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lovesick-feelings · 1 year

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UPDATE: This is just a repost for the tags. The original reblog will be kept up! Original AU made by @soleilxe please go check out their blog they are a genius (๑♡ ⌓♡๑)

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I had to get this one out in case the DLC mysteriously dropped out of nowhere! (ʘᗩʘ’)

I absolutely love this AU so much! I am telling you rn that when I first read this I couldn't stop thinking about it and i was so sad that it was never expanded! So I ended up drawing a small comic (this is like my first time doing something like this so sorry if its messy! ) and that was supposed to be it but I ended up writing a short fic as well (⌒_⌒;) Btw this is just my spin on things so sorry if I made any errors!

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"Irreparable," the company claimed. It made no sense to Sun and Moon. From what they know the incident occurred the night an unexpected visitor came by. On the morning management came in, they were met with their main star missing, busted animatronics, and a disheveled mall. To think that the boy they met that fateful night caused all this was… strange, to say the least. At least they were perfectly fine! Yeah, they had a bit of trouble avoiding the flames resulting in slight damage but they were working! With a few repairs and replacements, everything would be right as rain! However, that didn't stop Fazbear Mall from permanently shutting its doors.

Even after conversations they overheard between co-workers, workers leaving as soon as they arrived with salvaged valuables, and the final click of the lock shutting the doors permanently, Sun was in denial.

"They'll come back for us! We'll just have to wait till then!" Although Moon was still troubled by the events that night, he still held onto hope.

"Yes, yes you're right. In the meantime, we should clean up~"

"That's the spirit!" Sun cheered.

The first few months played out like this: waiting and cleaning up whatever they could in anticipation that the company or someone would return. However, those beliefs slowly slipped away with each passing month. Sun tried so hard to keep them distracted from their situation but it’s difficult when you wake up in the same hell every day. Nowadays when he tries to comfort Moon every word comes out unsteady. If only he could make them more believable.

Moon couldn't handle it. It was all his fault. If he'd just fought back none of this would have happened. But how could you fight against something you didn’t know was coming? The night he became corrupted haunted him endlessly. It didn’t help that they also became more beat-up after several failed escapes he made. Though he was grateful for his brother's support, it felt more like lies and empty promises as time passed. Failure after failure, shame, and guilt built up. It was always at his lowest when he felt the same corrupt urges he had that fateful night back.

"SHUT IT! JUST SHUT IT! IT'S THE SAME THING EVERY SINGLE DAY! NO ONE IS COMING FOR US!!"

"...sorry" Sun whimpered.

It was always too late by the time he snapped back to his senses. It was like he was stuck in an endless loop of mistakes. All he could do was apologize and blame himself again.

With no business and no people to tend to days have been spent pacing and cleaning the decrepit daycare. Today was no different. Sun wiped his hands in the desk cabinet causing thick layers of dust to fly in every direction. Every item out of place has already been put back in its original spot long ago. All there was left was the tedious task of wiping away dust.

Moon never understood why he was so keen on getting into the smallest crevices. He couldn’t deny he had his fastidious tendencies but Sun always went above him. He always claimed it was a good way to pass time but Moon knew better. Even with the new body allowing both of them to be present at once Sun still was never the biggest fan of shutting down for long periods. Normally, Moon would push him into resting but Sun seemed to be in a better mood today and he didn't want to disturb him.

The crash of crumbling rubble made them jump from their spot. It was loud enough to hear across the daycare. Their eyes were drawn to the ceiling and they noticed a huge hole. Sun frowned. Was the building finally caving down?

"Must've been a rat"

"whAT?-" Sun choked out.

"What do you mean by a rat? A rat does not cause a hole in the ceiling to collapse!" Moon's only response was a shrug. From where they were it looked like it was around the ball pit area.

"Let’s check it to see-"

"NO"

"WhaT WHy?" Sun’s voice glitched from surprise. He didn’t expect such a sudden response.

"Because it's most likely nothing. The building is just deteriorating again…" He stated plain and simple.

"Well yes but-” Sun paused for a moment, “B-but we may as well check to make sure nothing is wrong!" Moon didn't respond. It’s going to be nothing again and he really wasn’t up for disappointment. Knowing Sun, they were bound to end up there regardless.

"Okay," he grumbled. Moon could feel Sun slightly bounce up. He sighed as they walked around the desk and towards the ball pit. As they continue their journey, Sun can sense Moon slowing down.

"Moon, what's wrong?-"

"Shhh listen" Sun paused. He didn't know what he was trying to listen to but he did so anyway. There was something in the distance. Were those… footsteps? The bots trudged closer to the sound quietly. For the first time in ages, their sensors picked up someone.

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"Dammit..."

This was your fifth time wiping your clothes off debris. You knew buildings like this had weak floors but you didn't expect it to give in that easily! You would say you’ve been through worse but you’ve never been through something like this. You’re honestly not sure if watching Youtube videos of failed urban exploring counts as an experience.

This was supposed to be your biggest project yet. Entering the abandoned Pizzaplex had been done before but nobody had ever explored past the ground floor. You had one goal: Record as much exploration as your camera storage will allow, upload all footage to your channel, and satisfy the hungry viewers with the possibility of getting that sweet YouTube money. What you hadn’t anticipated was falling through the floor and being trapped in one of the areas 30 minutes into your exploration. Now you have to find a way out.

You looked back at the ball pit and shuddered, thinking of what might have happened if it hadn't stopped your fall. Walking over the chipped rainbow bridge you pulled out your flashlight and observed what was in front of you. You had to admit the place didn’t age as badly as you thought! It has its flaws from the fire but you were surprised by how much stuff still survived.

The bright cheery colors that once painted this daycare have dulled to darker hues. Somehow the kid's chairs were neatly pushed into the tables and toy barrels were still stacked on top of each other. You looked over the massive play structure. They were still standing strong and tall beside some large dark spots in some areas which you assumed was also caused by the fire. A few of the giant mascot cutouts were hanging on the sides while others that had fallen were carefully propped up against the walls. When you shined your light on one of the aisles, the light didn't reach much distance.

"Geez this place is huge..."

You took a few steps before hearing a scuffle. For a second, you assumed it was some small animal. At least that's what you hoped it was. You were about to turn back when you heard it again. You whipped your flashlight in the sound’s direction.

"Hello!?" You kinda cringed at how hoarse your voice came out. You darted your flashlight for a bit until you caught it. You froze. How long was it standing there? You pointed your light at the animatronic.

Even from a distance, you could tell how huge the animatronic were. A split separated the two sides, which gave the appearance of two heads. Among them, one half had dark yellow skin and a crown that resembled rays from the sun, while the other half had darker blue skin with a nightcap resembling a moon. Each had two pairs of arms. Their clothes or at least what remained of them were tattered. Parts of their endoskeleton are exposed most noticeably on their face. Their glowing eyes pierced your soul. What felt like hours of silence were finally broken when their soft chuckles turned into hysterical laughter.

"NEW FRIEND!!"

"NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!" You bolted in the opposite direction of the playground. As you ran you tried dodging as much debris as you could without falling over. As you approached the wall you could see large wooden doors. That's the exit! You weren't able to slow down your speed in time causing you to slam your arm against the door. Thanks to your adrenaline pumping you couldn't feel a thing. You tried pulling open the door only to hear clicking noises. IT’S FUCKING LOCKED!!!

“New friend!”

“New friend~”

“New friend!”

Their calls were growing closer.

You looked around until you crawled into one of the kiddie slides. You climbed your way up, lying flat on your stomach. You were pretty high up. There was no way they could see you as long as you didn't lean against the bars. The metal grating grows louder as the robot approaches where you once stood.

"N-new friend please cOME BaCK!!" He wailed in distress like a mother trying to find her lost infant.

“Shhh you’re going to scare them~” You gritted your teeth. Yeah, like they hadn’t scared you to death already. Unlike the other voice, this one was hushed and calm. As if it was a situation he knew all too well. The other voice gasped and quietly apologized.

"Where are you, new friend?~" There was intense silence. They let out what sounded like a disgruntled sigh before the scraping faded away. Once you were sure they were gone you took a breath of relief. You didn't realize you were holding your breath the whole time. Your heartbeat was so loud you were afraid they would hear it. 'What even was that…?' You tried to recollect your thoughts. Everything happened so fast that you couldn't comprehend what was happening. When you tried thinking back about what happened all your mind could replay was the moment you stared into their ghostly irises.

'Okay, that's enough…’ You sat up. Another deep breath calmed your heart. There has to be another way out of here. You peer through the cage. From your vantage point, you couldn’t get much. There were only two things you could see from where you were: the front desk and the children's pit in front of it. You had to get a better view but how? You sure as hell wasn’t about to sneak down again. You looked towards the bridge connecting the two playgrounds. Despite its aging, it still looked sturdy enough to cross. Maybe this was your chance? You didn’t want to risk getting caught but you also didn’t want to die either. Well, there's only one way to find out…

A small knock made you recoil back. You turned your head to the slide you came from. No. There’s no way they could get in here. With how big and clunky the animatronic look, they’d probably fall apart the moment you hit them.

Upon getting up, you were met with jelly legs. You're gonna have to crawl this one out. You navigated carefully through the colorful maze. The number of dead ends you ran into got ridiculous. Sometimes you felt like you were crawling in circles until you finally found it. You silently cheered for yourself. The bridge was only a turn away!

Something wrapped around your ankle before you took another step. Your head spins to see several pairs of hands gripping your ankle. You couldn't scream before those hands brutally dragged your body down the slide. The suddenness of it all caused your head to bang against a turn. You hit the floor with a loud thud holding your head. All you could do was lay limp on the foam flooring. What even happened? You could feel your head throbbing from the pain. A giant shadow loomed over your figure. Rough, metal arms wrap themselves around you in a cold embrace.

“Found you, friend, ~” The two laughed together making a strange combination of a cackle and a giggle. You wish you could fight back but you feel so nauseous and weak. All you could do was stand there awkwardly as you got crushed. Dread overwhelms your body.

“We were so worried about you, friend! You shouldn’t run away like that! I-I mean what if you got lost or h-URT!?” Their grasp on you was tightened as he spoke. The voice coming from what you assumed was the sun’s side made you tense up. His voice made your ears start ringing. Was he always this panicky?

“Now, now there’s no need for that anymore.” His hand cupped your cheek tilting it so you could face them.

“It won’t happen again~” The drop in his voice made it sound like a death threat.

“Besides-" He resumed back to himself.

"Think of all the fun we'll have together~!” Sun’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, you’re right! We have so many activities we could do now that we’re together!” They easily pull you up and swing your body around.

“We’ll have soooooo much fun~!” Moon chuckled

“We could play charades!”

“And tell stories~!”

“Oh oh, we could finger paint too! I haven’t done that in so long!!” The two exchanged enthusiastic opinions about everything they planned.

You honestly felt like you would puke. It was too loud. Your head was throbbed and your whole body was aching. Everything felt so overwhelming. You didn’t care about exploring anymore, you just wanted to go back to the comfort of your home. You tried holding back the tears brimming in your eyes. The robots tensed when they heard soft hiccups. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Your body was lowered, bringing you closer together. Moon’s eyes widened while Sun’s eyelids drooped when they realized you were crying.

“Friend, what's wrong?” Your cry turned into a full-blown sob. Sun and Moon quickly sat down. Laying you on their lap, they gently rocked you back and forth with their arms propping you up. Your sobbing could be heard throughout the whole daycare all the while Sun and Moon tried calming you down. They rubbed circles around your back whispering reassurances.

“It’s alright~”

“You’re safe now!”

“There’s no need to cry~” Their hands whipped your tears away. Your body becomes less tense.

“Did we do this?” You opened your eyes realizing they were looking at your head. Their concern was evident. You flinched when their fingers grazed the area you hit.

“Oh sorry! I-I-I didn't meAn tO do THat! WE-”

“Sun.” Moon interrupted

“We can fix this. As long as we follow instructed procedures they will be fine~”

“Oh right right! Sorry about that, friend” You could feel their fingers tenderly stroking your hair. They cradled your body while whispering soothing words.

You could’ve easily pushed them away and made a run for them, but you didn’t have the motivation to do so. You were beyond tired to fight back. It was getting harder to hold up heavy eyelids and the animatronic also seemed to realize this.

“Shhh rest~ You will feel better after a good sleep~” You had to admit their voice was comforting. This couldn’t be so bad right? They seemed nice enough. So it was okay to shut your eyes for a bit. You lifted your eyes one more time to see theirs. If only you were more awake you would’ve caught their lovesickness plastered on their faces gazing at you. Maybe then you’d realized sooner the situation you were now trapped in. You felt two soft taps on your forehead, mocking a kiss before slipping into darkness.

“Goodnight, Starlight~”

“Goodnight, Sunshine!”

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writtenbyjeanofarc · 8 months

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LONG-TERM EFFECTS OF SUFFERING

Blade X Reader | 1.8k

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: gothic lit, dark fantasy, eventual smut.

𝖈𝖜: none, as of the moment.

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘:

“When will death come for me? My patience is wearing thin.”

A skilled swordsman, hunter, and consumer of blood, Blade’s name is feared with a body count of over fifty thousand deceased hunters in the battlefield. From hundreds of enemies, he stood amongst other Stellaron Hunters for his ability to ingest blood and guts of mere mortals, something not expected of his kind. Kafka knows this, in fact all his fellow hunters and swordsmen have long figured out his insatiable hunger for the weak and frail.

But in spite of his endless meals since he found the world, he has embarked on a personal quest. That is, to find the perfect mate worth consuming (and perhaps, killing) for the sake of lifting the curse that brought about his immortality.

Blade never played soft with his intentions, and he never portrayed himself as a sweet man with whom he went in for the kill. He was never gentle, not even in his pursuit of the little old you—a fragile princess protected by the security of your father’s kingdom.

You were but a princess confined to four walls for you held on a special ability which was able to slowly kill whoever got ahold of you. After accidentally poisoning your soon-to-be husband in a wedding, your father decided to lock you far away in his other castle, doomed to never experience the beauty of marriage or intimate affairs.

Blade craved death far more than you needed air to breathe, and upon Kafka’s discovery of your existence, she alerts him of a potential cure to his immortality—your soul.

The man himself keeps this in mind, and will stop at nothing but to hunt you down, granting he draws his final breath after one night with you.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊:

Just a heads up, because I have yet to admit this, but I don’t, and actually never played Honkai Star Rail. So perhaps you can expect some OOC Blade and canon divergence, though I also did some research. However, seeing this man made me go through some kind of brainrot. It’s official. I have the HOTS FOR THIS MAN. So I cooked up this fic.

Minors and ageless blogs don’t interact. I whipped this up last minute because I have a lot of spare time with my hands.

Not proofread. No beta we die like men!

CHAPTER ONE — CHAPTER TWO.

Chapter One || Haunted By Yours Truly

“Bladie…..ravaging your opponent at this point may seem a little….uncalled for. Perhaps you should take some time off.”

A tall, dark-haired man bent over to take a closer inspection of the body laid before him. Stretching out his arm forward to check on the corpse’s eyes, they turned out to be rolled all the way back, signifying that the body was lifeless indeed. Going by the name Blade, he looked up at his fellow Stellaron Hunter Kafka with those ferocious, feisty eyes of crimson hue.

“And what if I don’t?”

Kafka’s smile dropped, Blade hinting at the slightest sign of annoyance as she kept watch on his every move.

“Bladie….we can’t be stuck around dwelling on what’s already been ruined.” Kafka sighed. “You’re out for the princess, remember?”

“Suit yourself. I have yet another soul to devour, should death approach me upon consuming it. Out of my way.”

Thick air engulfed the dark hallways, Blade and Kafka standing before corpses that laid bare on the floor as a result of their attack on your beloved kingdom. After single-handedly killing almost every guard with their lethal weapons, they ensured no one shall be spared. That is, if it means finding the antidote to lifting Blade’s curse.

He was far too stubborn, just far too stubborn. Blade leaned closer onto the corpse’s neck, locating sensitive areas worth having his teeth to sink in. He searched far and wide for an erogenous zone with minimal difficulty, marking his territory by entering a halt once he found the right spot. His face leaned closer to the corpse’s neck in a rather intimate distance; the heat of his breath felt upon as he opened his mouth wide open.

And in that moment, Blade’s sharp canines sank and buried itself into the thin layer of skin. He bit hard enough in a way that sent piercing, prickling pain to the receiver, granting the corpse was still alive to feel the sensation. The approach was harsh, without falter. His teeth sank under and bit hard enough to draw blood. What wasn’t there, however, is its ability to kill upon consumption.

Blade dipped his tongue onto the wound, savoring the beads of blood that leaked out of the fresh cut. Bleh. The taste was nasty, leaving no room for Blade to keep suckling further. Instantly pulling away, he coughed at the sight of the mess he just caused.

“Too much iron. Not a good sign.” Blade scoffed. “Not the best way to bring about the limits of the flesh.”

“Bladie, we don’t wanna waste time. If all you’re searching for is the cure for your condition, I believe it is best if we start looking elsewhere for the princess.” Kafka announced.

“Tch. Fine. But convince me the search will be worth it.”

Kafka and Blade left the blood-stained halls as they embarked on a mission to find remnants of your presence. It was quite a long and tedious journey, traveling across different regions for the sake of finding a worthy cause for Blade’s incoming death.

It was but a miracle that Kafka has established some connections with the divine and spiritual—she recently made friends with a wandering witch amongst the people who told her of a possible cure to immortality. Upon remembering her comrade, she made it an essential task to tell Blade of the good news. Not even the members of the Astral Express knows about this plane of existence, but since Kafka believed helping Blade gave her a sense of fulfillment, she made it a goal to seek an antidote if it meant risking certain abilities. Thankfully, there was not much required of her upon meeting and consulting the witch for help.

“No one here,” Blade observes. “It seems as if this place is abandoned. Not even the Aeons know what happened in these ruins.”

“Let’s just keep searching, alright, Bladie?” Kafka winked.

“Halt!” yelled a guard who stormed out of nowhere.

Blade drew his sword, ready to charge his blade towards the guard only to suddenly stop upon an interjection.

“Wait, please!” the guard retorted. “I can explain!”

“Oh?” Kafka crossed her arms, smiling. “Very well, Bladie, let’s hear this man out, shall we?”

“If…..if you’re looking for the king and his daughter, they’ve moved to another castle!”

“Pfffft. Is that so?” Blade sneered. “Well then, show me the ropes. Where can I find this kingdom?”

“I-It’s….it’s located on the far north within the Xianzhou Loufu, I-I promise it’s not too far away! I’ve pers-“

“Enough talk. Let’s go, Kafka.”

“Wait, about the princess!” the guard exclaimed. “The princess is currently on lockdown, so it’ll be forbidden to visit her chamber, just a heads up!”

“Whatever. We’ll make sure to have a word with her.” Blade replied.

“But you don’t understand! If you try courting the princess, the king will kill you! I could go on about how the princess’ father is quite strict! He’ll come after you if you ever tried to harm his daughter!”

“Tch. Whatever. Let’s go.”

The guard’s wails waned as Blade and Kafka left the halls, footsteps echoing amidst the darkness. The sun set hours ago, the castle’s windows lighting up to mark the sight of night engulfing the sky like a wide blanket. Inside the castle were you and your father. You wore a cream-beige gown that faded to white at its base, much to your father’s choice of clothes. It’s not like you had any other choice, your father prohibited you from wearing anything skimpy and revealing, so as to not attract the eyes of unwanted men.

“Daddy, am I going to bed this early? I’m thinking it’s a bit too early.” you asked. “What if I’m not all that sleepy?”

“Your mother said so.” your father, the King of Xianzhou Luofu, replied. “While she’s out of town, you better meet her expectations of getting the most rest, for you shall need that energy when you reign Queen.”

“I’m not that sleepy,” you retorted. “I’m sure she’ll understand that. It’s not like I’ll loiter around the kingdom again.”

“You don’t get it, [Name].” your father frowned, looking at you with a dead serious expression on his face. “After you were scheduled in marriage with the man who has kissed you with his bare lips, his slow, agonizing death was uncalled for. We do not want to risk the lives of other men as well as your womanhood.”

“Is it….is it because of my special ability, dad? Why was I cursed with it anyways? Why am I cursed with poisoning whoever gets a taste of me?”

Your father was bombarded with numerous questions. He didn’t want to spill the secret there and then, but he had to. He bowed his head and started to speak hesitantly as you could only helplessly stare at him with that innocent curiosity.

“Fine, I’ll tell you everything.” your father frantically spoke. “Me and your mother…..were unable to conceive a child. It was obligatory for us to preserve the bloodline, so we had to contact a witch to actually carry out a remedy. She stated that provided we are granted a child, we must face the consequences—it is that you will be cursed with a fatal kiss that can only be healed through the right man’s touch. We were also reminded to never tell anyone of this curse, if we do not want to face bad luck.”

“And it turned out that the man I married during my wedding wasn’t the right one?” you asked.

“I’m afraid so. It is but a rare condition, I can’t imagine having to deal with such a burden. So hear this, you’re better off without anyone as of this moment. We are still on the lookout for offering you the right man to be your husband.” your father replied.

“Are we finished yet, miss [Name]?” a servant appeared from behind.

“Ah! Yes, yes…..!!!!”

“By the way, there’s a gift waiting for you outside the palace, my Lord. I assume it’s one of your favorite drinks.” the servant said, tapping the shoulder of your father. “Blueberry champagne.”

“Ah, hand it over, please. I’ll drink it before bed.” your father requested. “Who might be this guest?”

“I’m afraid there is no label from where the product came from,” the servant replied. “But a commoner called Kafka introduced herself before delivering it to the castle’s main entrance.”

“Very well then, might I invite Kafka to stay here some time. I would like to thank her for knowing my taste in liquor.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

The servant left, leaving you and your father to dine. The conversation was pretty much nothing out of the ordinary—it was just another day of being showered with wealth and splendor exclusively celebrated by the royal families. You immediately got up from the dining area after a heartfelt interaction with your father, rushing to your room and changing into sleepwear. Your father always liked buying you dainty chemises, for he believed they suited your doll-like figure best.

Sounds of plates and glasses were being arranged along with other miscellany as the clock struck ten o’ clock. A princess like you was recommended at least ten hours of sleep, as to get rid of your dark circles and to prep you up for your everyday, luxurious skincare routine. It was only a week after you and your father moved castles. He spent all his wealth trying to cast you away from unwanted men peeking at you, let alone court you. Your father was surely an overprotective man who didn’t want his daughter engaging in unlawful acts, provided every man you hooked up with ended up poisoned.

The servants have already rushed to their rooms after a long day of tending to the dishes. You didn’t wait until midnight to drift off to sleep, it was only ten thirty when your eyes sealed shut without a care in the world. Your father was the one that stayed up, his sleeping schedule remaining inconsistent. But it wasn’t as if it mattered. After all, he makes the rules of his own castle.

A man of muscular, yet lanky frame took notice of your father still at the dining table from the windows. This man was revealed to be the one who has purchased a bottle of your father’s favorite champagne, your father not knowing it was drugged with a powerful sleeping pill.

“Ah, more glasses of champagne, please.” your father requested.

“As you wish, my Lord.” complied another servant.

Fizzy bubbles of champagne filled the glass, offered to the King like the drunkard he was becoming. The servants didn’t care much, some of them chuckling at the King’s gullibility. The lights at the dining table were dimly lit, and it wasn’t long before the King fell asleep, drugged at the dining table.

#hsr blade #hsr x reader #blade x reader #blade x female reader #x reader #blade x you #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

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metal-and-machetes · 10 months

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Pretty Hate Machine

The Sequel to ‘The Downward Spiral’

If you dangle meat in front of a predator long enough, the frenzy that follows will be violent and messy.

This is a dark Ghostface fanfiction. Content Warning:

Fuck or Die

Violent sex

Blood play

Torture porn

Stabbing

Dubcon/noncon

Sexual violence

Humiliation

Degradation

Graphic descriptions of violence

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. If the above are triggers for you, do not proceed. DBD lore does not suggest Danny is fun or nice, I wrote him as such.

“I’ll see you real soon, sweetheart.”

The words echoed in your head as you sat on a fallen tree trunk, leg bouncing as you stared out into the forest and waited. You’d been doing a lot of that lately… waiting. Waiting for the next trial. Waiting for the next killer. Waiting to be hunted down and slaughtered. Waiting to be a sacrifice to the Eldritch horror of an entity that controlled this place.

Waiting for him. You’d been waiting for what feels like forever for him. You lost track of how long you’d been here, it could’ve been months, years, mere days, you didn’t know. The others, they called in The Fog. They called themselves Survivors, they all got here in some mysterious way (though none of them had been brutally murdered after they were fucked by their coworker).

Sometimes you wondered if people were looking for you, if people were looking for Danny, Jed, Ghostface, whoever he was to people. You landed on the guess that they were looking for your body, and as far as Ghostface, you’re positive they assumed he skipped town after likely slaughtering you.

You’d been looking for him too. Rather, you’d been looking out for him. It was apparent what would happen when you finally encountered him. He’d hunt you like the rest of the monsters that lurked here, you and three others that were dropped into these… trials. Four against one, at a staggering disadvantage, since that one was a killer with a horrible weapon and you got a shard of glass if you were lucky.

So far, you faced The Shape, one of the survivors called him Michael. She came from the same place he did, Haddonfield, Illinois, her name was Laurie. Forever pissed that she was stuck in an endless cat and mouse game with the man who killed her friends. At least one of them could understand your position. The Trapper was another one that you encountered a lot, a burley man who set rusty bear traps in places you always seemed to be. There were more. The Huntress, The Wraith, The Nurse, The Doctor. Those are just the ones that stuck out to you. The ones you saw most often.

But where was he? Why didn’t you see him? Why were you actively looking for the one everyone called The Ghost? Why did you care? What the fuck was wrong with you? You hated the feeling you got when the others talked about trials with him, how you began to get jealous. Why couldn’t you see him? It was almost not fair. You should be grateful you’re not being hunted by the narcissistic, knife wielding maniac, but you miss him. Why was this entity separating you from him on purpose? Surely it’s not out of mercy.

It freaked you out how obsessive you were about him. Danny consumed your every thought at the fire. The others asked you about him once he began showing up in their trials. Theirs. Not yours. They asked why he chose you (you didn’t know). They asked if he carved the word ��MINE’ into your arm (you lied, it was your ex, they believed you). They remarked that you must be so happy you haven’t had to face him (you weren’t).

And fuck you for that.

You hated, loathed the idea that maybe you missed Jed. And then you’d remember that Jed doesn’t exist. Jed is a lie. Jed is Danny. Danny was behind murders states away from Roseville. Danny is Ghostface. Danny is unhinged. Danny is a good fuck. And fuck you for wanting him to fuck you again.

The man in the glasses and the tie, Dwight, sat next to you.

“What does he do in those trials?” you asked, staring into the flames.

Dwight swallowed. “He’s brutal. He hides around corners and in windows and watches us.” Gross. He’s such a fucking pervert. “I think he looks for you.”

That got your attention. “What?”

“I’ve noticed he gets worse when he figures out you’re not there. It’s like all of a sudden this rush of anger goes through him and he’s tunneling survivors, he’s brutally playing around, he’s watching us suffer on the hooks, he’s collapsing the end game. It’s terrifying.”

You scoff and then let out a laugh, which earns you a few looks from other survivors. “So he throws a fucking temper tantrum.”

“Temper tantrum?” The girl in the beanie, Nea, sneered. “Is that what you call it when the rest of us are being brutalized because you’re getting spared?”

“Nea…” Dwight warned.

“Spared?” You laugh again. “Spared? Did you forget what got me here? That asshole stalked me. He broke into my home. He bludgeoned me, then he tied me down, then he tortured me,” you conveniently leave out the part where he fucked you with your blood as his lube, “and then he cut my throat open. And now I’m here. So, yes, it is a temper tantrum.”

She started swearing at you, but it was drowned out by the loud hum that overtook your mind, you knew that tug. The Entity wanted to be entertained. That’s all these trials were for it. Entertainment. You grunted and closed your eyes, and when they reopened, you were staring down the streets of Haddonfield. Shit. Another trial with The Shape, at least, that’s who was normally here, or the Legion, creepy bastards.

These trials were simple enough. You and three other survivors were to fix enough generators to power on the gates that led to an exit. You just had to deal with a murderous nutcase of the Entity’s choosing chasing you down in order to shove you onto a sacrifice hook, or to murder you themselves with something the others referred to as a mori.

You got right to work on a generator, moving hastily as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. You’d gotten good at this game, you escaped a lot of the time, generators were tricky, but you were fast.

A scream ripped across the street, freezing you in your tracks before a bell rolled and signaled the death of one of your fellow survivors. That was fast… almost too fast. Was it The Hillbilly? No, you didn’t hear the chainsaw. The Hag? Maybe Michael really was the killer this time. You abandoned the generator and ran towards the scream, then you stopped.

‘Idiot! This is exactly how people die in horror movies!’ you scolded yourself. Not only that, if the killer had been blessed with the ability to use their mori, you’d be even stupider to investigate. You’d be a brainless moron. The kind of brainless moron that you used to point and laugh at in those stupid 80s slasher movies.

Then you felt a new sensation. Like someone was watching you. The hair on your arms rose, you were oddly aware of your pupils dilating and your forehead breaking out in a sweat. It kept you frozen where you were. This was different from when Michael was the killer, you never got the feeling of a dry throat or like you were hyper aware of your surroundings.

The others have talked about this feeling. Obsession.

Fucking fuck, you were the killer’s obsession.

Without a thought, your legs sprang into motion, you sprinted from between the houses you had stopped at. You had to get away from the area. Go! Run! Hide! You became less human and more animal as you banked around a corner and dove into in a locker, hand clamped over your mouth and nose, trying to will your heart to slow, fearing that it would be heard. Footsteps approached from the side, pausing in front of the doors. The shadow casted through the vents wasn’t anything overly huge, but it vanished before you could pick it apart. At least you knew this was a stealth killer, not one of those hulking brutes like The Trapper or The Executioner.

You didn’t dare move until the feeling of being an animal hunted left. When it felt safer, you carefully exited the locker and ran the opposite direction to continue on your generator. As soon as it popped, you bolted, still unable to shake that lingering feeling of being watched.

Not moments later, the explosion of a mis-crossed wire on a generator was heard, followed by a scream piercing through the air and then a bell tolling.

What the fuck…” you murmured. This only confirmed that it had to be a stealth killer. Which only left you with a few options. The Wraith, the Pig, Michael… or him. You heart pounded a little harder. There was a 25% chance you were in a trial with Danny. One where you were the obsession. One where he could slaughter exactly as he pleased. One where you were now down two teammates.

You were completely and utterly fucked.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you let out a scream before another hand slapped over your mouth and a bloody Ace shushed you. “Shh! Sh! I’m sorry, listen- fuck- I need you to help me out!”

The gambling man was stabbed blood pouring from between his fingers. You nodded as he crouched down and you quickly started packing the wound. “Wh-who is it?” Your voice wavered, terrified of the answer you already knew.

“It’s The Ghost.” Ace grunted as you faltered a bit. “Ah! He- he knows you’re here, kid…”

Before you could form a coherent thought, a shadowy blur launched from the shadows and tackled Ace from you, knocking you flat on your ass. Ace rolled onto his stomach, I’m the process of yelling for you to run, but the knife was already in his back, puncturing his lungs before he brutally stabbed through his sides, head ripped up and the flash of a camera capturing a fresh kill. You stared up from your ass in pure horror as Danny examined his photograph and slowly raised those black, soulless pits of the mask to meet your terrified eyes.

“Fucking finally.” His voice was distorted by that fucking modulator, nice to know he didn’t drop the act here. He tore the knife from Ace’s back, standing. You scrambled back as his boots crunched on the gravel. “You’re all mine, bitch!” You screamed as he wiped the blood from his knife, turning and stumbling as you got up and ran, hearing the most unhinged cackle fall from the throat of the killer. Your killer. You vaulted over windows, threw down pallets, you tried to get away, but there was no escape, it was a fact you were so devastatingly aware of. You finished one generator, all three of your teammates were dead before you could even process you were alone.

Worst of all, he was pissed. You came to realize that night before you came here that Danny had some serious anger issues. He had an incredibly short fuse. Even answering his questions slower than he wanted pissed him off. And now, after probably having to watch you for however long you were here, not being able to have you? He must be irate. Evident by the fact he just brutally murderer Ace in front of you.

You turned into a house, rocketing up a flight of stairs and wedging yourself under a bed, hands clasped over your mouth to quiet your breathing. You heard the pallet you had thrown down across the door shatter under the force of Danny’s boot. “You can’t hide here, sweetheart!” he snarled from downstairs. You hear doors open and get slammed shut, pans clattered to the floor as he stalked through the house. “It’s just you and me now! No more hiding, no more watching, no more fucking games, you’re finally goddamn mine!” Floorboards creaked as he ascended the stairs and tears rolled down your cheeks until it went quiet. Damn him. Damn you for getting wet over this. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Found you.” A hand wrapped a crushing grip around your ankle and dragged you out from under the bed, kicking and screaming as he shoved you against the wall by your throat. The soulless black abyss of the mask’s eyes bore into you with more emotion than you think any person could ever have. Because Danny was beyond pissed.

‘Shit. Shit, shit, shit!’ You kicked your legs and caught him in the stomach, falling out of his grasp and attempting to make a run for the door, only for your ankle to be caught again and you to land on the dirty hardwood face first, nose crunching and bleeding at the impact. Danny dragged you back to him and wrestled you into his arms, falling back as you knocked your head back to collide with his. You weren’t going to go down like last time, you were going to fight, you were going to make it as hard as you could for him. Maybe he’d get so angry that he’d just kill you instead of what you knew he was going to do.

He suddenly threw you to the ground like you weighed nothing before standing and kicking you in the gut. You wheezed, has he always been this strong? No… no way he had been. “Hey, doll? Did you miss me?” He growled, grabbing your hair and wrenching you up.

“Fuck you!”

“I see you haven’t lost that fuckin’ fight.” he growled. It wasn’t playful, it wasn’t giddy. It was said with downright terrifying annoyance as he hauled you to your feet and slammed your face against the wall, cheeks crushed to it, your back to his body, blood pouring from your broken nose. “She hasn’t broken you quite yet.”

“Go to hell, Danny!”

He pushed you harder into the wall, the splintering wood cutting into your cheek. “Choose your next words real fucking careful, sweetheart. I’m already having a bad fuckin’ day and I will gladly take it out on you. And I’ll make it really fuckin’ slow and painful… just for you.” You whimper, ultimately going lax under his fingers and taking a deep breath. This is what you wanted, right? To see him? Feel him? Touch him? This was what you asked for when you brooded over the fire and laid awake being jealous of your fellow survivors and angry that he may have their pictures too. “That’s it. That’s it, doll.”

You winced as he pressed against you, heavy breath muffled by the mask, erection pressed against your ass. You were not going to make it easy for him. “I heard you threw some temper tantrums when I didn’t show up in the trials.”

He slammed your head against the wall again and your vision blurred. “The more attitude you have, the worse this is going to be for you. I’m not above gouging out new holes to fuck instead of your pussy.”

Your eyes watered as you whimpered. Then tears started spilling from your eyes. You heard plastic hit the ground as Danny ripped it off his face. He trailed the tip of his knife down your cheek as he pressed his forehead against your temple, his hair damp with sweat. “Listen, and listen closely.” he growled into your ear. “You’re going to cooperate. I have waited since I got to here to have my way with you again. I even cut a deal with the Entity.”

“Wh-what kind of deal?”

He let out a soft breath of a laugh before grinding his hips against your ass and let out a soft groan. “We show her how far I can push you, I get access to you outside the trials. It’s a win-win.”

“Sounds more like a win for only you.” you muttered. The knife bit into your cheek, and to your utter humiliation, you whined. He shifted your position and held you to the wall by your throat. The eyeblack was still there like you remember, but he didn’t have your blood splattered on him. Danny smiled as he observed the shine of the knife.

You swallowed as he gave you that stupid smirk before he licked the blood from your cheek then leaned down and kissed you, the knife disappearing back into its sheath. You let out a muffled yelp, trying to find a way from between him and the wall. His hands ran up your arms, one descending down your spine while the other firmly cupped the back of your neck to keep you close, effectively cutting off any and all escape routes.

You shoved him back but he just locked his fist into the hair at the base of your neck and yanked your head up towards the ceiling as hard as he could. “It’s pathetic how you think struggling will get you anywhere, doll.” He made his point by stabbing your leg and dragging the knife upward, shuddering as you let out a high pitched scream. “Fuck, I love when you scream for me.”

“I hate you.” You growled, tears freely flowing now as the knife ripped from your leg and was lodged into the wall.

“Is that why you sit at that fire and stare out into the forest? Because you hate me?” Danny scoffed, roughly shoving his hand into your shorts and gliding his ring and middle fingers through the wet folds of your pussy, pulling a whimper from you. “Look at that, still a filthy slut for pain? Do you soak your panties for all the killers when the chase you down, or am I special?”

You glared at him as you tried to control your breathing and hold back your whimpers. He pressed his forehead against yours and focused his fingertips on your clit, slow circles stimulating you further, causing your eyes to drift close and your mouth to drop open.

“She kept you from me. She made me wait and watch. She tortured me by dangling you in front of me like I was a starving dog salivating after a slab of fucking meat.” He yanked you off the wall, taking the knife with him in the process, and pushed you back on the bed, straddling you, your blood soaking the fabric of his pants. “I have so many pictures of you. I’ve made a pretty collage of you.”

His eyes were crazed, he looked like a junkie that finally found his fix. He practically devoured you again, teeth clacking against yours as the knife tore through your top and shorts, nicking your skin, bright red blood blooming from the cuts. He was careless, you were probably in more danger now than you ever were the night he brought you here. But oh god, did it feel good when the worn leather of his gloves caressed your tits and pinched your hard nipples.

‘Fuck it.’ You reached down and cupped his pants, whimpered when he immediately started grinding his hard cock into your palm. He grinned against your mouth and broke away from you, pressing his knife against your throat.

“You try to run and I’ll pin you to the wall by your throat and fuck you that way.” When you nodded, he stood up walking backwards until he collapsed back in the chair, legs open wide. “Now, I didn’t get my cock sucked last time. Crawl to me, take it out, and show me what a good little doll you are.”

You winced as you moved your leg, yelping as you crawled, the muscle of your thigh torn by his brutality. You dragged yourself into a kneeling position and started undoing the belt, sliding it off and working the button open and dragging down the zipper. You hated yourself as you pulled out his cock, mouth watering. You didn’t get a good look at it before, but the stretch you felt made sense. And of course the asshole had a pretty cock. Fuck him. And fuck yourself for liking it. The other survivors, they fucked each other, you however couldn’t stop thinking of the fuckhead in front of you.

“Hurry up, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man.” he growled.

“I’m well aware.” That comment earned you a blade in the shoulder, bone crunching, and you screaming. Danny seized your hair and shoved your mouth onto his cock, slamming into the back of your throat and causing a wretch to interrupt the muffled cries of agony.

“You’re real fuckin’ brave, you little brat. You love running your fuckin’ mouth so much, but we can find a better use for it.” You wretch again as he thrusted, forcing you to drool down his shaft before he pulled you off so air. “Get to work. Now.” It was so embarrassing how easily you bent to his will. The nail was in the coffin from day one.

He didn’t need to guide you anymore. Message received. So you immediately began stroking his shaft and licking at the bead of precum on his tip. How long had he been watching you in the trial? How many pictures of you did he take? How often did he masturbate to you? How many hours had he spent wanting you from the shadows just outside of your survivor camp?

You opened your mouth and gave the head of his cock a quick, sharp suck, causing Danny to moan and throw his head back. “C’mon, baby.” He seized your hair and forced you to look up at him and his camera, clicking away. “Put on a good show for me.”

He tasted like you imagined. Earthy, but with a hint of sweat from the hunt, and he kept himself trimmed neatly. Your mouth watered, hands bracing onto his strong thighs, tears running out of your eyes like the drool running out of your mouth. Oh fuck, he was addicting. Your nails dig into his hips and dragged down, leaving him shuttering and laughing.

“Ah~ f-fuck, sweetheart. You look so good with my cock in your throat.” He forced your head closer, shoving himself further down your throat and your nose against his body, gagging you. His cock twitched in your throat, you braced yourself to take every drop of his cum. “Sick little slut.” Danny’s hand wrapped around your hair, a delicious tug making you moan as he pulled you off his cock and caught his breath. Your spit clung to the tip of good swollen cockhead and connected to your lip as you gasped for air. “As much as I’d love to see you swallow my cum, I’d much rather paint that pussy white.”

He got up and dragged you to the bed, forcing you to stumble and cry out in pain when your leg dragged against the sheets on the bed, staining the dirty floral quilt with blood. More screams and yelps of agony fell out when he pressed your busted nose into the mattress. Danny’s fingers brushed your pussy, growling out a laugh.

“What would your little friends say if they saw you here right now, dripping, even with a broken nose, scared out of your mind? What would they say if they knew I carved out that scar on you?” Just as your mouth opened to snap back, the knife was shoved through your shoulder, point sticking out the other side of your body. “Learn how to shut the fuck up, sweetheart.”

You nodded, finally giving in, finally accepting defeat. God you were pathetic. How embarrassing. Still, he rewarded your response with gloved fingers rubbing your clit the way he knew would get you squirming and moaning. He practically snarled as he pressed his forehead between your shoulder blades, blood from your wound soaking his forehead. “Please, Danny… please I need you…”

“I know you do.” He shoved you back and pushed his pants lower. “Arch nice and fuckin’ pretty for me.”

You obeyed, whimpering as the knife shifted in your back, well aware of the clicking and the flashes of the camera. So fucking creepy. Danny gripped your ass and spread your cheeks open and gave your pussy a quick, experimental lick before he kneeled behind you. He roughly collected blood from the gushing wound on your leg and spread it onto himself, teasing your pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it through your soaking wet folds, swirling it over your clit as you whimpered. More clicks. More flashes. God the disgusting gallery he must have of you.

“Please, just fuck me alre-“ you screamed out when he slammed his whole cock into your hole, grunting at the way you squeezed him hard. “Jesus Christ, Danny!”

“Ah fuck me. Finally… god fucking dammit finally!” He smoothed his hands over your back and sides, letting out a loud moan as he watched you take him, letting him thrust at a leisurely pace. Danny didn’t do gentle of course, he seized your hair and ripped your body up and against his chest, knife at your throat as he started pounding. You gasped and moaned, throat bobbing as you struggled to swallow without getting cut by his knife. “You’re so pretty when you’re being fuckin’ good for me.” He dropped the knife and fell forward, still thrusting, but now cheek to cheek with you as your arch deepened and his chest pressed down into your back.

He fumbled for a moment and regrouped onto your hair as the camera screen was shoved into your face. He forced you to watch as he flipped through photo after photo of you. You at the fire, you talking to the survivors, you sleeping. Occasionally pictures of your dead teammates showed up, until the trial now was apparent. It was only you.

You fixing the generator. You stopping in the alley. You running down the street, your terrified eyes as you realized who it was, you sucking his cock. Your pussy with his cock balls deep inside, blood smeared everywhere.

“You’re- mmh fuck!- You’re fucking crazy!”

Danny whimpered in your ear as you clenched in a particularly hot way before he bit on your lobe. “And you… fuck, you’re such a slut, ya know that?” he growled. “I just murdered your friends, I’m covered in their blood, and you’re still wet for me. You’re still taking me so good. Dirty little whore.”

You reached back and ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as you felt yourself clench as Danny‘s breath fanned your neck. You were disgusting. Traitor. Weak. You weren’t any better than him, because if you were, you wouldn’t be fucking him right now. You wouldn’t be enjoying it right now. He moaned again and pulled out, flipping you onto your back and slamming back inside, your breath rushing out of your lungs.

He suddenly tensed and braced himself over you, angling himself even deeper as he moaned and came inside you, thrusting through the waves of pleasure. He started laughing and tapped your cheek with his knife. “Good god, sweetheart look at that… making me cum so quick…” Your breath hitched as he pulled his cock out of you and spread your pussy open, laughing as he watched his cum drip out of your abused whole, mixing with the blood. Danny turned his attention to his branding on your arm, tracing the letters with the tip of the blade. “It’s cute how you lie about this.” There wasn’t an ounce of flirt in his voice as the smile vanished. “How you make them think you aren’t my property.”

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Danny.” you snapped. Before you could blink, the knife was through your hand, your high pitched scream piercing the air. “Asshole!”

“Don’t get smart with me, babe.” He twisted it, bones crunching. “Or I’ll carve a hole in your throat and fuck that next!”

You whimpered as he ripped the knife out of you, blood splattering on the both of you. The carnage was worse this time, you were practically covered and smeared in blood. “Please…”

“Please what? Please kill you? Please fuck you again? Please keep you here until she has enough and takes you away from me again?” He smirked, taking another picture of you. “Be specific.”

You hesitate, then swallow. “Please make me cum… I wanna cum… please, Danny, I’ll be good!”

Danny smiled and ran a hand through his hair, observing his blade before his eyes lit up with an idea. “Stick out your tongue.”

You obeyed, and his fingers started in on your clit. He pressed the knife’s base on you tongue before pressing his own to the other side, fingers now shallowly dipping into your entrance, cum leaking around the tips. Fuck, this was hot, the taste of the blood on the weapon, how the sides of his tongue pressed against yours as he slid the knife down between them, somehow managing to not cut either of you. When it was finally out, his tongue folded over your, blood and spit mixing as he finger fucked you.

Your breathing got heavy, a moan rose in your chest as his thumb played over your clit. You shook and reached up, fingers grasping his shirt as you broke the kiss to pant and whine and whimper. Your eyes shut and your thighs started tensing. Your tongue was coated in you and your teammates’ blood, the wound on your shoulder bled heavily and you’ve lost feeling in the shredded leg that was still spraying blood, your head was fuzzy, you were right there, so close, so-

He tore his fingers away and stabbed you in the stomach instead, right as you came, shock in your eyes as you coughed out more blood. “Fuck you!” He hummed with a smile as he slowly dragged the knife up and up and up, splitting your stomach and exhausting whatever adrenaline you had left to scream.

“A ruined orgasm is still an orgasm, sweetheart.” He smacked your pussy, splashing your cum on your thighs as he twisted and unsheathed the knife from your body. “Come to the edge of your little camp when you get back. Let’s see if this god of ours keeps her promises.”

#horror #ghostface dbd #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #dead by daylight #ghostface #fanfic

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da-mous · 1 year

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My thoughts on Walnuts & Rain

Hello burgers, fries, and everything in between! I didn't think I'd wanna write another Adventure Time post so soon, but I remembered Walnuts & Rain and really wanted to talk about it. Unlike Puhoy, nobody really talks about this one, but it's actually among my favorite episodes believe it or not! Both settings in this one really capture my imagination, and I like how the whole thing feels kind of like a fable. It's full of the kind of potent, unexplained weirdness you get in old fairytales, and I think that's cool!!

So, as a refresher, this episode has Finn & Jake falling down two different holes and ending up in two different situations that explore class disparity and the dangers of getting too comfortable

Finn falls into the Huge Kingdom, which seems to just be this one big room with food lining the walls, where the Huge King forever sits in his throne, constantly fed big food by little food boyz and excitedly anticipating the hourly chiming of his big cuckoo clock in an endless loop

The Huge King of course embodies absolute wealth and fortune. He never has to lift a finger. His servants bring him all the food he'll ever need, and his clock not only provides entertainment, it gives him something to anticipate, like a long cooldown timer in a predatory mobile game

The Huge King seems to idolize the concept of waiting. Almost everything he could want comes to him in time, and he doesn't seem to be aware that this isn't a universal law--it's a product of his privilege. But I did say almost everything...

Next to the Huge King's throne, Finn is put in a second throne half the King's size, but still way too big for Finn. It feels to me like the king had a companion at one point who left, or maybe he never had one, but he's been waiting all this time for one. Either way, when he tries to prevent Finn from leaving with force, it starts to seem clear to me that the Huge King is lonely

In this way I think he's as trapped as Finn is. He isn't fully satisfied here, but how could he ever think about leaving? Here, he's as fed as he'll ever need to be, and the clock provides an endless distraction from what he's missing

This is the lotus flower island trope I talked about in the Puhoy post played straight

Despite the tragedy of his situation, the Huge King is not really a character I want to sympathize with. He may come off like he doesn't understand the ethics of subjugating the food boys to endless labor, but I think on some level he does. His clock, which I imagine he commissioned since it's his size, says "in toil we krimber." People use weird words all the time in Adventure Time, but even Finn doesn't seem to know what "krimber" is. The message feels like deliberate yet meaningless propaganda glorifying labor to the food boyz

Further, the throne next to him is only half the size of his. Even his ideal companion would be beneath him, and I think his attempts to trap his new companion Finn show us why

The situation Jake falls into is in some ways the opposite of Finn's and in some ways the same. Having been knocked out before he fell, Jake wakes up on this platform that this bear dude is living on, parachuting endlessly in the dark pit. The bear dude, 7718, has been stuck down here waiting to reach the bottom so long he's lost track of time and forgotten his given name, but he's been able to survive off of the occasional walnuts and rain that fall into the pit. He passes the time playing Freecell, a spinoff of Solitaire--a much more active hobby than the King's

Despite his absolute poverty, 7 is like the chilliest dude ever. While he convinces Jake not to try to leave, it's only because he thinks Jake would be climbing so long he'd die of starvation. And, even though his gaunt appearance suggests the walnuts aren't even quite enough to sustain him, he doesn't even consider not sharing with Jake

While, like the King, 7 was completely alone until Jake arrived, he seems not to want for anything more than what he has. When Jake suggests they could play some two-player card games, 7 says he forgot games like that even existed, as if he never even imagined he might have a friend down here. The one book he has, "Dividing the Day", seems to me like a book about structuring your day efficiently. Despite all the nothing going on, I get the impression 7 makes the most he can of every day

Interestingly, like the King, 7's food comes to him through no action of his own. It comes only occasionally, is very sparse, and walnuts are pretty tough to crack, but all 7 has to do is wait and crack nuts

7's situation is one anyone would reasonably want to escape, but it seems hopeless to try. There's really nothing he could do besides jumping and hoping to land in water or something... but his needs are almost kindasorta met here, and maybe one day he'll finally reach the bottom, so how could he ever think about trying?

In both wealth and poverty, it can be easy to find a relative peak of comfort and stay there forever, never questioning or challenging the system that keeps you forever unfulfilled. It can be easy to put off worrying about fulfillment at all, trusting that the system around you will bring it to you one day, when in reality, it likely never will. Not without action

The cruel twist is that 7 was never falling. He's inside the exhaust tunnel from the hood of the King's stove, perpetually kept running to prepare the King an endless stream of food, creating a persistent updraft that keeps 7's platform floating in place. Considering that the walnuts seem like not quite enough to sustain him, 7 could have starved in obscurity and poverty, with the change he was waiting for simply never coming

While 7 could truly have done nothing to change his situation, Jake, with his stretchy powers, is technically able, but he believes it would be impossible because he thinks the hole is much deeper than it is

The King could fix everyone's situations, but he's content enough with his own, he doesn't want to let Finn go, and he isn't even aware that his constant stream of food is causing 7 and Jake's situation

Finn, not satisfied trapped in the life of the King, is the only one to persist in his desire to escape the hand he's dealt. He forms a completely off the wall plan that would free only himself by using the resources afforded to him by the Huge Kingdom, but he changes his mind halfway through executing it and instead decides to disrupt the order of things by destroying the King's clock

In destroying the thing that traps the King, Finn inadvertently knocks over a pot whose water puts out the flames on the stove, finally ending the updraft that kept 7's platform in place and freeing him and Jake, despite Finn not even knowing they were there

Finn didn't need a rock solid plan, a thorough understanding of the system, or any idea of what he would do next, in order to change the majority's lives for the better just by disrupting the order set by the ruling class. He avoided the danger of getting too comfortable

Thanks for reading!!

Once again, I have a lot more to say about this one beyond broad, thematic analysis, so I might follow this up with another list of odds, ends, and little things :) I'm super happy people liked my Puhoy post! I'm not the most experienced writer or analyst, but I hope my thoughts come through clearly enough and ring true to people. I think I'll keep writing these every now and then as long as I keep feeling like I have something new to say!

#adventure time #at #adventuretime #finn #jake #walnuts & rain #mouswords

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malewife-overlord · 8 days

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Six Cycles Later -- Part IV Puncture

hi i promised an update soon and here it is. everyone meet the woman the myth the legend the awful bully who will absolutely rip your head off and eat it, Puncture! fun little fact, Puncture was my first TF OC :) anyways, she's here at long last! which is, frankly, awful news for everyone else. this is another "transition" chapter, but dw, we're getting right back into it in the next one >:)

and once again thank you to @callsign-relic for starburst :)

previous chapter can be found here, start can be found here

word count: 4409

chapter below the cut!

triggers for this chapter: robogore. puncture's a bruiser and she doesn't take prisoners, rip.

She needed to get up, but she couldn’t even fragging move. Face down in the filthy water, Helmbreaker fought against her own systems for control, cursing both them and the Seeker who’d done this to her as pain wracked her circuits and wires. Error messages for every system she had stacked upon one another, fighting for the endless dominance of alerting her to just how fragged up she was.

Just one blast from the Seeker had done this. The damn mech had bite, she had to admit. The prior shock in her stasis pod had barely felt like a tickle–at the time, she’d been too enraged to even think about why she’d felt anything, locked within it. Now? She possibly owed the damnable thing a small apology, at least for keeping her from initially frying.

For 2.3 million years trapped in a half stasis, though, she thought it more than deserved the painful death she’d given it.

The little Autobot who’d inspired her current predicament was lying on his back in the water nearby, wings and servos twitching. She could see his mouth moving, but no sound was coming out. Just as her voxbox was currently glitching, proudly displaying its panic in the form of a bright red textbox, his was as well –which meant he couldn’t ask for help.

Good. It gave her time to permanently silence him. Given their prior interaction she knew he’d phoned for reinforcements, but as with all SOS calls, said reinforcements likely weren’t arriving for at least fifteen kliks. Which meant she had about five to get up, one to completely snuff his spark out, and nine to figure out whether she was in proper form to slaughter them all.

Oh, and she needed to do something about the Seeker. That needed addressing, too.

‘Come…on…’ she thought to herself, twitching her claws. They sent ripples through the water as feeling began creeping back in. Her frame felt cold despite the heat around her, like she was being defrosted after an expedition on a dead planet.

What in the Pit did that Seeker do? She found its ability interesting–something that completely disabled other technological forms, including other Cybertronians. Judging from how it had made her malfunction, it seemed to be rooted in causing glitches; none of the error messages she was observing were critical, notably. It was as if her systems had all been forced to grind to a halt, and the resulting build-up of inputs with nowhere to go was what actually caused her to become stuck.

Very, very interesting. Such an ability would make sense on a ‘con who specialized in weaponry, she’d think, like a tank or perhaps a drone. Why a Seeker? Seekers were by nature weak, lightweight soldiers designed to be flung at the enemy in droves so that the real hitters like herself could come in and clean up. They were expendable. Why put something so devastating on one?

They’re all dead. The words played in her processor again. She’d been in the dark for 2.3 million years about the status of the Autobot/Decepticon conflict, but she wasn’t fool enough to believe those lies. The Autobot lying nearby was proof enough that the conflict still raged. And the Seeker lying nearby, with such a devastating ability…

She wondered if, perhaps, the thing was in some way related to them all being ‘dead’.

Which was what she would be if she didn’t pry herself off the ground.

“GET…UP…” She ordered herself, arms shaking as they struggled to lift her heavy body out of the water. Her voxbox displayed one more warning, then blinked back online. Still, static distorted her words as they were spoken. “You’re…better…than…this…!”

If she had been down for as long as she was now in The Pit, she’d be dead. Period. Once one hit the dirt they had all of four seconds to recover, usually less. The higher level matches she’d participated in, the ones which had given her a name, were the ones where only one mech walked out functioning. And she was not about to be taken away in a body bag.

“Hey…’Con…can ya pipe down?” The little Autobot squeaked out, his arm raising slightly as he spoke. “I’m…a’ready…tired…of ya voice.”

Oh, joy. He was back online too.

She cast him a glare more venomous than the concoctions swirling beneath her mask. “How’s about I rip your audials out? Then you don’t have to listen anymore.”

“If it means…never hearin’ you again…” And he chuckled, which sent a flare through her system so powerful her legs finally responded properly.

The errors in her HUD swirled as Helmbreaker rose to shaky pedes. Her claws flexed over and over, forcing feeling back into them. She cracked her neck both ways, rolling it a few times before pushing her chassis out and parting her shell.

Shell. Ugh. She didn’t even want to think about how horrible she looked right now. Did she even still resemble Helmbreaker? The claws were a drastic downgrade to her fists, and the shell on her back could never make up for the two halves of the battering ram she’d previously sported. Even if she couldn’t see her helmet, she knew it was missing her characteristic horns. And the mask she now wore, with its undesirable probosces?

In all truths she understood why the Seeker purged on her when they’d touched it, but that hadn’t made the fact that it purged on her any better.

The little Autobot was surprisingly unafraid as she took a step forward, then another one. It was hard going–her systems continued flashing errors, though they were gradually dissipating as time ticked on. When she loomed over the tiny Autobot like the Necrobot itself, he smirked despite his situation, wings flitting with agitation.

“Well lookit…you! Comin’ ta…kick me…while I’m down? Typical ‘Con…can’t beat me…when I’m up…could ya?”

Her optics narrowed. “You misunderstand me, Autobot. I’m not going to kick you.” Looming over him, she raised a pede. “I’m going to crush your helm and hang your body from the trees.”

And that’s when the reality of the situation finally seemed to hit him. The little Autobot’s wings suddenly stopped, his entire body stiffening. Beneath his visor she could see how his optics went wide.

Primus, she loved that. The fear in their optics when they realized they were going to die was just as thrilling as the portent of a strong opponent. She grinned beneath her mask, probosces twitching excitedly without her even thinking of them.

“Any last words?” She said. “Beg.”

And beg he did.

“My buds–my buds are coming!” He yelled. “If-If ya don’t hurt me, they’ll–they’ll be nice with ya! I can put in a good–a good word! I’m, hey, I’m just a little guy, ya know? A little guy! What was I gonna do to you and the seeky?”

Seeky. Oh, she was absolutely using that against the next one she found, considering the other one was probably dead. Probably.

“I recall you saying you would put in a ‘good word’ if I surrendered. You seem to be offering me the same thing if I spare you.” She tapped a claw against her mask. “Seems like you don’t have much to offer beyond that, hm?” She lowered her pede, letting the claws on it grip the edges of his helm, but applying no pressure beyond that. “Your allies, they’re on their way now, right?”

“Ye-yeup! And they’re more’n capable of takin’ you down, so you better keep me ‘round, so they won’t–”

“How many of them?”

“Wha? Uh…at least seven!”

Seven Autobots. She looked her claws over, opening and closing them. They were no fist, and with the last of her errors closing in her HUD, she decided some practice wouldn’t hurt. Seven was plenty.

“Then it seems you’ve nothing substantial to offer me, Autobot.” She spoke it without even looking at him. “Bye.”

He screamed out a “WAIT–” right as she began to apply pressure. The impact forced him below the water, pink bubbles rising as he screamed in pain. She smiled sadistically at the sound of his helm cracking, splitting open to reveal his delicate inner circuitry and processor. That was her favorite part. Pink rose up in streams. Applying a bit more pressure, she counted on her claws. Three, two, o–

An energon bolt shot into her chassis, the impact knocking her back. Planting her pedes, her gaze shot in the direction the bolt had come from as her body hunched, probosces flexing as an enraged buzz roared out from within her. Was that seriously her battle cry now?

“Back off, ‘Con!” Through the trees, an Autobot only about half her size emerged–he looked like some kind of water vehicle. She raised an optical ridged and quickly scanned the area, where was his–

Another bolt zapped into her helm, this one from the left. The surprise left her staggering back, almost losing her stance as she struggled to adopt a wider one to face them both. Her HUD flashed red for just a moment before the damage scan automatically began, confidently informing her that her armor was at 85%.

The blow had been more of a surprise than anything else.

The second Autobot swooped down, doing a flip to transform back into his robot mode. A kind of aircraft, though nothing like the Seeker jets that her fellow ‘Cons utilized. Even the aerial forms of Autobots were inferior to them, just like their fighting styles.

Two of them. She could take them. But where were the other five?

“Starburst!” With the aerial one defending him, the terrestrial Autobot quickly moved to Starburst’s side, pulling him away from her. She scoffed at the motion, staring down the barrel of the rifle aimed for her helm.

“That’s it? This is all you Autobots thought to send!?” She scoffed, splaying her claws. “Don’t make me laugh!”

“Back down,” the aerial one warned, servo snuggly fit on the trigger of his rifle. “There’s no need for anymore fighting.”

“Damage is bad–he needs urgent repairs,” the terrestrial one said, hoisting Starburst out of the water. Oh, yes. Her handiwork was on full display with his shattered visor and bent faceplate. His helmet was crinkled like pathetic aluminum, and Energon was leaking from dozens of cracks. “Can you handle him?”

“I’ve got this,” the other assured, not once taking his eyes off Helmbreaker, who was now rather annoyed.

“I’m a femme, you inconsiderate slag,” she snapped. “And if you had even half the broken processor he does–” she gestured at Starburst, “--you’d both be running for your sparks by now.”

“You wish, ‘Con. Radio for help and get him back, I’ll–”

And before he could even finish his sentence, she lunged. The aerial one discharged his weapon immediately, a painful bolt firing clean into the right side of her chassis. Her armor smoked, an irritating heat building just beneath it, but held. She was on him before he could even comprehend the lack of damage, claws swiping straight for his helm.

It didn’t knock it off, like her proper fists would have. Instead, she claws pierced clean through the metal, ripping it open like paper. She felt cables snap and heard metal shriek as the impact knocked him to the ground, rifle abandoned to grip at his face. Energon splattered into the water and painted her claws in a thick layer.

She flicked the stuff away and she turned her gaze on the terrestrial one. His optics were wide with terror, caught between defending himself or trying to make a break for it with his injured ally. She took immediate advantage, charging for him.

He dropped his ally just in time for her to tackle him to the ground, crushing him with her full weight. Judging from just the creaking of metal alone, he’d need a trip to the mechanic after the action. She’d change that to the morgue.

Rearing up, she clicked her claws together into their scythe mode and punctured clean through his helm, ripping it free from its cables with a twist. Pink rained out of the wires that hung from her trophy, which she raised overhead as if displaying to an invisible audience. Rivulets of the stuff ran down her helm and chassis, leaving trails over her new black paint.

A burning pain suddenly lit up in the center of her back, the impact causing her to stumble forward ever so slightly. Glaring over her shoulder, she spotted the aerial one on one knee, pointing his rifle at her again. Several gouges had completely torn his faceplate and helm, displaying his delicate inner workings to the world. One optic was threatening to fall from its socket. He didn’t care.

Bolt after bolt shot into her as she turned, tossing the helm of her trophy aside, and calmly walked to finish off her prey. As death closed in on him, manifesting as a wickedly sharp sickle, she didn’t once see fear in his optics.

SLUTCH

And his limp frame hit the ground, now devoid of its vital helm. She met its gaze on her scythe as his lights went out, ensuring that the last thing he saw was her victorious expression. He was a fighter, that one. How unfortunate he picked the wrong side. Then, like she’d done so many times before, she raised his helm over her head and roared.

There was no audience besides the organics, but they would suffice. And hey, perhaps there were a few Autobots in waiting, hiding after what they’d seen her do to their friends.

“REMEMBER MY NAME!” She screamed. “KNOW WHOM YOU FACE! I AM–”

A ripple in the water caught her attention and drew her gaze to her own reflection. There, looking back at her from the murky depths, was a black Insecticon. Long hooked claws made up her servos. A shell in the shape of wings hung on her back. Segmented plating covered up her chassis and bent antennae twitched on her helm.

She was Helmbreaker. But the mech looking back at her was not. She’d felt it when she first woke up, all those millions of years ago, this sense of wrongness, that all of a sudden, the plating she had been forged into had changed, and it wasn’t hers anymore. And the thing in the water, the thing she was currently inhabiting, was not named Helmbreaker.

She was not Helmbreaker, if she was this. Then who was she?

The sound of water splashing broke her out of her thoughts. She looked to the sound only to see Starburst back on his feet despite his injuries. Their optics met for only a second.

And he immediately transformed, blasting off into the sky before she could swipe at him.

A dozen thoughts ran through her processor. He’d bring back reinforcements. He’d announce her presence to everyone. With his escape this planet’s hostility towards her was sealed. The entirety of the Autobot army could very well come for her now–her and the Seeker. The clock was ticking on them both–the very last of the Decepticons.

And she laughed.

“TELL THEM! TELL ALL OF THEM WHAT HAPPENED HERE!” She roared after him. “AND REMEMBER MY NAME!”

She had about one second to pick a name, and decided to follow the tradition of her finishing move.

“I AM PUNCTURE!”

—---------

The organics were weak, but they did their job well enough. Puncture pulled the vines taut and wrapped them around the roots of the trees, suspending the Autobot’s heads just below where the branches sprouted. Beneath the trees she’d dragged both the bodies, slumping them against the trunks. Stepping back, she admired her work only for a moment–it was a pitiful display of her capabilities, but it would serve well enough as a warning to any who wanted to approach this place.

She’d have to bet on it intimidating her future opponents in some way. Autobots attacked in swarms. There were few lone fighters who knew the true glory of combat and who dedicated themselves, body and mind, to the thrill of taking down an equally skilled opponent in a rapturous death match. No, the majority tended to pair up and gun down whoever they saw running across the field. And they called it victory.

She spat, additional pink Energon mingling with the stained water. Then she headed back for the Insecticon ship.

The Seeker was slumped against a chair on the bridge, optics dark. It had entered stasis before she’d even found it, and no amount of banging its helm with her claws had woken the damn thing up. This was inconvenient to her for a multitude of reasons, with the least being that she didn’t have someone she could boss around, and the most being that her connection to the rest of the Decepticon force, be they alive or dead, was now cut off.

She perhaps had herself to blame for it a little, but she was too proud to admit such a thing, and instead blamed it on the faulty wiring of mass producer shlock. It wasn’t like Seekers were particularly useful on the best of the days. The Elite Trine earned their name (and place) from the fact that, unlike the rest of their ill-fated brethren, they’d had the fortune to be blessed with abilities that made them slightly more than sitting cyberducks on a pond.

Didn’t mean any of them were particularly good at combat, though, and didn’t mean that the Seeker she had, despite boasting such an ability, was any good.

She stepped into the ship and did her best to at least partially pull its stuck door closed. She’d done a number on it while enraged, and the metal cried with an agony often reserved for gamblers regretting their life choices. Leaving it, she gave the damn thing a powerful kick that left it dented, just as she’d done for all those gamblers who’d been thrown into The Pit. The door, unlike them, survived.

Her best bet was the stasis pods, she thought, or perhaps reactivating the bridge in some way. All ships had self-repair mechanisms, and all of them had at least some way of repairing their crew. It had been millions of years, and she didn’t doubt that her Insecticon brethren had possibly ruined their ship beyond repair, but she had to have some hope.

Because if she didn’t, and what the Seeker had said was true…

But it wasn’t, because Seekers were weak and lied to get what they wanted. Ask Starscream.

She snickered and ducked into the stasis pods room, her danger sensor already going off. She tried to mute the damn thing as she approached the last of the pods, still as dark as the day she’d stepped into her own. It was fully intact and completely unused; surely, it had to be functional.

She tacked her claw onto the screen and encountered her first problem: it wasn’t picked up by the sensor. Puncture tacked it a few more times, tried pressing all of her claws against it, and even bopped it a few times with her palm. Nothing.

Without proper servos, she was dead in the water. Well, nothing the Autobots couldn’t fix. One torn off servo later, she was back with a proper appendage. The screen responded this time, lighting up with a cheerful blue…and immediately corrupting.

She growled and gave the pod a kick, which made a dozen error messages pop up. When she tried to close them, more took their places. Her danger sensor was beeping wildly in her HUD, filling her processor with reminders of being trapped in a small, circular space, crammed in on herself, plating melting and reshaping, code being pushed straight into her mind and replacing everything she was, rewriting her from gladiator to Insecticon–

She yelled and punched, not even thinking about what she hit. Despite claws having replaced her fists, they still broke through the glass from force alone. The entire upper half of the pod shattered and fell away, clacking onto the floor in a glittering mess.

She screamed in frustration and threw the severed servo away, turning and unleashing her frustration on the pod. Metal tore and sparks flew. Wires poked forth and were promptly chopped. Throughout it all she screamed, over and over, as if berating the mindless thing would somehow make its death all the more humiliating.

When it was done she gave the mess of mangled metal one final kick before returning to the bridge. The damn thing was probably fried from the stupid Seeker anyways. That meant she only had the bridge to work with.

She approached the computer that had once powered their small shuttle and tapped on its keyboard, commanding it to wake up. When the screen failed to respond to the buttons, she yelled at it, demanding it function. That didn’t work either.

Exasperated, she ran her claws over the keyboard, scattering keys everywhere. They made quiet ploosh sounds as they disappeared into the water submerging half the ship. That irritated her even more, and she considered turning her rage on the walls before her optics landed back on the Seeker.

Perhaps she could just pick its processor instead. It ran the risk of killing it, but hey, can’t make a clock without breaking a few gears. Stepping forward, she grabbed the Seeker’s helmet and attempted to wrench it from the Con’s head.

Cables and wiring strained as she pulled. It seemed Seeker helmets were directly attached to their heads, which made the entire process more difficult for her. Scowling, Puncture let go and considered just what parts she could rip off nonlethally. Audials, optics, finials…

But the more she thought it over, the more it seemed that she wouldn’t be able to access the Seeker’s processor without ripping half of its helm open and killing it. Huffing, she backhanded the thing and crossed her arms, glaring down at its unconscious form. Part of its faceplate was now ruined, stricken with three marks.

“You sure left me in one hell of a situation,” she muttered, tapping a claw on her arm as she began to pace. “Where the hell even am I?”

Earth, she knew that. But where on Earth? How close was she to the nearest Autobot and Decepticon outposts? What was the approximate amount of soldiers each side had?

How hadn’t her side won yet?

She needed answers. Before taking on any great opponent, it was important to study them–their habits, their flaws, their strengths, and most importantly of all, their morals. How depraved her foe could become when desperate was key to preventing herself from being caught off guard.

They always grew desperate when they realized they were going to die. She’d seen it happen thousands of times before, whether it was her hand causing it or one of her brethren’s–her real brethren. The mechs she’d been forged alongside in the Pit.

They were dead now. They’d been stupid. Strength was the most important trait to have in the Decepticon ranks, but intelligence could not be understated–and that was what she’d had over them. Even if her fighting spirit had also once demanded to take on Megatron, despite seeing what he’d done to Strutsnapper and Sparkripper.

Strength wasn’t cutting it here. She’d killed the two Autobots with ease, but what of when fifty of them came raining down? A glorious death in the field was her fate, but so early? And as this…thing? Her claw tapped faster. No. There had to be something else more she could do.

Passing by the open door, Puncture looked at the display she’d made. The two Autobots had been weak, and all they were now was evidence of such. They were weak, and their brethren would come to take them home and bury them in coffins, as opposed to leaving their bodies out in the middle of the field…

Her gaze drifted back to the Seeker. Trapped in stasis and on the brink of death, if she left its body outside by the Autobots, then they would certainly find it, and being soft-hearted, take it in. Repair it. Claim it was to be “brought to justice”.

And wherever they went, she could follow. Wait till they were finished, then take her freshly repaired ally back.

It would be a lot of fighting though…and she had no way of repairing herself. She looked at her newfound claws and frowned. They were nowhere near as effective at instant incapacitation as her fists had been. Her body had been drastically changed from its original state as a tank, surely it had to have come with some kind of benefit to make up for such a loss of power.

She supposed, then, it wasn’t an awful time for a self-examination. Even if it was something she had been putting off. Acknowledging how much she had truly changed made it harder to convince herself that reverting completely was possible.

She didn’t know if she wanted to live in a world where this was what she was stuck as forever.

Running a self scan and checking her joints and features over, Puncture learned a few things about her frame she already knew–and didn’t.

What she already knew? Her new frame was modeled after an Earth organism. This modification came with new features such as claws, a shell to defend her back, antennae to detect changes in the air, and venom in her proboscis to incapacitate prey.

What she didn’t know? It was something called an “ambush bug”. Ambush bugs were, true to their names, ambush predators. They used their scythe-like claws to grip onto their prey, and jammed their proboscis in to paralyze it. From there, all the prey could do was watch, trapped in its own frame, as its innards were liquified and consumed.

As a predatory creature whose primary food source was Energon, her prey choice was apparent. The probosces on her faceplate were designed for piercing plating, and the venom boiling behind her mask was more than sufficient for melting it. And as an ambush predator…

Well, it wasn’t her style. But it would do fine enough for infiltrating an Autobot base. They’d come back for their dead. They always did. They’d find the Seeker and take it in. She’d follow right behind.

And if what else she read on her scan was true…they wouldn’t once see her coming.

#six cycles later #oc: puncture #my ocs #my writing #maccadam #yeah i'll put a maccadam there finally lol.#hope y'all like puncture as much as i do :)#or hate her thats fair too she's an asshole #problematic women my beloved #long time viewers may recognize her as the character i once called a 'female overlord'#which is probably why i simp for her so bad #anyways enjoy y'all! :)

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xanthippe74 · 9 months

Text

The mood this year, as this header photo demonstrates, was Le Tired. Just physically and emotionally slogging along. Brain stuck on perpetual static. A pull-the-covers-over-my-head sort of year. I read a few books, watched a lot of shows, found new songs to listen to on repeat, and spent way too much time futzing around on Tumblr.

But that's not what this post is about! This is to remind myself that I did accomplish writer-ly things this year, even if it didn't feel like it sometimes. So here's my 2023 Fandom Year in Review:

Drarry

🐈 A Dreadful Invasion (of the Feline Persuasion) rated G | 6K words

Most of the time, it’s easy for Harry to forget that Draco Malfoy is his next-door neighbour—until the night Malfoy seemingly goes round the twist in his back garden. Of course Harry has to investigate. A birthday gift for @caroll-in.

🍷 Under the Table rated T, 4K words

A string of nearly-insufferable dinner parties has made Draco acquainted with Harry Potter’s completely insufferable, social-climbing boyfriend. But tonight it seems like Potter’s finally had enough, and Draco’s more than happy to watch it all play out from across the table.

WIP progress: I added about 25K to my Drarry retelling of Howl's Moving Castle. The working title is "Skybound" and it will be about 55 to 60K words when complete (by spring 2024, god help me!). Featuring: lots of banter, secret identities, adventures and misadventures in a floating house, a plucky house-elf, and (of course) a fire demon who wants to make a bargain.

9-1-1 fics, HP recs, and 2023 highlights under the cut!

9-1-1/Buddie

🌧️ It pours, man it pours rated T | 11K words

An endless rainstorm. A head-on collision on a dark canyon road. Eddie and Buck find themselves stranded with a woman in labor after they’re cut off from the rest of the 118 by a flash flood. With the fate of their team unknown, can they weather the night ahead—and mend the rift Buck caused by trying to kiss his best friend?

💣 A Few Good Pranks rated T | 4K words

The firefighters of the 118 decide to give Bobby a turn at pranking them after seeing how disappointed he was to be left out. And since two heads are better than one, why not three? Or four? If only they could figure out who's pranking and who isn't, and who the intended victim is. It's all in good fun, though—as long as everyone is too distracted to notice that Buck and Eddie keep sneaking off alone.

❤️‍🩹Let It Be Me rated T | 1.8K words

After another Buckley Family reunion-turned-disaster, Buck makes a decision about his parents. Of course the 118 has his back. Or, Bobby employs some LAFD equipment to help Buck out—and tell him something he needs to hear.

Episode codas/fix-it ficlets: 1x01 | 1x03 | 2x01 | 2x03 | 6x10 | 6x11 | 6x12 | 6x13 | 6x15

WIP progress: First chapter of a season 3/canon divergence Buddie fic. Featuring: angst with a happy ending, a secret marriage of convenience, and pandemic bed sharing.

HP Rec List

I was inspired by this post to rec twelve favorite fan works from 2023 in twelve days in December. It actually took fourteen days, but I did it!

💖 12 Favorites from 2023 💖

(after posting those twelve, of course I thought of a few more faves that I missed. I'll try to share them soon!)

2023 Highlights

I'm so very grateful for the wonderful, funny, imaginative people here who shared their creative works, the memes that made them laugh, photos of their pets, gif sets of shows I didn't know I needed to watch, and insights into the characters we love. You all got me through the year, honestly.

I had a good time doodling some Halloween treats for Inbox Trick-or-Treating. I hope it will become an annual Tumblr event! Thanks to the folks who rang my doorbell that night and the other blogs who gave out treats.

I truly treasured every kudos, comment, and rec I received this year. I was also very fortunate to receive a few special gifts:

🎙️ EllaMcSmellBella recorded a Podfic of "Spooked in Salem," my Drarry 'Round the World fic.

🎙️ Spades/bumblingbees recorded a Podfic of "Crimson Neon."

📕 @cheriecherishchen wrote a lovely rec for "Vortex" and designed gorgeous book covers for that fic and its sequel, "Riptide."

✏️ @saijordison drew this incredible piece of art for "Riptide."

And finally, if you read all the way to the end of this post, I'm grateful for YOU. 😁

Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year and an excellent 2024!

#2023 year in review #my writing #drarry #buddie

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 years

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In the post-Twilight scenario where Edward cheats, who does each Cullen side with?

Edward will cheat on Bella, a manifesto.

Anon, you're basically asking me to write the fic, you know that right?

It depends exactly how it goes down, when things are revealed, and how it's presented to the family.

Edward Cheats with Jacob to Get Out of Sleeping with Bella

For the Love of a Woman features its own breakdown, but in that scenario it's very clearly Edward having gone completely bonkers and abandoning Bella for a man he may or may not have feelings for (it's unclear to the others by the end of the fic).

In that case, it was easy for most of the family (sans Esme) to side against Edward even with no real connection to Bella.

Edward 'Practices' to Prepare for Sleeping with Bella

Two Men and a Baby and Prima Nocta star here and mostly, so far, the family has no idea what's happening or what to think of it. They're mostly just very scandalized by all of it.

If push came to shove, we'd probably see most of them taking Bella's side again, because this is very clearly Edward's fault, but both fics sort of avoid the issue.

Edward Gets Tired of His Wife

Here's where it gets complicated.

What we have here is years of a dysfunctional marriage where, depending how this goes down, it seems as if Edward's simply fallen out of love with his wife.

Unlike the other situations, failing to feel what Bella wishes for him to feel is not his fault, it can't be helped, what can be helped is the fact that he acted on it by sleeping with someone behind her back rather than trying to break it off.

But then you get to them being stuck together forever, that breaking it off would mean one leaving the coven most likely, or being awkwardly around forever, not to mention what will happen with Renesmee.

It could be argued by some that Edward does want to love Bella, that this was an act of passion, but that he hopes that it will fade and they can rekindle their relationship.

So, I guess to break this down, here's where I'm at as far as how characters will take it.

Alice

Alice sides with the winning team, the one who will bring the most stability and peace to the family as a whole. Most likely, this will mean 'siding' with Edward, though 'siding' here will be enabling him to conduct his affair on the sly until he gets bored with this new lover, killing the lover if it's a human before Edward can do the cheating, gaslighting Bella into thinking Edward's not really cheating, and doing everything in her power to keep the status quo.

She won't like it, whatever she ends up doing, and as in canon she'll give Edward endless grief over it and blame him for things going completely awry, but if she sides with Bella then the family will fracture and she'll most likely lose her brother.

If she plays her cards right, then she can keep everything as it is.

Bella

Depends how Edward manages to present it/how good a job of gaslighting Alice does. Bella could very well be convinced that Edward cheating is her fault because she's not good enough and never was, that this is a personal failing on her end. Bella could very well meekly step aside and make room for Edward's latest lover, telling everyone it's okay, and then crying in the bathroom when she thinks no one is listening.

Carlisle

Depends how it's presented/the order he finds things out in.

He'll think this is a giant mess but potentially that this is a sign that Bella and Edward married too soon and married too young: they weren't meant to last.

It's unfortunate, but no one can make Edward love Bella if he doesn't. The best he can do is try to mediate the fallout.

Now, if he finds out Edward's sleeping around with Tanya and or a human behind Bella's back, that he hasn't settled things with Bella first, then he's going to be much more disapproving about all of this.

Edward

Edward always supports Edward because Edward is always right.

Emmett

He's staying out of this one. He's going to say whatever gives him the least amount of grief personally and wait until it blows over. This will mean agreeing with whatever conclusion Rosalie comes to in public and in private not saying much or just giving Edward an awkward shake of the head whenever Edward looks at him imploringly.

Esme

Depends.

If she's come to see Bella as a daughter, she'll be very torn, as she wants them both to be happy, would prefer if they're happy with each other, but again if Edward's not happy with Bella then no one can make him happy with Bella.

Esme doesn't really understand why Edward changed his mind, why he would risk wife and daughter for this, but she also won't want to judge him for this and will try to give him the benefit of the doubt.

If Edward's very openly cheating on her though, and with no rational behind it as in For the Love of a Woman, Esme's going to have a harder time coming to terms with this.

Jasper

Jasper's also staying out of this one. He very likely disapproves of all of it, for all that he never says it out loud, and immediately thinks lesser of Edward as this means Edward is a creature of passion who fancies himself in love with whatever catches his eye next, but he would view it as not his place to say what he thinks.

Plus, Alice is falling apart over this, he needs to focus on supporting her through this mess.

Renesmee

Renesmee gets a lot of awkward talks with her extended family about how her mommy and daddy don't love each other anymore. She didn't notice because mommy and daddy hadn't talked to her in weeks.

Alternately, Bella sobs to Renesmee telling her they'll get through this and Renesmee finds herself in the strange circumstance of trying to comfort her mother.

Rosalie

Rosalie I imagine is torn. On the one hand, she never liked Bella all that much and that Edward fell out of love with her is unfortunate but not unthinkable to her. Could they try to do couple's therapy or make it work? Sure, but it's not technically Edward's fault and something he shouldn't be blamed for.

However, if Edward is openly cheating/caught before the cracks become known, Rosalie's going to think he's a selfish pig who didn't even try to keep his marriage together.

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thistleandthorn-rpg · 1 year

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Name: James "Jamie" Aaron Prescott Designation: Sub Age: 21 Birthdate: August 4th, 2002 Faceclaim: Timothée Chalamet Orientation: Bisexual Kinks: bondage, sensory play, sensory deprivation, spanking, hair pulling, and he’s open to explore others Anti-Kinks: scat, gore, permanent marking, and you’re always welcome to ask if you’re unsure

Key Points:

Energetic and a chatterbox when he wants to be

People pleaser and will offer his help whenever and however he can

Flexible from over fifteen years of gymnastics and proud of his skills even if he doesn’t brag

Can have a hard time sitting still unless he’s focused on a task

BIO:

Jamie grew up in what he would consider to be your average life. He had family that he loved and adored, a roof over his head, clothes on his back, and food in his stomach. He never had to want for anything, but he also rarely found himself asking for anything either. As he grew, Jamie was your happy, friendly, and energetic individual that had a hard time sitting still for extended periods of time. At first, his parents thought it was your normal toddler/small child behavior, but even as Jamie got older it soon became clear he seemed to have an endless supply of energy and continued to have a hard time sitting still for an extended period of time, unless he had a task or something to keep him focused. This led to his parents enrolling him into gymnastics early on to try and burn some of his seemingly endless energy off, and the young boy took to it like a fish to the water and has continued with it even to this day.

Of course, some might question Jamie and his love for gymnastics given the fact he’s a boy, but young Jamie has never let any of that phase him. He was happy, content, and he didn’t care if anyone thought he’d be better suited doing something else. Gymnastics was something he enjoyed, and he didn’t care what anyone else thought about it. Not that any of them were ever malicious with their questioning, it’s simply curiosity on why he has stuck with it for as long as he had.

Jamie learning he was a submissive was of little surprise to him or his parents. He’d always been an eager to help and willingly to volunteer his time to help others, and he’d always been the type to soak up praise like a sponge. If anything, his parents would have been surprised to see him test as anything different. He’s capable of handling his own, if he neesd to, but Jamie is definitely too much of a people pleaser to have much of a Dominant bone in his body. The only thing that worries his parents is the fact Jamie is friendly and eager to please and they do have the fear he’ll be taken advantage of if he’s not careful.

BIO QUESTIONS:

What are your feelings about the mark you have received? - I feel as though my mark fits me perfectly. I enjoy helping others and doing what I can to help people and take care of them.

How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it? - I don’t… believe my feelings differ from my parents. It’s the way the world works and it’s meant to keep us safe. I see nothing wrong with it as long as it continues to do what it’s suppose to do.

Where do you see yourself after you graduate? - I hope to see myself with a Dominant to call my own and create a life together or maybe traveling and seeing the world together.

How do you feel about authority? - I respect authority and those with it. It’s meant to keep things running smoothly, and acting out or disrespecting that will only cause problems for everyone.

#d/s rp #riverdale rp #oc rp #group rp #tumblr rp #taken #jamie prescott #student bio taken #student bio

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midnight-and-his-melodiverse · 2 years

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"A Welcome to the Writeblr Corner" (from "From Midnight, With Love")

II. A Welcome to the Writeblr Corner (a fictional story that delves into my first steps in being a writeblr!)

I found myself standing in the center of a very stimulating landscape. Almost too stimulating, in fact.

This landscape I could see around me was the darkest of blue for a solid ground, the wall was filled with reblogs and textposts, many of those that were from mutuals of mine and people that I follow. And even though this was a virtual world, that didn't stop very intrusive promotional ads from occasionally blocking my view of certain posts, as I had to physically keep my distance from them, instead of scrolling past them.

The landscape was filled with seas of people flocking to the constantly-updating walls to reblog the latest art piece, latest new fanfic and original work, or a very emotion-driven piece of poetry, penned by a user who's identity had ceased to exist, lost within this hellsite's annals of time and punctuated by an anonymous icon that acted as that blog's tombstone, with the epitaph reading whatever that user's last post before death was.

After mulling on that for awhile, and walking over to the wall to like that poetry post from that user who no longer exists, safely archived by reblogs, I liked the post to pay my respects and began walking towards my own personal room, of which was my blog's control panel and also a lounging space.

However, on my way there, I heard the faint chirping of birds and the rustling of trees, behind a cold white wall, repeating down the hallway seemingly endlessly, with noisy fluorescent lighting illuminating the way forward.

I turned around, and walked back out into the stimulating landscape of Tumblr's hub, before the ambiance of the birds and trees had become slightly louder and I faced the source of the sound. A large wooden door with a sun and open book painted on the front.

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

Nervously, I continued forward, and after opening and shutting the door behind me, leaving me within the enclosure of a meadow, I admired how nice it was to no longer be inundated with notifications every second, and bathed myself in the serenity of nature. The tweeting of birds, and rustling of trees were more sonically noticeable by now.

I strolled through, and from outside yet another door, I perceived a very calming atmosphere, as I perked my ears up to the door, to hear the flipping of book pages, the typing of laptops, the sipping of coffee, and general soft conversation.

I had to psyche myself up for a bit, before I felt confident enough to go in. But my legs must have completely taken control, because before I knew it, I found myself facing the exact door I entered into. Only this time, there was a fluffy wreath on the front, followed by the words scrawled into a neat script: "Writeblr Corner: A comfort lounge for both the veteran wordsmiths and those who are new to the art of pen and page."

I closed my eyes before opening the door with a loud creak and stepping foot onto what seemed like a freshly cleaned carpet.

I opened my eyes soon after, and was greeted by the lovely aroma of coffee, and looked further around me to see endless walls of books, most of them penned by the people in this lounge, who were strangers to me at first.

I strolled around the isles as soft jazz music played over the speakers, until I found a table with a piece of lined paper sitting face up. "Introduce yourself to the patrons!" it read, almost as if it was beckoning me to introduce myself to the sea of wordsmiths who had no idea about me or what I did.

But I wrote down my name, my stories that I had in progress, and other things that people should know about me, before heading to a large corkboard, which held writer introductions from ages past to more recent ones, and I stuck mine under recent, and eagerly awaited to see what would happen.

I heard the pushing in of a chair as someone got up from their table of friends and was heading my way. We briefly made eye contact before they beelined for the corkboard, grabbed a pen and scrawled something down.

Before I could ask for their name, the person walked back to their table and sat back down. Which left me to go discover who out of the many patrons here, after all, this lounge was very full with the sound of lively conversation, had left something underneath my introduction.

It turns out, that multiple people had left something under my introduction. I walked up to the board, zoomed into my introduction paper and struggled to read the very ornate handwriting. "Hello Midnight!" read one of the comments, signed by someone named Natsume, which was written in purple ink. "Hi bud!" read another of the comments which was written off to the left side of the paper, but still visible and written in blue-pink ink. This one was signed by someone named Athena.

Many other comments were scrawled all along my introduction paper, and I was happy people were greeting me.

I eventually within a couple days found myself at home and a regular within the Writeblr Corner.

This was certainly the greatest of welcomes I could've expected.

#midnight's rambles #midnight's writings

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numberonepeacock · 2 months

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Stella's Relationship with the Other Critters

This is for my A Star's Reascend AU

DogDay - She loves the spinal’s chaotic energy and sometimes seems to match it but thinks things through a little better than him when she’s high on energy. She was also the one who introduced him to dog toys and bone treats. He’s grown to really love chewing on one of the treats which he’s not allowed to do in front of kids though they can’t stop them from playing with the toys with him which he loves. At first, the higher-ups tried to put a stop to that using the kids; it’s not good if they get all that slava on their hands, they could get infected from it or if not careful they could get hurt while playing tug-a-war like breaking something by falling on the ground or getting rope burn. Every single one of these things had a solution to them. Someone would wipe the ball clean if it had been in Dogday’s mouth and Dogday played gently with the kids during any kind of tug-a-war. The only time he’s ever actually tried to win is when one of his friends is playing with him. When Stella found out how much he loves peanut butter and would eat any kind of pie she made him a peanut butter pie, which he didn’t even know existed. She loves making peanut butter treats for him. Funny enough, peanut butter is how she fell in love with him. She had walked into the kitchen one night and found him with a jar of peanut butter and a large pile of carrot sticks, celery sticks, apple slices, and a few boxes of crackers. The two ended up eating the sticks with the sticky substance together and talking to each other. While doing this she felt her heart start beating fast and her cheeks flush. She tried to convince herself she wasn't in love with him but when she looked back at him and found him licking the insides of the empty jar with his tongue she realized that yes, she was in love with him.

CatNap - She likes how laid back he is and protective of those he cares about. She and him also share the same hatred of Doctor Sawyer and the other scientist though she shows it more and is cocker with them. She also loves how gentle he is with the kids when putting them to sleep. He isn’t a pushover and gets them to sleep without falling into their trap of trying to stay up. She loves watching him play with yarn balls or with dangling feathers (he knows very well to never try and play with her tail, even when he’s in hunting mood). She also introduced him to Sushi which she happens to know how to make and taught Pigsy how to do it (she doesn’t make it for the kids only for the adults). Though she blames herself for introducing him to catnip which only led to him being tied up and locked in his room and it being banned from Playcare. Stella actually fell in love with Catnap first since she got to see how he acted with the kids when he’s by himself. Due to how similar she and him are she starts to notice when he pulls away from her and Dogday, she does try to fix it but soon realizes that she’s too late.

DogDay & Catnap - These two were the first ones in the group that she met who showed such kindness to her. She stuck to them real quickly, this is due to the fact that they remind her of two of her best friends from her previous life (who happened to be a married lesbian couple). Whenever Catnap starts to get tied while playing with Dogday, whose energy seems endless, Stella always agrees to step in for the cat which Dogday is fine with. She’s also fine with being the cat’s napping spot, she’s even been seen draping her tail over him.

Hoppy Hopscotch - When Hoppy first saw her she believed that Stella was going to be a pretty bird who only cared about her appearance so that’s why she never invited her to play any games with her and the kids. When she first asked to join in a game Hoppy was surprised but didn’t want to get yelled at if her tail got damaged so she told her no. After getting to know her better she realized that Stella was far from another pretty girl. Learning that she used to play soccer and volleyball in her past life really cleared that statement. Thanks to her energy she can keep up with Hoppy and is mostly the voice of reason whenever she, Kickin, and Hoppy are playing games with the kids.

KickinChicken - Despite the two both being birds they didn’t get along in the beginning and she still has a rocky relationship with him. She hasn’t forgotten the time he pushed her in the pool resulting in her being sent to the labs to get her tail fixed. It hurt her more because Doctor Sawyer had been there and was gonna be involved. As her punishment for being so careless with the kids he had her tied and gagged and no pain meds or even stopping doing something that hurt her. However despite the pain she was put through she never snitched on Kickin because of her promise to that little girl to protect the other Smiling Critters from pain that she can shield them from. She acts civil around Kickin and not like she’s really trying to befriend him, which luckily he hasn’t picked up on yet because most of the group finds him annoying and leaves when he’s being annoying.

Bobby BearHug - Stella befriended her faster than the others after Bobby realized that she had feelings for Dogday and Catnap. She’s kept it a secret but encourages her to tell them about her feelings which she is reluctant to do. Stella loves teaching her and Crafty about makeup and other fashion stuff. She also loves being their mannequin and vice versa. Whenever Stella has something to talk about that she doesn’t want to tell Dogday or Catnap she always goes to Bobby. She thinks that her past friends would have loved to meet her.

CraftyCorn - Crafty was always shy around Stella in the beginning and tried to open up to her but after the paint incident she closed off from her but once she realized that Stella was only mad because of what followed said event she tried to open up to her again. Stella was less mad about this one because Doctor Sawyer wasn’t involved and they gave her pain meds this time. With Bobby’s help, the two found their shared love of fashion and started to design together. Crafty is no longer shy or skittish around her and loves hanging out with her. She also loves to paint her, Dogday, and Catnap together.

Bubba Bubbaphant - Bubba is the one who has the rockiest relationship with her. He doesn’t trust her and believes there’s something off about her. He maintains a civil relationship with her but anything outside of taking care of the kids he keeps his distance from her. Even after learning her secret, he is still cautious of her but he trusts her a little bit more.

PickyPiggy - Picky was still a little hesitant about letting her cook in the kitchen but was happy to have someone to help her when she really needed it. Stella also made a habit of asking before she cooked or baked anything. Picky does let her cook dinner some nights especially when she’s tired. The two have bonded over food and love making new recipes. Around Stella’s 3 years in Playcare, the two set up a system, one of them cooks both breakfast and dinner while the other does lunch and dessert. They rotate weekly. The whole house loves this and Dogday loves to see that Picky is finally letting someone in her kitchen after years of fighting others over it.

#poppy playtime #A Star's Reascend AU #smiling critters #dogday #catnap #stella star #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #bobby bearhug #craftycorn #bubba bubbaphant #picky piggy #relationship #smiling critters au

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kleinstar · 3 months

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EMPATHEOREM

*available to threads outside ones with me too - just dm me for icons

Powers

Uhh small wounds/scratches get healed up automatically. Normally would be in few seconds but now it's a little slower than that.

Fashionable raincloak outfit that evades water completely unless it's a storm.

Rainbow gem hanging from his neck should not go too far - canon has not confirmed that anything will happen only said that something might happen sadly we dont know so cant really use that just dont rp losing it

Not really a power but you seem to have a lot of random skills from tons of parttime jobs he has done!

Mannerisms

Eiden's generally pretty easygoing guy, I wouldn't call him unflappable but generally takes things as they are and so on. He's considerate and flexible towards others, excellent with kids. He's curious. Appreciates pretty/handsome/guys a lot, might occasionally do some light flirting even. Generally doesn't expect the worst out of people but like can still clock shady vibes to an extent but might help out anyway... Can be silly but he's pretty smart actually! He's pretty sociable and honestly a little bit nosy. Prone to reckless things when people he cares about are in danger but also probably strangers too. Maintains good confidence and if it falters will try to psyche himself up with inner dialogue or even outer. Excitable! Many things are cool! Also a little mischievous. ALSO, he's got surprising amount of charisma! A little prone to being lonely. Bit of a people please, it comes naturally though, prone to peacekeeping even when he's pissed off, tries to look things from many directions so his opinions on things can change up --- but also his temper flares seeing mistreatment of others and so on. Might feel a little awkward about being cared for. Unlikely to admit any weakness which also in turn means he's pretty competitive (not a terrible loser but stubborn for sure).

Memories:

This doesn't necessarily need a memory with it but in the orphanage they made him skip meals if you played with food or had leftovers.Can't not finish a plate and will eat himself sick if the only other option is to toss food away.

general memories of orphanage

teenager rebellious phase, tons of part time jobs again and a lot more temper

memories of some more parttime jobs, countless dates and things of that sort and then finally endless hours at office

memories of klein - warmth, hot guys, suddenly will to life gained but also pretty wild stuff like getting infiltrated into cult to save a friend (got caught immediately), into a criminal organization (got caught before even doing that), infiltrating into youkai party (eventually got caught),into uhhhh infiltrating drug operated red light district (got caught), festivals of different sorts, monsters, traveling by foot, being detective, prison, getting stuck in dreams or in a book made for combat training, organizing idol group, getting stabbed....

spiralememories also free game

Icons:

So apologies i dont have nsfw icons sorted into separate folder bc i use some as normal icons (even evit them out lol), i dont...think theres anything too wild in there tho Also like honestly having to renumber them would suck!! fflflld some icons are also just badly cropped and i just havent bothered with redoing them but im sure you'll live - dm/@ in twitter me for them though!

Feel free to dm me if you want to thread!! ill do an ad soon or immediately idk yet

#empatheorem info //#this got long sorry

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strawberryhierophant · 2 years

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The Onslaught (a short story)

The last light of day clung to the window in a dull orange glow. Night was falling.

"Almost time," David said. His voice was quiet. He spoke with conviction, without fear. "They'll be coming any minute now."

Through the thick, bullet-proof glass my eyes detected no movement. It was that time of day, that slowing of movement that comes dusk. The quiet before the storm. Nothing seemed to move but the flicker and tremor of neon in the distance: the endless cascade of strip centers, their signs blinking in the gathering darkness. All that grey concrete prettied up on its face.

"Why is this empty?" David asked, his voice suddenly urgent. I turned away from the window to find David on his knees, digging in a refrigerator. He pulled out a large container, rising quickly to his feet. Head shaking, he brushed past me. "I'll go fill it."

"Do you need anything else?" I asked, alarmed.

He stopped and turned to look back, lips pursed tight, my question plaguing him like a headache. His eyes did not meet mine.

"Check the front, one more time." His gaze floated to the window, which had lost its orange glow, and he seemed spellbound. He knew as well as I did that the sudden darkness outside meant that they would be here, soon. I left him to his thoughts.

After finishing my rounds, I came back to find David — the container now full — looking out the window again. I walked up to him and tapped on the bullet-proof glass. "They'll definitely come up to the window," I said, "With this cold, though, I doubt anyone will actually try to come inside."

He nodded, silent. "We'll be out of here by 9 o' clock."

The way he said it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. He knew as well as I did that we wouldn't make it to end of the night. There would always be one more night to endure. And another after that, and another, and another.

Still, for the moment, everything looked all right. The place looked ready. Ready for the onslaught. And nobody but the two of us, alone, to ward it off.

David was looking around again, making sure our supplies could withstand the coming storm, the siege that marked the end of day. That final wave of attackers, as though the night itself was summoning reinforcements to batter our defenses. I noted the deep frown on David's face. Wrinkles pinched at the corner of his eyes. He had been stuck here even longer than I had. When I first arrived, he was young — or younger — and happier, too, I think. He used to laugh more anyway. At least, that's the way I remember it.

Looking at him now, at the distant look in his eyes, he seemed to be looking down the long road stretched out before him, dimly perceiving the end point of the road's unraveling — which he called the future — understanding suddenly that it led nowhere at all, just a hole in the ground, the grave.

Shit, maybe the years weren't weighing heavily upon him at all. That was my mind playing tricks on me. Maybe it was me that was being crushed by this endless fighting, this nightly preparation, the endless waiting at dusk. Maybe David had always been this way. Maybe I could only now see it after being stuck here for so long, scrambling to survive, night after night. That god damn Onslaught.

A creak at the door. David's head turned instantly towards it. I saw his neck muscles twitch.

Nothing there. The old place settling, nothing more.

The wind howled past the bullet-proof window — the one I manned. I turned the lock and the widow slid open like a little patio door. It was just large enough for my shoulders and head to squeeze through. I looked outside, felt the gust kick my face, heard the cars somewhere on the highway, their motors humming in unison. My eyes sought out the neon lights again — other restaurants in the distance, real ones, not like ours. Through the window, they looked different. I almost felt that I could reach out and touch them, though they were very far away. But even across a mile or so of darkness the roar of voices — laughing and shouting — carried from the restaurants to my ears. Then, the wind died, and I was alone with the darkness. For a moment, the world was quiet.

But the silence was broken by the sound of something heavy entering the parking lot. A crunch of tires on the pavement, the crushing sound of a motor, rumbling. And another car behind it. And another just behind that one.

I pulled myself back inside and shut the bullet-proof door. I locked it for the time being.

"Everything's ready, I guess," David said, that sad uncertainty permeating his voice the way it always did before the Onslaught.

"What about you?" I asked, half-smiling. "You ready for the rush?"

David flashed a grin, but his eyes betrayed a weariness. He turned his head look out the door, where the parade of cars was flying past the front doors.

"I was born ready, baby," David said, to the cars. "What about you?"

"I wasn't," I said. "But I guess I'll die ready."

David laughed at that, hard. The line of cars was slowing. They always seemed to come together, the customers. Always at the same time, as though they'd planned on meeting here, though they hadn't. Each one came alone. My eyes watched the monitor as the first car in line reached the intercom.

DING. The sound of the bell in my headset.

"Welcome to Paddy's Sandwich Shack. What can I get for you?"

And like that, the Onslaught was upon us.

#short story #flash fiction #creative writing

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sweetsbfreex · 2 years

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hey mama

Summary: Steve never got the chance to say goodbye to his mother, never got the closure. He woke up out of the ice and was no longer a son. You get him a birthday gift for the comfort he never received.

Warnings: talk of parent death/trauma.

Pairings: bf!steve rogers x reader

You work late nights just to keep on the lights/ Mommy got me trainings wheels so i could keep on my bike/ And you would give me anything in this world

It’s a chill night. You, Steve, and Wanda are in the living room, sprawled on the couch as a movie plays.

Steve’s been a bit reserved the past few days and just not himself. Your guess was the Anniversary of the passing of his mother, Sarah Rogers.

Evidently, you never got a chance to meet the sole provider of the Rogers household. But he always talks about her. Always telling you how much she would’ve loved you and the fact that you make the best chocolate chip cookies would’ve won her over.

Dozed off and laid on the couch, his head on your lap is Steve. Your fingers run through his hair and facial features in a delicate manner.

Your eyes are stuck to the screen when you feel him shift. Looking down his eyes are shut tight, nose scrunched just a bit, and his eyebrows furrowed together. Then he mewls silently before his voice drops.

This isn’t anything new, but the whispers of a broken ‘momma’ breaks your heart.

Wanda looks on with a sorrow frown on her face before she lifts up a scarlet, glowing hand towards Steve. And just like that he's quiet. His face relaxes and a small smile adorns his face.

You thank her, sincerely, before descending to place a kiss on his warm cheek.

A MONTH BEFORE HIS BIRTHDAY

You’ve researched and researched. Wikipedia, museums catered to Steve, Wolfram, and hundreds of World War Two resources. Most of them faintly brush on his family and not one obtained a picture of his mom.

At this point, you were desperate. Wanting to give Steve a birthday gift that would procure a sense of home he could take anywhere.

So, here is where Tony and Wanda are rallied up.

Wanda:

Wanda's role is to capture how Sarah Rogers looked and Sounded, by getting into Steve's head.

“Steve,” you call his name while plopping onto his lap without any warning. He adjusts immediately, so his are arms wrapped around you.

“You all right, doll” he kisses your nose.

“I’m okay, are you though? Seems like you’re not getting much sleep lately” you hum, your hand caressing his jaw.

“Yeah” he huffs, “I think ma’s anniversary is…I guess taking a toll on me. More than it usually does.”

“Have you seen Dr. Cho about it? She helped me a lot when my dad passed away.”

“I didn’t think about that, I’ll talk to her about it soon.”

Your fingers clasp his cheeks, making sure he looks at you.

“…and you know I’m here too, if you need someone to talk to,”

“I know, honey, thank you,” he squeezes your hips, locking his plump lips to yours.

You didn’t have to beg Tony as much as you thought you would. You only proposed the idea once and he agreed.

Now, today was the day!

You celebrated Steve first thing in the morning with endless kisses, cuddles, and a stack of his favorite pancakes. Later in the day, Tony’s house (if you could even call it that) is decorated and filled with close friends.

It was the same every year. A combined barbecue and birthday celebration in honor of Captain America/Steve. Steve never complained, he enjoyed getting to spend his birthdays with his found family and best girl.

Steve sat in the middle of the couch, a blue birthday hat on his head. He smiles and thanks everyone for their gifts.

Lastly, you hand the wrapped cube with a red and blue bow on the top.

“Happy Birthday, Stevie,” you beamed. He grabs the box with a thank you and a kiss to your cheek.

Once he’s unwrapped it, he’s met with a silver compact engraved with an antique-like design on the top. He can’t lie that he’s pretty confused on why you would get him blush, or any other makeup product you have.

He peers up at you, a look of puzzlement.

“Open it,” you whisper, urging him on. Your heart picks up its pace. Having no idea how he’ll react to such a personal gift. He opens it, and notices how the lights begin to dim.

In a flash, his mother. Well, from the chest up, his mother is in front of him. Her blond hair is pulled back and pinned with her silver barrette ( like she always wore it.)

She’s a hologram standing in front of him, after the many years he’s gone without her. Without saying goodbye. He can’t believe his eyes are watching his inherited soft baby blues look straight at him, with the familiar warm close-lipped smile on her face.

The birthmark on her cheekbone is even there. She’s so life-like, it’s mind-boggling.

You watch how Steve’s eyes widen and glisten. His breath catches. You also speculate how Bucky grips the couch for support while he gasps at the sight in front of him, as if she was alive.

“Steven...” Her head and eyes move fluently as she looks at him.

His ears start to ring. It’s her voice, exactly how he’s always heard in his dreams. It’s what he always heard as he was being berated for getting into another fight as she patched him up. Yet in the end she smiled telling him how proud she was that he stayed up for what’s right.

The voice he heard bid him well before school after an embarrassing kiss to his sunken cheeks and Bucky’s rosy one.

“Happy Birthday, my angel. You look so dashing, I wish I could squeeze your cheeks so you can whine in dismay.”

Steve chuckles airily, he had told you about that: his mother’s tendency to squeeze his cheeks whenever she saw him.

“You are my pride, my love, and my everything. I am proud of the man you’ve become and always were, all of us are. You choose kindness and integrity over everything and that is what makes you my special boy.

I don’t want you to ever feel alone, because I am always with you, watching over you. In your heart and every step you take. Look around and there I will be. But know I miss you always.”

He feels her warm smile all around him, and can barely see as tears drop every second.

“I love you and James, always.”

It blips away and he feels like he can breathe again. It’s what he’s always wished: to hear her voice one more time without the tragic endings his brain spewed.

The energy in the room shifts. Everyone knows the story of Steve Rogers, so they know this is a big deal for him.

You blink before you feel familiar arms wrap around your lower-waist; the face you love shoves into your neck; and tears on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he chokes out and you squeeze him tighter as you caress the back of his head.

“Of course. It wasn’t only me, Wanda helped with the graphics and Tony built everything.” you smile, kissing his cheek when he pulls away.

He turns to the two, “Thank you so much, you don’t know what this means to me.”

They respond warmly.

You turn to Bucky who has a wispy look on his face, “Bucky, if you’d like, Tony said he would love to make you one.”

Bucky nods in a response, a tight smile on his face. He never got to see his Ma either. Only reading one letter she mailed to him before being captured by Hydra for what felt like eternity.

The fireworks were meant to start any minute. It was a special formula for the veterans, children, and animals that attended. Around Tony’s expansive backyard, everyone was either seated in a chair or blanket on the lush grass.

You and Steve are sharing a blanket. His larger body encases yours as your back meets his chest, and his arms wrap around you tightly. The feel of tender lips against your temple results in quiet giggles.

“You’re. Amazing.” With a kiss in between.

A hand holds your jaw, tilting it up to his. “You really are. I don’t think you know how much that gift means to, to Bucky even. I never thought I'd get to see her face like that ever again. I never even got a chance to say goodbye. You brought me closure…” his voice catches.

“I love you, y/n”

Your eyes gloss at his admission as you smile shyly. Your body shifts as you throw an arm around his neck, “Happy Birthday, Steve” your breath mingles with his as you bring him for a kiss.

Fireworks blaze in the air, coloring the sky.

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daffodilsm · 2 years

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𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 ! ǝǝɹɥʇ ɹǝʇdɐɥɔ

pairing: eddie munson x female reader trigger warnings: mentions of death, grief, ptsd, blood, and gore tags: kas!eddie, canon adjacent, lovers to strangers, strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers again, st5 imagine, ronance, byler summary: your mind struggles with an endless sea of questions and memories of your life with eddie word count: 3044 status: ongoing read on ao3: here ! masterlist: 🦇

Silence fell heavy within the car --- suffocating and draining. A pure emptiness pitted deep within the core of every individual there, leaving such a gnawing ache it took deep, clenched breaths to endure. While the others freed themselves of the claustrophobic trap as soon as possible, you remained inside the car upon instruction. A delegation needed before any further information was shared about the secrets Steve and his friends carried. Your exhaustion so palpable there was no more fight left in you to argue.

Apparently this Mike was the younger brother of Nancy Wheeler. Someone you knew, though granted, not well. Preppy girl, you recalled, who always seemed to get what she wanted. It never bothered you when you shared the close knit halls of Hawkins High ( you even felt pity when Barb had come and gone ) , but again you can’t help but wonder how any of them knew Eddie. While Steve, notably and rather drastically, had a personality makeover the year you both graduated, serious reparations would be needed to ever get them in a good place. Eddie “the freak” Munson wasn’t a self given title. Though he would wear it like a badge of honor when Tommy H. or Jason would get in his face, because Eddie happened to be a little too boisterous that day. But you knew what it did to him, and you knew those who wiped away red stains from his headstone must have called him that behind his back.

Those same people you watched now. Five bodies huddled together in a disarray of theatrical gestures and furrowed expressions. Their voices coming through to you in muffled nothingness. A variety of tone overlaying on top of each other as they all appeared to have something to share and say. When Nancy happened to look over with a pointed indication they were now clearly discussing your presence, you looked away. Still seated in the backseat, Robin’s choppy short strands came into your view from the front passenger side. Somehow you didn’t realize she had not exited the vehicle, and your anger has not dissipated in the slightest towards them.

You couldn’t look out the window, couldn’t look towards the front seat, so you decided to view the black coolness behind shut eyelids. A deep breath harshly whipping through your nose as your composure still needed grasping. There was obviously so much more to the story not yet unfolded to you, and it left you feeling antsy... discombobulated. A concussion from a two hundred and fifty pound linebacker would have felt better than this right now. Your feet kick slightly in torment --- the only word close enough to the way your insides twist and knot when Eddie’s features flash across your eyelids in a hellish drive in theater private showing.

Those eyes, large and round, were not meant to be that color. Red. Haunted and chilling; humanity completely lacking from each iris. You wished to wipe that image away before it could completely taint the other thousand memories of you spent staring into his October eyes. The perfect shade of brown that glowed like sunlight through satin curtains in the early, autumn mornings; reflecting it’s shade upon you in rich, heavy waves of molasses. With every stare Eddie had you frozen, stuck within his gaze and a desire to never leave it. Until finally you had nearly drowned and clawed yourself out, his remnants sticking to you like tar while your words branded him in scars.

“ Drop dead, ---- ”

A crinkle on the already low playing radio.

---- legs, pretty smile hurts my head, gets me wild. dig that steam, giant butt makes me scream i get nuh-nuh nothing but the shakes over you and nothing else could ever do !

Tears fall once more from your tired eyes, but they meet on top two rounded hills of a smile. To cry over a silly Van Halen song such an odd sentiment, but the memory it carried too precious. It occurring only months before your love went to hell.

🥀

“ God, I hate this song. ” You lied, partly. While the tune didn’t match your level of taste ( you finding i’ll wait from the same 1984 album more to your liking ), the expressions that carried upon his theatrical features made your body fill with adrenaline spiked excitement whenever it came on.

“ Oooh, that’s strike one, L/N. ” An unserious grin carrying his words as calloused torn fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling you across and closer to the edge of the bed. The pads of Eddie’s fingertips then crawling up your leg and thigh, lifting it high to his lips as the lyrics continued to spill in addicting melody alongside cupid bow pressings against your skin.

dig those moves, vampire set me loose, get it higher throw my rope, loop-de-loop nice white teeth, betty boop

Each stanza interrupted from a kiss pressed higher and higher, until his body completely came to lay over your own. His arms dropping your leg to prop himself above you in a comfortable hover; shoulder length hair spilling around you in a brown, tousled waterfall. Eddie’s lips millimeters from your own.

“ You want me to kiss you so bad, dontcha? ” The playfulness doesn’t waver from his tone, but it deters towards distraction. Eddie knew damn well you didn’t come over for that, though with the way he was staring; eyes eating you up in desire --- you couldn’t deny the temptation. But Wayne was in the next room over and Eddie needed to pass Ms. O’Donnell’s upcoming exam.

“ I want you to do your homework. ” And with a hand and a light shove, you push him towards the side. Eddie flopping dramatically ( as always ) against the sheets before giving a slight yelp. A dungeon and dragons book lodged between his shoulders blades that he reaches under and pushes to the floor.

“ That, love, is strike two. ” Eddie mewls, hands locked behind his head and feet crossed at the ankles.

“ And when did you give a shit about baseball? ” You roll off the bed, putting distance between the friction that never sizzled between the two of you. He needed to focus, as impossible as a task that was.

“ When I saw all the cute guys in their tight, sexy baseball pants. ” Laughter echoes beneath the continued sounds of Van Halen, Eddie’s hands muffling every other chuckle as he fends off your attacks with the pillow. “ How many of them you think I could get to third base with? ” Another comment met with a pillow. “ Hargrove, definitely! Right? ” Pillow.

“ Be serious, Munson. I want us to graduate together, alright? If you make me walk that stage alone, forgiveness will not come easy. ” Remnants of a laugh from his comments linger on your lips, but your tone and the words behind them carry significant weight.

You were a freshman and Eddie was a sophomore when you stumbled upon one another. One of the first pep rallies of that year and you hid away beneath the bleachers where Eddie had already perched himself with a brown paper bag wrapped tightly in a fist. A shared sip led to a shared story that became an endless amount of memories spawned over years. Memories you wanted to build upon throughout your future.

“ You’ll find more cheer in a graveyard... ” He sarcastically quoted in a silly voice, refusing to take anything seriously. Eddie knew the seriousness of his situation, however he believed that he was a lost cause destined for failure thanks to the likes of his father. He desperately wanted to care for you and make true the desires you held, but he was ( truthfully ) frightened and didn’t see any hope of it ever coming true.

“ Keep silly voices and Tolkien out of this, Eddie ! ” You walk towards the edge of the room, digging through a mostly abandoned backpack. Inside, a complete lack of organization as you de-crumbled papers that were the math homework assigned earlier that day. Stuffing the paper ( hoping they’d flattened ) into the heavy math textbook that was already on his dresser, you tossed it to the empty indention you left upon the sheets next to him. “ Study, now. Or you shall not pass ! ”

Regret immediately fills your senses as whatever focus Eddie could’ve possessed was thrown quickly out the window. Long limbs flipped and crawled off the bed, carrying him throughout the small space between your two frames. One of his hands then pressed against your stomach, guiding you back against and up onto the dresser. While his other took your chin, lifting it up to meet the eagerness of his own.

You were strong willed, but not that strong. Your every inch giving in to the passion Eddie always carried. When his lips move against your neck, a sigh is drawn out --- gasping for breath against the brush of his teeth on your smooth skin.

Though the song is long finished, the tape sizzling out into a heavy silence, Eddie’s rendition of the lyrics breath heavy against your neck. His legs pushing apart your thighs as he settled closer against your frame.

baby, you know that you want it i know what it is you know that you want it, baby when the night is through, will I still be loving you?

It took every ounce of your strength to not let it continue, or else Eddie and walking the stage to receive his long overdue diploma would really just be a fantasy. Your hands press firmly against his chest. The motion raising his eyes to meet your own, amber hues darkened with teenage lust. Pushing him back, Eddie obliged, taking a couple of steps backwards, and your eyes remaining locked as you slowly slid off the dresser.

Without any words, you turn towards the cassette player, popping out the tape and feeling his gaze wash over your every motion. While Eddie had expected you to change it to the other side, disappointment carried through his body as he fell back onto the mattress with a defeated sigh when you instead put the tape back into it’s case and left the cassette player shut and empty.

“ Study, now. ” Your breath revealing you wanted to do everything but.

Eddie’s lips part to reply.

🥀

“ Strike three. ”

Your eyes fling open, completely startled. The response from the memory that played over the song coming from within the car. From Robin. They looking back at you with intense, harboring red tinted views. Your entire body shifts within the seat, eyes blinking rapidly.

As soon as you did, Robin was no longer looking at you. It appeared as if she had never even turned around. Their head instead leaning against the glass plane window, staring out towards the quiet, mundane suburb.

“ What did you just say? ”

Robin shifts, confused by the question before slowly turning around. Their eyes not red, but their natural oceanic blue. Hues shift between you and the rest of the car --- she had no idea what you are talking about.

“ Me? I -- I didn’t say anything. ”

BOM!BOM!BOM!

The sound of a flat palm against the car window startles the both of you. A lump sent immediately down your throat as anxiety and adrenaline rush your blood stream once more. Steve, either not realizing or caring that the shit was just effectively scared out of you and Robin, waves the both of you out of the vehicle. Almost immediately, you both tumble out through the opposite doors, shaking the stiffness out of your limbs as you cross into the yard. The strangeness you just experienced, you chalking up to a tired, exhausted mind riddle by too many questions. And a deep longing for the boy you loved, pushed away, and effectively lost.

Dustin and Mike appeared to have gone off on either side of the yard, their mouths pressed near the walkie-talkies in their hands. Erica stayed near Nancy, arms crossed and shoulders pulled back in an attempt to appear taller. Robin came up next to you, and you realized just as much as you were trying not to look at her; she was also trying not to look at you.

“ Robin, your neck... ” Nancy rushes forward, pulling the small, light blue and silk scarf she was adorning off of her neck. Your eyes just catching two small trickled steams of blood before it’s soaked into the pastel accessory.

“ I... must have gotten bit by a mosquito or something. ” Robin offers an unsure explanation, tilting their head as Nancy began dabbing the two small wounds.

“ Mosquito bites don’t look like this... it must have been a spider. ”

“ We were at the cemetery for hours, it’s entirely possible it happened there. ” Steve stepped towards them, hovering just behind Nancy to get a good look at whatever was going on.

Once the bleeding had seemed to stop, Nancy nonchalantly stuffs the scarf into her pocket; taking you a little by surprise. For a girl who looked like she’d faint at the sight of blood, she appeared to have no problem with it. Just as she did, she took notice of you --- Nancy reaching out a hand in introduction.

“ I’m Nancy. Erica said you dated Eddie? ” Straight to the point, she was. A journalist through and through.

Your eyes hover to her hand to Erica, who shrugged, then to Steve and Robin, who cringed at the realization that Nancy had no idea who you were.

“ Eddie had a girlfriend? ” The tall, figure you knew now as Mike interjected, slicing through awkwardness that came as Nancy’s hand lingered untaken in the air before she finally dropped it to her side. “ He never mentioned that. ”

“ We broke up last summer... ”

“ She’s Lady Hope. ” Dustin quickly joins from the other side of the yard, pushing the antenna of the hand held radio down.

“ Holy shit, you’re Lady Hope? ” It took a brief pause for Mike to connect the name, but the name then quickly resonated in his mind. A clear signal to you that he must’ve been apart of HELLFIRE as well. “ Lady Hope is an absolute legend. Eddie dated Lady Hope? ”

The question just exhausts you further.

“ Who the hell is Lady Hope? ” Nancy inquires, though the question lingers on the tongue of all the older teenagers.

“ She is... Y/N... original member of HELLFIRE... it’s the character she played... you play a character in D&D... ” Dustin drawls out an explanation to blank faces. “ I’ve explained this to you so many times... ” Words directed to Steve who only pouted out his bottom lip in confusion with a shake of his voluptuous locks and a shrug.

Shaking palms meet your eyes, “ I’m sorry --- what... what is this? What are we doing here? We just--- Eddie’s alive and we’re talking about D&D? ”

“ No --- we, we feel it too. It’s just we’ve kind of experienced a lot of... things that are similar so our ability to... bounce back, for a lack of better words, is... ” Robin starts and falls off, realizing too late that if something lacked the words then maybe it was better left unsaid.

“ What does that even mean? Do people just sprout out of the damned ground on the regular for you all? ”

“ No, this is admittedly new — we should really just go inside. Figure things out when the others get here... ” Nancy trails, looking towards Dustin and Mike who were meant to rally the others. More unknown people… how did Eddie get caught up in any of this?

“ Byers crew will be here as soon as they can. Lucas is staying with Max. ”

“ Not surprising. ” Erica retorted to the information Dustin relayed, a brief sadness flitting her features she so desperately wanted to appear adult.

“ El and Hop can’t come until tomorrow — ”

“ Why? ” Steve interjected, a look upon his face that screamed what could be more important than the shit that happened this evening?

“ — and ” Mike continued, drawling out the single syllable “ gave no reason as to why. I tried to get it out of El, but she wouldn’t budge. ” Scrawny shoulders shrug with a shake of midnight colored hair, though it clearly bothered him not having an answer.

“ We should just wait until tomorrow then and get some rest tonight... together. It’s getting late... and I have a bad feeling things are just going to continue to get worse. Who knows how many restful nights we have left... ”

Robin’s comment drives you further over the edge. Cold palms from the cool spring, night digging into your eye sockets. Your brain completely rattled into a new direction every minute you spent around the others. Steve quickly rushed forward, placing hands upon your shoulders.

“ Hey... hey, we know. Believe me, I’ve been trying not to vomit for the past hour. It’s just --- with Hawkins, everything gets worse. ”

Puffy, desolated hues meet a matching pair you realized hid it better than you did. Gazing upon the others, tired face by tired face --- Dustin, Mike, Erica, Nancy, Robin --- the same glimmer of exhaustion lingered behind statuesque features; ghosts hiding among the living.

“ Eddie didn’t die in the earthquake, did he? ”

Steve shakes his head. Dread descends upon you like a cold, winter chill.

“ And it wasn’t an earthquake. ” Dustin says.

“ You’re gonna need to sit down for this. ” Erica sighs, being the first to turn and head towards the Wheeler house while everyone slowly follows her steps --- each of them sharing knowing glances while yours grasped for any kind of sane, logical answer amidst an impossible sounding scenario.

Eddie, what happened to you? What has happened to them?

🦇

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𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 !

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