Volpina!” Chat Noir hissed.

            “Now, now, is that any way to greet me, stupid cat?” Volpina asked.

            “Get out of here. We have enough trouble without you adding to it.”

            “Don’t worry, stupid cat, I’m only here to share my thoughts and my sympathies.”

            “We don’t need or want your sympathies.”

            “But don’t you realize your lives are numbered. The Ladybug heard our cries and has finally answered them. The people will have what they’ve always wanted: liberation. She will free us from the tyranny of Papillon, and you.”

            “Everything I’ve done is for this damn city and its people. If they think they can do a better job, let them fucking try,” Chat Noir roared.

            “One of them is,” Whisper muttered.

            “Oh? Is someone you failed taking action? Is that who our ladybug is? One of the many that you failed throughout the years?” Volpina purred.

            Chat Noir growled.

            “Hey, why don’t we stop before we do something regret, right, dudes?” Carapace interjected.

            “Regret is for those with weak hearts and wills, to which I have neither,” Volpina remarked.

            “Maybe just don’t egg him on further? It’s been a long month, dude. Just leave my bro alone, please.”

            “Very well. I shall leave you alone for this night, but know, your days are numbered. Oh! And I look forward to your downfall. It’s been a long time coming, stupid cat.”

            Chat Noir snarled and lunged for Volpina. She vanished into a puff of smoke as his claws made contact with her. He stood there a moment longer as he seethed. He shook himself and headed up to the edge of the roof.

            “I’m heading home. Can I trust you guys to contact me if a monster shows up?”

            “Always, dude. Take it easy.”

            Chat Noir nodded. He hurried home where he de-transformed. He headed for his room when an intense pain spread through his chest. He grunted and clutched his heart. He leaned on the wall for support. Each new breath was shorter and harder as he struggled. A soft whimper escaped him as his head felt light and the room spun. He slid to the floor as he broke into a sweat and his body shook. The pain in his chest worsened as memories assaulted him.

            Adrien heard every foul remark his father, Gabriel, threw at him. The endless need to give two hundred percent of yourself no matter what. To always keep a smile for the cameras or he’d suffer the consequences. That he had to ensure the world never saw him bleed.

            Adrien shut his eyes. Tears fell from his eyes. He was failing. He had tried for so long to keep the people safe. He worked endlessly to keep them happy while hunting Papillon. For two years, he’s done nothing but fail. He couldn’t stop Papillon. He couldn’t save everyone. The people were tired of him and cried for a real savior, for the Ladybug. Now, she’s active. The Ladybug will grace the city and prove herself far more capable than him. Once she did, what use was there for him?

            Adrien gritted his teeth. Gabriel’s words were drowned out by the people. He covered his ears as he heard everything under the sun. Mangy beast, charlatan, alley cat, sex symbol, destroyer, weapon of mass destruction, and more. The insults and cries of them filled his head until they were all he heard.

            “Stop it. Please. I’m doing the best I can. Please. Stop.”

            Through the people, Adrien heard Gabriel’s voice as if he were there.

            “Your ‘best’ isn’t ever good enough. Honestly, you will need to reconsider what your ‘best’ really is before you start your bitch crying.”

            Adrien snarled. He pushed himself up and roared into the darkness. “I’m giving my everything. What more do you want?!”

            Silence. The memories and criticisms faded out. Adrien took deep breaths as he listened to the pounding of his heart. More tears fell from his eyes as he curled back up on the floor.

            Plagg trotted over to Adrien. He weaseled in against Adrien and purred. Adrien cradled him and listened to only the purring. Adrien’s eyes grew heavy as he was lulled to sleep.

[egg-emperor]

Right on! I honestly do not understand why people say things like "We gotta humanize eggy by making him less evil" . Eggy is already a very human character. Selfishness and greed have been human traits ever since caveman Grog bashed his neighbour Tharg's head in with a rock and stole his wife, meat and fur.

Eggy is a great example of what happens when a human just lets their selfishness, greed and ego run wild.

Exactly, being evil is very human. The dark parts of humanity and the human mind has always fascinated me both in real life and fiction, morbid curiosity and my passion for writing characters believing in and doing things that I never would, and the challenge that comes with seeing from different perspectives that improves my skills as a writer, are all things I hold dear. It has inspired years of learning, analysis, creativity, and writing for me.

I don't want to pretend we live in a world where everyone is secretly good. There is abhorrent evil in this world and it can and should be fictionalized just as much as the good that equally exists. I also don't want to pretend that the human mind's, beliefs, feelings, and desires are always pure and well intentioned deep down in every person. The mind can be a dark place in many ways too. My mind is and I don't want to hide that in shame.

Just because my mind is one way doesn't mean my actions reflect it, just like how some people's actions won't reflect their mind either. That's also interesting to me to explore through learning about it and fictionalizing it. I like to see what dark minds like mine can create too and it's just as valuable. I wish people like us weren't shamed and told that we can't create and share our passion and our work just because it doesn't have conventional goodness.

There are many inherent human traits and feelings people in fandom (or holier than thou people in general) like to pretend don't exist, like they're above it and say it shouldn't be explored in fiction. But they're in denial that they're things we can all feel. Goodness, love, kindness, anger, envy, confidence, desire, self love, empathy, etc, exists in humans but so does evil, hatred, cruelty, anger, malice, jealousy, arrogance, greed, selfishness, apathy, etc.

Love can become dark and selfish or be replaced by hate. Kindness can be replaced with cruelty. Anger can become malice. Envy can become jealousy, confidence can become arrogance, desire can become greed, self love can become egotism, multiple of these things and more can have selfishness in them too. We're all capable of feeling these things even if we don't, and they can't seem to accept that and deny it, especially regarding characters.

It's common for people to deny these things are human, it's why they say those who do horrible evil are "inhuman/monsters/animalistic/etc". They don't want to believe and accept that they're human like us. That we could be like them. Humans can be vile and wretched and deeply evil just like they can be good. You can be one or the other or both. Many times they can overlap but at the same time, I don't agree that nobody can ever be truly fully evil.

You can absolutely still be a truly terrible person if you do "good" things and you can do "bad" things while still being a truly good person. Good intentions can show in bad ways when they become harmful and toxic and bad ones can appear good in manipulation or delusion. Acknowledging THAT is what nuance is, not pretending we're all exactly the same and must all have certain assets apply to us or were incomplete, unrealistic, or boring.

Humans can be so many different things in so many different ways but those can be very good or very evil. It's possible for only the good or bad things to apply, or a mix of both. That's why I like putting characters into good, neutral, and evil. The real world isn't only good and neutral and fiction shouldn't be either. Embracing and exploring the evil too is the true excitement and challenge of writing. You need this skill, that's what it takes to be a good writer.

I like how Eggman reflects the true evil in humanity that very much does exist. It's not unrealistic, it's just his out of this world crazy methods that are. But I wish people didn't forget his evil, anger, malice, cruelty, sadism, rudeness, apathy, ruthlessness, egotism, selfishness, greed, dark desires, destructive tendencies and crimes are all very human. We're all capable of that. We do feel at least some of those because it's so human.

That powerful message has existed in Eggman from the very beginning. He's not representing all humans being bad, but the very real evil and dark part of humanity that exists and shouldn't be denied or sugarcoated. Pretending that what he's doing is actually good/has to have originally good intentions behind it/have him change into a better person to "fix" him or give him nuance, takes away from that message and removes what makes it interesting and clever.

Eggman being evil, egotistical, and egotistical is what leads to his evil acts, cruelty, desire for power and control and the awful things he'll do to get it while enjoying it. That's the causation and we're told over and over by the writers, the bios, the character and stories themselves. They do not imply that it comes from a good place in the games and this isn't bad or unrealistic and certainly not "boring". It's intriguing and has tons of potential.

Humanizing Eggman is acknowledging and accepting that he's all these things while still being human, dehumanizing him is denying he is these things or saying he's inhuman for it. I'm actually humanizing him, those who act like humans must all tick the exact same boxes are dehumanizing him. It should also serve as a reminder that we could all be like him, we're all capable of that darkness and evil if we have the will and decide to act.

And I always enjoy exploring and writing characters who do, especially when seeing how far they can go because it's just fascinating. It's also fun to take on the challenge to write a character with such a different perspective and experiences than my own and it helps improve writing and characterization skills without personal feelings or bias influencing how you write that character and straying away from accuracy. That's very important in good writing.

Eggman has very human traits and feelings, they just exist in very evil ways in him, which is just as realistic and should be represented and explored too. It's also absolutely possible to develop and humanize him even more without going purification/bettering/redemption/downplaying of his actions or putting sympathetic sad reasons or good intentions behind what he does. It can be done without losing what makes him unique and himself.

Sega/Sonic Team/official writers seem to know what they're doing with Eggman in the games even in Frontiers, by him still very much not being a better/less evil person or suddenly morally gray, he's a bad person and even the "good" things are rooted in selfishness and ego. It's just that some don't understand because they think there's only one way to humanize bad guys further and deny they're human in the first place just for being evil at all.

Everything isn't just good and evil but it is still absolutely possible to just be good or evil as much as both or somewhere in between. I don't want to pretend it isn't. The approach they've had to Eggman's further humanization, though he was already very human in the first place, is good because it's more interesting and nuanced than the majority of fandom is making it out to be. I'm looking forward to them making that especially clear in the future.

And I mean in main game stuff specifically, as they've actually already been doing it in all official media since Frontiers in IDW, Murder of Sonic, even Minecraft and it's great. He's still very much evil and not a better person and I'm so happy about that. But I can't wait until it's in a main game again so misconceptions about Eggman's portrayal in Frontiers that go against the writers stated intentions will be cleared up even more blatantly.

And of course as usual I'm also just really excited to see what kind of glorious diabolical evil the handsome devil gets up to next! 🥰💜💘

[eegyo]

I AM LATE TO THE GAME BUT I JUST FINISHED READING MADELINE MILLER’S CIRCE 🥲

I’m definitely feeling all the feelings, as it was a long and dragged out journey (even though I was thoroughly hooked before I read the first words) because of work and yenno - my mental health lol.

It was so so soooooo beautifully written. The imagery and details were literally AMA-ZA-ZING 🤩✨

A physical embodiment of a female experience/journey of womanhood; and how figuring out and finding oneself can feel like an eternity. It also perfectly captured the melancholic, yet beautiful fear and joy that comes with living, and how worth it it is to go through all of it.

Circe is probably the MOST likable character of all time 🥲😭😭❤️❤️🥺

Her bravery in the face of danger

Her curiosity and wonder

Her appreciative spirit for simplicity

Her humility

Her steadfastness and patience

Her playful spirit

Demur yet confident

+ TELEMACHUS is the BIGGEST WALKING GREEN FLAG OUT THERE OMG 💚

So if you are reading this and you haven’t read Circe by Madeline Miller yet, please do yourself a favor and go read it!!!

And if you have read it before — read it again hehehehehehhe

Some of my fave quotes:

“I was too wild to feel shame. It was true. I would not just uproot the world, but tear it, burn it, do any evil I could …”

“But make him shiver…then you will hear from him”

“Whatever you do, I wanted to say, do not be too happy. It will bring down fire on your head. I said nothing, and let her dance.”

“My whole life I had waited for tragedy to find me. I never doubted that it would”

“Despite your wet-mouse weeping, I saw how you would not be ground into the earth.”

. “Timidity creates nothing” — this one definitely struck a nerve lol

“But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.”

“You have been tame your whole life, and now you will be sorry. Yes father, yes father — see what it gets you”

“As it turned out, I did kill pigs that night after all”

“Tear down, I thought. Tear down and build again”

“Death’s Brother is the name poets give to sleep” ****

“He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none”

“I cannot guard against shadows. Give me something to face and fight”

“You do not know what I can do”

“Then child, make another.”

“Such is the folly of humanity. Is it not our human tragedy that some men must be beaten like donkeys before they will see reason?”

“I lifted my hands in blessing and gave my son to the world” — I LEGIT CRIED READING THIS😭😭 made me think of my mom

“It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that me be crushed in a moment’s carelessness. If I had believed it, I no longer did” —WOOHOO GIRL POWER 😈

“‘You are wise,’ he said. ‘If it is so,’ I said, ‘it is only because I have been fool enough for a hundred lifetimes’”

“‘I must tell you, all my past is like today, monsters and horrid no one wants to hear.’ … ‘I want to hear’ he said.” - bitch I SWOONED

“The next sentence should be: let us go together” — :3 I cannot

“ ‘I have not pressed you,’ he said, ‘ and I still will not. I know there are reasons you cannot answer me. But if–’ He stopped. ‘I want you to know, if you go to Egypt, if you go anywhere, I want to go with you.’” - AHHHHHHHHHHHHH WTF 😳🤯😱😶‍🌫️🥵🥴😮‍💨

“He had never met a god who enjoyed their divinity less.”

“‘Then we will go back. We will go back until you are satisfied.’ It was so simple. If you want it, I will do it. If it would make you happy, I will go with you.” —😭😭😭🥰. Crying, screaming, puking

“We would take pleasure in the simple mending of the world”

“This time you are not alone” - I cried ngl

“Circe, he says, it will be alright… He does not mean that it does not hurt. He does not mean that we are frightened. Only that: we are here. This is what it means to swim in the tide, to walk the earth and feel it touch your feet. This is what it means to be alive.” - 😢😭😭😭

“But I see now [gods] are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands”

[beardedmrbean]

Shit got detour, but for gun magic

Now I absolutely 100% understand why Rowling avoided such a idea given it’s was already a bitch to do magical stuff for kids thanks to parent groups AND all the discourse around that time

But if I was to make gun magic, I would say that early development of it did exist in the ancient past like with China. And the European wizard improved it but in the end it was considered a niche as I check wands been in use in the potter since the BC era. So magical guns were a niche in the old world that got heavily developed in the new world for multiple reasons.

🤔

What tribes folklore giants we didn’t wipeout completely in the Wild West we can use? Like here a joke

The native wizard: Pale one, perhaps we can use our magic to create certain guns?

The cowboy wizard: Why?

The giant monster in the distance: GROOOOORA!

Cowboy:…I got a idea

Oh oh oh! UFO sightings in Nevada and areas actually just wizard flying around?

Of course American wizards use wands since they were acknowledged since book 4 and we saw them in fantastic beasts though I heard Ilvermorny kids can’t take their wands homes and have to leave it at school until the age of 17

Oh yeah that totally going to work with a lot of Americans wizards

(They probably have more bootleg magical items than all the prohibiton bootleg liquor and poor black person bootleg dvd collections…not that I may or may not have my own or know a guy)

Also one thing, Rowling (and people who try to copy her) often forget that Harry Potter Wizarding setting worked because she combined and modernize it. And used Britain existing folklore. She also had the Roman republic/empire to fall back to as a the Roman’s established a lot of trades routes in Western Europe thus many wizards from different parts of it could interacted and merge.

Maybe because she is British, Rowling can’t or don’t understand how diverse everything is. Like I can see the magical Congress she made try to keep the American Wizard society in check. But so vast

I mean look at the Midwest, Midwest wizards probably got a lot of good farming magic. But we also probably very innovative

Hmm as a Chicagoan…should I say the Midwestern wizards made a magical Tommy gun? Much pay homage to the infamous Al Capone

Also not to mention the LOCAL native tribes that still exist. I mean western tribes would definitely have their own desert magic vs the forest eastern ones.

Of course she mention the European wizards…but we should also have a huge change when the Chinese and other Asians wizards immigrated to America. Maybe martial art magic is an extra curriculum and such.

Am I making sense, yeah the American wizards guns is funny because we would make some of the most powerful magic bullets that would be consider heresy

But a joke if Voldemort won and attacked America

Voldemort: You disgusted mutts, the blood of the must powerful wizards runs in your veins yet also the blood of steer rats

The current head of the magical Congress(been around since Teddy and look like an America navy officer around that time): Ah voldy mort! Welcome to America!

V: You dare talk to me like a commoner!

American Wizard: I would say you can go to Asia as their Wizard got skin magic that can make you look handsome

V: Enough, my dear eaters would rule this filthy country! You thought it was foolish enough to leave all your items in Massachusetts?!

AW: (Holy shit they took the bait), hmm Mr snake Sidious

V: Who?

AW: Nevermind, but heard about an infamous writer called HP lovecraft?

V: That foolish man? Yes

AW: Well his stories were real since those asses couldn’t shut up around the time and we ask him who was probe by them often to infamous the No-Maj about such creature

V: those stories are true!

AW: Kinda, but check this bowl

Voldemort then saw visions of his death eaters ripping each other faces off, screaming around like mad, and being eaten by horrific monsters

V: W-Why I was never told this?!

AW: Because your a racist inbreed jackaas that could barely tolerate fellow English man much less America

V: I will have my revenge!

AW: Man those southern wizards are good with illusions *snap his fingers*

The room dissolved and Voldemort say they were in a purple cosmos realm. He then heard giant creepy laughing

AW: All your’s Kulu

Voldemort turn around and saw it was the infamous old one Cthulhu. Despite having the master wand and use all three forgivable curses. The old one laugh and grabbed the dark lord

V: NOOOOOO I CAN NOT DIED I CAN NOT-proceed to be eaten

AW: Ugh good, now take you little nap kulu *pic up an old telephone* Yeah operation “help mother Britain” is a go. Well at least he did go to Mexico, those wizards would have gut him harder than a fish

Now I absolutely 100% understand why Rowling avoided such a idea given it’s was already a bitch to do magical stuff for kids thanks to parent groups AND all the discourse around that time

Post on here was just something about a exchange student from America at the battle of Hogwarts pulling out a handgun, I think that was what it was, faster than magic since you don't need to say words and do something with your wand.

I cast glock, pulls out a gun boom dead.

UFO's are golden snitches that made their way too far away from the quidditch pitch.

The current head of the magical Congress(been around since Teddy and look like an America navy officer around that time): Ah voldy mort! Welcome to America!

Admiral of the Navy George Dewy work as a model for you, he was in charge of the fleet in the Spanish American war so perfect for TR.

The conversation there was brilliant BTW, funny stuff.