#abandonment tw

[battle-subway-ghost]

Please just

Promise me that you won't go to alola or anywhere else, please promise you won't leave me behind -( @tinkatinktrain)

I’m not planning on going anywhere Mylah. Where are you right now? Did you go back home or something?

[kalevalakryze]

I Don't Need A Jedi, I Need You

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Ahsoka Pairings: Shin Hati/ Sabine Wren,  Characters: Shin Hati, Sabine Wren, Ahsoka Tano, Baylan Skoll Warnings: Abandonment, Revenge, Rage, Violence, The Dark Side Of The Force, Healing, Force Bond, Blood and Violence Notes: For Whumptober Day  10  This is going to be small, but def something I plan on delving into more Prompt: No. 10: “You said you'd never leave.” Word Count: 3,174 AO3 Link: Here!

They found him three weeks after Shin had been cleared to get up and start moving. Three weeks after she started the journey of rebuilding muscle and herself. Ahsoka and Sabine left her alone, for the most part. The Togruta’s cloak hadn’t left Shin’s shoulders since that first night, waking with it draped around her shoulders. 

Her tunic had been ruined with blood and holes that even she could not repair, so the Jedi’s cloak became all she had to cover her modesty, though Sabine had helped her repair the straps of her bra. The pants she’d been given upon her reluctant rescue were tied to her waist, double knotted to prevent the article from sliding off. Her pauldrons not longer shined where they sat strapped to her shoulders beneath the cloak, smeared with blood (an unfortunate amount her own), with a thin layer of ripped fabric separating metal and skin. 

Shin’s gloves and pauldrons stopped just before her elbows, bare skin and muscle just barely covered by Ahsoka’s cloak where it sat when her arms were down. Sabine helped give her a proper haircut, though there was nothing that could be done to force the brown from their head, leaving the only blonde in her hair for the frayed Padawan brain that settled over her right collarbone, dirty green beads untouched from where they were intricately woven the last time Baylan had helped them dye their hair. 

When they found Baylan, Shin had only found out through Huyang receiving his comm as droid and apprentice worked on fixing her saber, the charge pack wouldn’t hold and the crystal inside was reluctant; like Shin closing herself off from the force and from the kyber had harmed it. Huyang had spent days working with Shin to work with the blade, to reach back into the pool of the force no matter how much it hurt to reconnect.

It had been impossible, up until this point. The blade kept coming out warbly and unstable, before sparking back into its emitter and threatening to spark through the Apprentice’s hands. Huyang hadn’t even had the time to turn towards Shin, to warn that he knew their thoughts, order them to stay behind. She was gone in seconds, leaving only the tail of Ahsoka’s cloak whipping in the wind as she whistled for her Howler. 

Shin rode hard and fast across the Peridean wastes. The Nomads that had allied with the ‘Rebels’ had done what Shin’s own bandits could not; They found Baylan Sköll, and she would be damned if she let him get away. 

“We need not be at odds.” He was trying to worm his way out of the circle the Nomads had him trapped in, trying to talk his way out in an illusion of peace. Shin slipped from the Howler’s back, boots thudding in the dirt as she breezed closer, shoving past an armored being. Baylan was facing away from her, but she could see the way his shoulders tensed.

“You were supposed to return with the Imperial fleet,” His chin rose, yet he still did not look at her, igniting the anger that sat dormand in her veins. 

“I was supposed to die.” They snarled, venom in their tone as their hand wrapped around the hilt of their saber. The crystal resonated with her anger, with the hurt she knew was pouring off in waves, knew her Master could feel it too, the danger of the person he’d created. “I was supposed to die when Thrawn realized you were gone.” 

Baylan’s head turned until Shin could see the hard line of his lips. “You turned against me.” They snarled, finger hovering over the ignition of their saber. Anger flooded their mind, they could strike him down right here, prove that they could choose for themselves, choose this desire for revenge over it all. 

“Only a Sith deals in these absolutes, Shin. We are not Sith,” He sounded tired, like a father explaining to his child that the park was closed and they could not go play until another day.

“I am what you made me!” When their saber ignited, the orange of her saber was bled out, barely visible behind the tangible reality of the pain Shin had been carrying. “This is the end for you, my Master.” 

Near red arced through the air towards Baylan’s head, he’d seemed to be in acceptance of his fate, Shin could finally be free of this pain. She could finally let the past die, she just had to kill it, and maybe then she would be able to breathe again.

A pillar of pink energy stopped her blade, Sabine Wren placing herself between Shin and Baylan, supporting her saber against a beskar gauntlet. “Shin, you need to stop,” The Mandalorian was out of breath, like she’d ran the whole way here, or had worked herself up at the thought of what she knew Shin would do.

“This isn’t you,” Sabine pleaded, trying to get yellowed eyes to look at her, to turn their murderous intent away from the man at her back. 

“You don’t know me,” Shin snarled, teeth bared. Her muscles were still weak, arms shaking as she pushed against Sabine’s saber, moving one foot forwards to attempt to bring her down like they had on Lothal. 

When the connection broke, Shin sidestepped, avoiding interlocking blades with Sabine again; She wasn’t their objective. If the Mandalorian wanted to stop her, then she would have to take Shin’s like. 

Baylan’s gaze was somber, yet he did not probe the bond he once had with the apprentice, did not offer a vocal apology; He felt he knew how this story would play out, that if Shin would commit themselves to killing him, then it was their destiny. “You promised!” Shin hissed, emotion closing at her throat as she swung her blade. Sabine’s use of the force was growing, enough to prevent the blade from doing much else to singe her Master’s robes. 

Throwing her saber to the ground, Shin decided she wanted to feel the life leave his body. He abandoned her, Thrawn left her to die, and the Force was nowhere when she needed it most. She would not kill him as his apprentice, but as the daughter he raised, as the bandit and the monster he’d crafted. 

Her fist cracked against his jaw with a snap of his head to the side. Her second hit went into the unarmored section of his gut, knuckles cracking over his liver and sending him doubling over. The armor at her knee rang when she brought it up to smash into his chin, his blood flying from his mouth in spittle as teeth cracked under the pressure. 

Shin followed him to the ground, knee pressing into his abdomen as her hands secured themselves around his throat. His hands pressed into her wrists, but the armor stopped him from being able to do anything. “You promised me, Master.” A fat tear dropped onto his cheek as Shin’s face reddened. ‘What did I do wrong?”

A large hand settled against Shin’s shoulder as Baylan’s face turned purple. “You need to let him go, Shin,” Ahsoka’s voice washed over her, urging her grip to loosen. Baylan’s breath rushed past his lips in a choked rasp. 

“No.” They vehemently declined like a petulant child. She wanted it to stop hurting- she needed it to stop hurting so bad. She could feel the stubble of rough hair against her fingertips in the holes of her gloves, could feel the warmth of his skin like a beacon of his life, life that she needed to take away. “He deserves it,” 

“Perhaps,” Ahsoka agreed, kneeling in the dirt beside Shin. “But you don’t want to be the one to do this.” The hand on her shoulder was an anchor, as was the warm thumb that pressed past the thick material of her cloak, rising goosebumps to sweat damp skin. “You don’t know that,” They argued, even as they felt the fight abandon them too. “You can’t know that.” 

“But I do, Shin.” Their eyes were still yellow, overpowering the pools of blue and silver, with dark veins spreading across pale skin, but Ahsoka could see that glimmer of hope, that promise that Shin was still good. “You’re in an unimaginable spot right now. And try as I may, I cannot make this decision for you. You have to decide for yourself.”

Ahsoka’s hand begun to raise from her shoulder, willing to leave Baylan’s fate up to the turmoiled blonde. Two hands wrapped around her wrist, keeping her hand in place; the choice was made. 

“Come on,” Ahsoka guided them up, off of Baylan, guiding their sorrowed eyes away from his broken face. They turned back at him one last time. “You said you'd never leave.”  Sabine was picking their saber from the ground, though instead of offering it back to the Apprentice, the weapon was handed to Ahsoka. Shin did not argue as the Togruta clipped it to her belt; wanted nothing to do with the near red blade, the reminder of how much she was failing in all of her teachings. 

Ahsoka walked with Shin all the way to the shuttle, where she dropped bonelessly into a seat in the cockpit, hands in her lap, staring at the flashes of scarred, pale skin that poked through the holes in her gloves. Their fingers clenched and unclenched; Baylan deserved to die, he promised he’d never leave, promised he would always be there, and yet… He left, he left her alone on a planet far from home, on a mission she did not agree with. 

Now she was stranded on the graveyard planet, housed by the enemy, and abandoning all of the teachings she had once been so eager to learn..

Ahsoka settled into the seat across from her much more gracefully. Her hand reached out once more to touch the cool skin just above their gauntlet, bringing their focus back up. “You did good, Shin,” Ahsoka praised, fingertips grazing tensing muscle, easing the stiffness. 

“I was going to kill him,” They argued, though their voice held no fire, their accent thicker than could translate to basic, words slurring as she reverted to a language that had been dead to her for so long. “I wanted to kill him… I want-”

“But you didn’t, because that isn’t who you are.” “Why is everyone so intent on telling me who I am?” They seethed, leather gloves creaking as their hands flexed in anger. 

“Because you need the reminder that you are more than you’re seeing yourself as, right now.” Ahsoka pulled Shin’s saber from her hip, holding it into the chasm between them. Shin stared at the weapon sourly, as if it could be at fault for her pain. “Take your kyber,”

With a sigh, Shin reached for the saber, though it was pulled away before her fingertips could brush cold metal. “With the force, Kurs’kaded.” Sabine spoke up, alerting the Apprentice to her presence, leaning in the open doorway; she hadn’t heard the Mandalorian come in, the force hadn’t given her the brush of whatever it was she’d grown used to with Sabine’s presence. 

“I don’t need the force, and I don’t need you.” They snapped, rising to their feet harshly. She turned away from her saber and faced the door, staring past the faded paint on Sabine’s pauldron as they started for the door. “I can’t let you go,” Sabine’s hand reached out, pressing on Shin’s shoulder, barring her from the exit. “Not like this,”

“It’s none of your concern,” Shin had growled, fingers wrapped around Sabine’s elbow, rearing to flip their positions, to fight her way out if not for the burn of muscle, than for the promise if she got too far, they would kill her.

“What if you don’t come back, Shin?” Sabine wasn’t looking at her, golden eyes focused on the ragged scars from the blade that had ripped her open, had brought her to them after months of isolation from everything. This was enough to give Shin pause, to stop pressing against Sabine’s hand, and to watch as The Mandalorian’s hand shook where it parted Ahsoka’s cloak further across her bare abdomen.

Her fingertips were cool against inflamed scar tissue, still in the painful process of healing without the aid of bacta or any real medical supplies over the alcohol created by the Noti to help keep it sterilized. Shin swallowed thick in her throat. She could feel the Togruta’s eyes on her back, but the glide of Sabine’s fingers along her scar and the way the Mandalorian’s hand pressed against the plate of armor over her abdomen, where Shin knew her own scar sat healed under all the layers.

“What if you leave, and we can’t get to you in time?” There was a vulnerability to Sabine’s voice, a hurt that Shin found she did not like being the cause of on her face. “What if you come back wrong?” 

“Careful, Mandalorian; Someone might start to think you care.” Their voice was raspy, cracking with unidentified emotion as their hand finally dropped from Sabine’s elbow. 

“Seriously?” Sabine scoffed, the jab of her finger into their stomach had them yipping in surprise, stepping back, away from the shock of pain. “All this and you didn’t figure that one out? Are you a di’kut?” The next time Sabine touched her, it was with the palm of her hand into their shoulder, forcing them back into the chair. 

Shin’s head turned to pass a helpless look towards the amused Jedi Master as Sabine’s fingers gripped at her jaw, forcing them to look her in the eye. “Of course I fucking care. I’ve cared since you stabbed me, I’ve cared since Seatos, I’ve always fucking cared.” 

Shin’s gaze was fixed on Sabine’s narrowed eyes, on the twitch of muscle under the collar of her flight suit, and on the smooth furrow of her brows. 

She’s beautiful…

Ahsoka stood and brushed past Sabine; The Apprentice watched in her peripherals as their saber hilt was clasped to Sabine’s belt, before the Jedi was sweeping from the cockpit with the door swooshing shut behind her.

The moment the door shut, Sabine’s lips were pressing against theirs, urging their eyes to close and their hands to move back to the Mandalorian’s elbows as she leaned onto the arm rests of the cockpit’s chair. 

Shin’s heart thudded against her chest, with each thump entwined with the glide of Sabine’s tongue across her lips, the anger faded, the hurt eased, finally offering the sought after reprieve from the hurt. 

Sabine pulled back, breathing hard as their eyes blinked open. “I care, and I’m not leaving.” She whispered in their shared air, hand raising to brush against their cheekbone before she was leaning back, dropping into the chair Ahsoka had once occupied.

“Now take your saber back; we’ll fix it together,” 

Begrudgingly, Shin sighed and raised her hands. Opening back up to the force after months of trying didn’t go as she’d prepared herself. For the first time since Seatos, it felt like coming home again, as she felt the life spark back into her being, reclaiming her space in the cosmic flow of life, interweaving her story back in the threads of the universe. It was overwhelming and it hurt, until she felt the warmth of someone pressing forward with her, someone whose fate was  so so intricately woven with her own existence. When silver eyes opened, Shin caught the look of concentration on Sabine’s face, and the crack of a smile on her lips when her eyes opened and caught Shin staring. 

It took some work to figure out the flow between them, as Shin’s saber was brought to hover between them, pieces unfolded from each other as they slowly worked to expose the wounded Kyber. She’d bled it a lot, had made her crystal hurt the way Baylan had made her hurt, and it was evident in the darkness and the blood of the force threatening to overshadow the orange, but… it wasn’t too late. 

Shin had many dreams healing from her wounds, months back, but in her fever, she could recall the feeling of Ahsoka’s hands brushing through her hair, of delicate fingers smoothing the rough edges of her braid, and the promise of “It’s never too late.” Passed between the silence, a promise that they hadn’t been able to understand.

Now though, with Sabine’s form rising from her seat, Shin watched as the woman’s fingers brushed against her Kyber, the pad of her thumb trailing along the ridge from where she’d snapped it from the peak on Ilum herself. “It’s okay,” Sabine promised, gently; Shin could feel it, could feel her words and her touch as if her and the Kyber were of the same entity, as if, in the red that Sabine was urging away from the crystal, she was easing the darkened blood from her own presence in the force.

Shaking her head, Shin rose, trapping the Kyber between their hands as they interlocked their fingers with Sabine’s. The Mandalorian glanced at her once, before her eyes shut. Her forehead pressed against their joined hands. Shifting their weight between their feet, Shin’s head bowed, fingers squeezing against Sabine’s. “I am one with the force…”

“And the force is with me,” 

When they separated, there was no red to be found in the glowing Kyber, a bright, vivid orange, paler than she’d seen but still bearing the unique coloring, floated between them peacefully, held up by the combined force of both apprentice and padawan. 

“I know you,” Sabine promised, as they worked to reassemble the saber together. “Forever. You hear me?” She grabbed the saber from its stasis, pressing it into Shin’s waiting palm. “You can stab me, you can call me names, and you can walk away right now, but don’t you dare forget; I know you, and I care.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Shin promised, closing the distance and hesitantly moving to rest her forehead against the feisty Mandalorian. 

Sabine’s arms circled their neck, noses bumping together as she leaned up on her toes, fingers carding through the short, scruffy hair on the back of their head. “Better… say it again,” 

Rolling their eyes, Shin pressed forward to shut her up, pressing their lips together with little fanfare, hands moving to rest on Sabine’s sides, thumb pressing into the space between beskar and flightsuit to brush against the fabric over her scar. 

Baylan Skoll would go on to become their prisoner, but Shin would not give him the glory of a reaction, or a response when, the next time they visited, her padawan braid was gone, cut with care by the Togruta who held out her hand in kindness when he had left. 

She wasn’t a Jedi and she wasn’t a sith; She was just Shin Hati, and Sabine was just Sabine; together and individually, they were both Enough, and that was good enough.

[bullsh1tterz]

@downs1de : : REPLIED.

i want to hear about his childhood

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 #𝟒: 𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌'𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃.

Do bear in mind that any and all of what I say here is my own thoughts on what my Adam's childhood was like. The source material doesn't cover much besides the fact that he's got a brother - at least as far as I'm aware. These are scattered and randomized bullet points detailing aspects of that childhood. Not all of them relate to each other.

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: Abandonment, child neglect, gambling && child abuse.

Adam doesn't remember much of his mother. She left when he was four, never looked back and he never saw significance in seeking her out. Still, he's managed to carry the abandonment issues she's given him into adulthood.

Plenty of his anger comes from disappointment after disappointment in his father. The man was never home. And it's not like he was some workaholic rich bitch so they'd at least be well-off, no. He was just never interested in taking care of him or his brother. He was often out drinking, betting on the horses or trying to hit on women who weren't interested in him.

Adam's childhood was, for all intents and purposes, empty. His older brother, Benjamin, was his primary care-taker, but it's not like a teenager's a good enough substitute for a parental figure. Especially one who'd have clearly rathered they be with their mother, often gushing to Adam about what she was like and telling him how the only thing their dad loves is his work. Benjamin was generally less nosy and observant than Adam, who figured out their father's constant claims to have been working late were nothing short of bogus when he got too suspicious and followed him around.

He was especially good at playing hide and seek. He knew where to hide whenever specific people were the seekers and often found it easy to track his friends down.

He was lower middle-class for the first half of his childhood and slowly devolved to the lower class the more his father splurged on nonsense.

Adam wasn't the worst at making friends, but he wasn't the best, either. He still had that tongue of his when he was younger, granted everything coming out of it was less crude at the time. He was open and honest but that very honesty cost him many a dramatically-inclined friendship. He never quite gave up on meeting new people until well into his senior year, though.

Adam wasn't great at school, but he wasn't completely terrible either. He didn't know jack about mathematics and found literature pretentious due to his teachers, but art, physical education and history were some of his favorite classes. He especially enjoyed working on projects and little "research papers" for school.

The biggest stifle - or more like the most traumatizing aspect - of Adam's childhood was his grandfather, who didn't take to Adam's more rebellious nature. Unlike his Father, Adam's grandfather was not neglectful: he was outright abusive. Whenever his father would drop him off at his place, Adam would do his best not to interact with the man or to cater to his temper. Still, old, repressed and clearly terrible-natured, Adam's grandfather would find something - anything - to be mad at him or Benjamin for and then proceed to "discipline" them. Benjamin did not get off scott-free, but, being older, he did not have to go to their grandfather's house as much as Adam would. Adam does not like talking about this for obvious reasons, and has since suppressed any and all of his feelings regarding his grandfather - as opposed to his father, whom he'll happily curse out and talk shit about if asked by someone he trusts.

Benjamin, even though taking care of Adam often in the sense that he fed him and taught him how to do most things, always kept a certain distance between him and his younger brother. Adam resembled their mother more - even used to speak a little in her cadence, so Benjamin didn't like the reminder and often felt jealous. Adam didn't understand that jealousy because all he felt towards his mother as he grew was resentment, but he often ventured to soothe Benjamin by flattering him.

[hmshermitcraft]

Pearl definitely didn’t have a great childhood. Considering the fact her parents abandoned her all alone while she was asleep as a child so she decided to grow up alone so she would never have to suffer the feelings of being abandoned again.Until she of course,met the hermits.It was really just supposed to be a quick exchange but things happen yknow? So she inevitably grew a relationship with all of them.

That wasn’t the bad thing of course,the bad thing is that because of her relationship with them she was obviously terrified to lose them.So in return she wouldn’t sleep.She thought if she did they would leave while she was vulnerable and unaware,just like her parents did.She didn’t think it was a bad idea, she didn’t even think anyone would notice! That was until she started losing balance,she always looked out of it,she wasn’t really talking properly,etc.

The others were obviously worried they couldn’t really find out what was wrong with her until someone caught her up working late at night,probably to distract herself.So one night they went to her base and tried to put her to bed.It ended up being a very emotional but somehow well night.Once she realized they were trying to put her to sleep she tried protesting and it didn’t take long for her to burst into tears.It took a while but calmed down a bit and then told them about what happened when she was younger, and how she was scared she would lose them.

They then all hugged and reassured her that they would never leave her,because she was just as important as everyone else on the server is, even if past experiences made it hard to remember that. They all stayed at her base and played games and watched movies before heading to bed,and when they did head to bed they made sure to be right by Pearl’s side. It took a couple of minutes,but Pearl did eventually fall asleep. And when she woke up for the first time in a while to see them all still being there, she burst into tears again, but this time they were very,very happy ones.

It always felt... Silly to her. She's not the only hermit who's experienced tragedy and trauma in her life, but they've all gotten over it (they haven't, as she eventually realises.)

It was hard to trust them all encouraging her to sleep. Even as hermits fell asleep around her - Bdubs passing out as soon as he hit the pillow, hogging an entire blanket, Impulse with his arm over Pearl and snoring, Mumbo somehow looking perfectly comfortable despite both Grian and Scar on top of him - she felt like it was just a matter of time. She'd close her eyes and they'd all be gone.

She's never been happier to be proven wrong. Not confident enough to go back to sleep, but she can spend the morning watching her sleepy hermits instead.

[aveimperatcr]

As this holiday of love comes to a close, the Emperor couldn't help but silently fidget.

... Would he need to return to the Warp to continue his endless battle against the Ruinous Powers? Would he need to return to the dark... alone?

[dreamdstate]

24, non-binary, he/they 𐫱 › hey, isn’t that enzo becker? i’ve heard that they’ve lived in bearhold for twenty two years. rumor has it that they can be rather offputting and timid, but hey, that’s just in their nature as a werewolf. they totally make up for it by being overtly empathetic and perceptive. if you’re looking for them, you can probably find them at their work as a computer technician at great bear library.

full name — enzo josiah bemis - becker.

nickname(s) — ?

date of birth & age — september 20th -– 24.

gender / pronouns — non - binary, he/they.

sexuality — bisexual.

species — werewolf without a pack. aha, unless--

occupation — computer technician at great bear library, otherwise living life as gods fucked up little ken doll.

notable features — various scars – in particular, a bruise looking scar on left knee, scar on face from the accident, in the middle of his forehead.

ABANDONMENT & FOSTER CARE TW born  in  god  knows  where,  united  states,  enzo  has  never  felt  like  he’s  belonged  -----  here,  there,  or  anywhere.  a  constant  search  for  something  more  than  himself,  there  was  never  any  answers  he  could  find,  himself.  born  to  two  anonymous  parents  who  were  much  too  young  to  have  a  child,  enzo  was  found  in  the  typical  fire  station  baby  in  a  basket  kind  of  way.  burnt  to  a  crisp  birth  certificate,  barely  making  out  his  first  name  attached  and  just  about  ready  to  crumble,  he  was  placed  into  the  foster  system  after  a  few  week  stay  with  a  firefighter  family. 

FOSTER CARE & DEATH TW was  placed  with  a  family  for  a  few  months,  then  another,  then  the  becker’s  (  hi  mom!  )  and  he  never  left  after  that.  was  eventually  adopted  by  them  when  he  reached  pre  -  school  age.  this  was  around  the  same  time,  coincidentally,  that  damien  had  passed.  it  was  then  when  he  began  to  shy  away  –  hiding  out  by  himself,  withdrawing  from  what  few  preschool  friends  he  had,  keeping  to  himself.  always  the  meek  kid,  it’s  not  like  they  tried  very  hard  to  break  out  of  their  shell.  enzo  knows  that  this  ever  -  lasting  loneliness  is  probably  his  fault.

schoolyard  blues  hit  him  hard.  spends  most  recesses  inside,  in  the  library,  using  the  shitty  computers  to  play  games  or  just  attempt  to  bypass  the  schools  system  and  google  random  things.  people  interested  him,  but  the  world  did  moreso.  threw  himself  into  his  hobbies  and  interests.  ever  the  collector,  there  was  many,  often  encouraged  by  his  family,  to  continue  to  persue  literally  whatever  he  wanted.  and  so  he  did:  room  filled  with  random  things.  books,  research  that  he  still  doesn’t  quite  get,  eventually  fell  in  love  with  computers  and  all  things  electronics.  started  by  taking  them  apart,  putting  them  back  together,  going  to  junk  yards  and  finding  random  things  and  mashing  them  together  and  failing.  his  own  frakenstein  computer. 

kept  to  himself.  involved  himself  in  the  nerdish  things,  which  also  didn’t  help  him  gain  many  friends,  but  he  was  actively  with  people  and  that’s  all  that  mattered.  each  full  moon  shift  changed  his  mindset  bit  by  bit  –  constantly  scared  of  his  own  self,  afraid  of  hurting  his  family,  became  slightly  more  of  a  reclusive  than  he  had  been  previously,  which  is  honestly  quite  impressive  for  someone  like  enzo.  time  grows  longer,  enzo  grows  larger,  and  the  fear  subsides,  if  only  a  little.  a  bit  more  self  trusting  and  confident  in  himself.  full  moons  aren’t  quite  as  scary,  though  in  a  house  where  you’re  the  only  one  ..  it’s  still  a  bit  isolating.  they  try,  and  it’s  kind  and  helpful  and  he  appreciates  it,  but  they  can  only  relate  so  much. 

graduates  high  school,  doesn’t  go  to  college.  uncertainty  in  himself  about  who  is  he  and  what  they  want  to  do,  enzo  does  what  they  do  best:  fuck  around  with  technology  until  make  it  work,  or  fuck  it  all  up.  it’s  working  so  far  –  working  at  the  library  is  peaceful  except  the  solid  two  hours  where  they  have  those  mommy  &  me  classes,  of  which  he  puts  on  his  headphones  and  tries  not  to  have  his  eyes  twitch.  occasionally  crafts  websites  for  those  who  ask,  does  bug  bounties  when  he’s  bored.  tries  not  to  be  too  much  of  a  reclusive  —  trying  to  make  friends.  please  god  please.  maybe  going  to  college?  who  knows.  not  enzo.

now playing — burial  plot  (  dayseeker  )  ,  night  vision  (  drives  the  common  man  )  ,  how  big  is  your  brain?  (super  american  )  ,  bottle  rocket  (  briston  maroney  )  ,  thinkingoutloud  (  kenny  hoopla  )  . 

last watched — none. movie night ???

inspo — tbd.

MY  DREAMS  HAVE  BEEN  SO  FUCKED,  I  DON’T  KNOW  WHAT  IT  MEANS   [   … 

highly  empathetic  due  to  his  lonely  nature,  tries  to  see  the  best  of  people  even  when  he  so  badly  wants  to  be  a  pessimist.  so  very  kind,  but  extremely  skittish.  approach   like   a   feral   kitten   you   found   on   the   side   of   the   highway   at   3   am   while   interstate   traveling.   occasional   shakes   of   a   treat   bag   are   welcome   and   encouraged. 

if  he  likes  you,  you’ll  know  –  the  jokes  and  quips  he  keeps  locked  up  come  out,  and  he’ll  try  to  get  your  references  and  jokes  (  key  word  on  try:  he’s  trying!  )  .  will  blab  a  bit  about  his  favorite  things  and  do  not  get  his  ass  started  on  computers  and  technologies.   on  the  other  hand,  you’ll  also  know  if  he  doesn’t  like  you.  constant  death  stare  and  acting  like  he  doesn’t  hear  you  when  you’re  talking.  playing  the  silent  game  and  he’ll  win  every  time.  neutrual,  you’re  fine.  he’ll  only  staere  a  little  bit  when  he  doesn’t  know  what  to  say,  which  is  always. 

extreme  mama’s  boy  —  after  damien  passed,  he  kind  of  clung  to  pearl  like  a  lifeline.  and  she  was.  his  biggest  cheerleader  and  confidant.  often  feels  like  he’s  worrying  her,  like  he’s  doing  something  wrong  and  not  being  like  his  sister  …  but  he’s  trying  his  best  to  make  her  proud. 

so  very  lonely  by  his  own  design.  but  is  trying  to  stop  doing  this.  blah  blah  blah  something  about  watching  life  go  by  and  see  all  these  people  having  fun  while  he’s  like  squidward  staring  out  the  window.  get  really,  buddy,  and  put  the  mouse  down.  very  much  socially  challenged.  it  used  to  be  a  lot  worse  -  hiding  behind  his  sister  and  mother  in  public  settings,  whereas  now  if  you  catch  him  off  guard,  he’ll  likely  take  a  minute  for  his  brain  to  catch  up,  then  reply  with  only  a  few  words.  does  not  like  to  be  ambushed  or  bombarded.  crowds  freak  him  out,  and  small  talk  gives  him  hives. 

scared  of  his  own  strength,  and  keeps  a  low  profile  —  despite  his  desperate  wanting  for  friends  and  more  people  to  connect  with,  he’s  often  afraid  he’ll  be  the  reason  something  bad  happens  to  them.  a  double  edged  sword.  he  doesn’t  want  to  face  the  blade  the  other  way,  so  he’ll  point  it  at  himself  instead. 

scared.  always  scared.  extremely  stubborn,  and  can  get  lost  in  his  own  head  almost  all  the  time.  please  ensure  he  is  paying  attention  before  you  say  anything  important. 

often  can  be  found  wearing  funny  tshirts  or  big  jackets.  treats  them  as  security  blankets,  like  he’ll  be  able  to  hide  in  them.  he  can,  but  it’s  the  principal  of  it.  has  worn  the  same  thing  for  years,  and  will  continue  until  they’re  simply  a  piece  of  fabric  barely  stitched  together.  tends  to  not  spend  money  on  himself  and  instead  his  family  or  friends.  sentimental  object  holder. 

DEATH  TW         /      a  listener,  not  a  talker.  didn’t  talk  for  almost  a  year  and  a  half  after  damien’s  death  –  being  in  the  house  at  the  time  was  traumatizing,  and  often  near  the  anniversary  and  holidays,  shuts  down  in  a  similar  manner.  grief  does  not  bode  well  during  full  moons,  and  enzo  can  often  be  found  in  his  room  and  away  from  others  during  this.  mildly  concerning,  yes,  but  as  a  child  it  often  lead  to  many  many  meltdowns  –  no  handle  on  his  emotions  and  how  to  keep  himself  in  check.  it’s  gotten  a  lot  better,  but  he’s  not  perfect. 

will  take  any  kind  of  electronic  device  apart  and  out  it  back  together.

includes  but  not  limited  to:  any  apple  product,  any  microsoft  project,  any  nintendeo  product,  walkie  talkies,  phones,  laptops,  mp3  players,  keyboards,  roku’s,  game  controllers,  wiis,  car  radios,  car  steering  wheels,  tablets,  desktops,  radios  /  stereos,  and  the  occasional  hand  held  vaccum.

carries  around  a  tablet  they  stole.  from  who?  aha,  well--  the  screen  is  cracked  to  shit,  and  it  hardly  works,  but  he  loves  it  and  has  had  it  for  a  solid  5+  years.  his  fines  must  be  crazy  on  that  thing.   carries  it  with  him  everywhere.  has  multiple  portable  batteries  just  in  case  there’s  no  way  to  charge  it.  loves  that  thing  like  it’s  a  real  person  and  it  is  like,  unironically  his  best  friend. 

obsessed  with  many  things  actually:  postcards,  pokemon  cards,  limited  edition  coca  cola  bottles,  movies  nobody  else  has  ever  heard  of,  star  trek,  old  sitcoms  from  the  70’s,  wolf  biology,  wolves  in  general,  national  parks,  and  also  cats  for  some  reason. 

obsessed  with  names.  probably  has  a  list  of  his  favorites  in  a  google  document  or  notebook  with  meanings  /  origins  /  etc. obsessed  with  notebooks.  collects  them.  has  some  from  2000’s  he’s  stolen  from  his  mother,  tore  out  all  the  pages  that  had  writing  on  them.  keeps  them  blank.  for  what?  he  doesn’t  know.

takes  things  maybe  a  little  too  literally.  does  not  fully  understand  sarcasm,  thinks  it’s  a  waste  of  time  and  when  he  tries  it,  it  usually  doesn’t  make  sense  or  falls  super  flat,  which  makes  it  funny. 

distrusts  the  government  and  social  media  and  all  that,  but  uses  it  anyways.  likes  to  be  in  with  the  kids  and  what  not.  loves  video  games  despite  this.  plays  minecraft  on  peaceful  and  does  NOT  go  under  ground.  he  likes  to  farm. 

maladaptive  daydreams.  a  lot.  it’s  a  bit  of  a  bad  habit,  now,  and  he  doesn’t  quite  know  how  to  stop  —  tries  to  play  it  off  to  little  avail  because  dude  doesn’t  have  a  cool  bone  in  his  body. 

KEY PLAYERS : WANTED.

friends.  dear  god  get  this  guy  something!!!!  jsut  kidding.  but  i  think  it’d  be  fun  to  explore  actual  genuine  friendships  ..  maybe  they  went  to  school  together?  maybe  theyre  neighbors?   maybe  they’re  new  and  town  and  want  to  take  him  as  their  pet  dog?  idk.  the  worlds  our  oyster. 

older  sibling  /  parental  figures.  i  think  this  is  also  rlly  fun  bc  he  is  a  very  concerning  individual  so  unfortunately  he  attracts  the  kind  adults  around.  maybe  knows  his  sister  and  mom?  family  friends  he’s  known  since  bebehood?  ..  a  sweet  kid  but  god  damn  it’s  like  watching  paint  dry  with  you  boy.  would  probably  try  to  cause  a  ruckus  in  their  home,  however.  watch  your  dvd  players  closely. 

mutual  dislike.  perhaps  something  happened  and  they’re  just  like  >.>  at  each  other?  it  takes  a  lot  for  enzo  to  actively  dislike  someone  and  try  to  bore  holes  into  their  head  by  staring  so  this  would  be  fun.

good  /  bad  influences.  those  people  who  are  like  brother  ..  my  friend..  you  need  to  be  at  the  club.  and  try  to  get  him  there.  devil  and  angels  on  their  shoulders,  if  you  will.  people  who  try  to  get  him  out  of  their  shell  either  way. 

grump  x  sunshine  dynamic  is  my  fave.  so  hello.

one  sided  crush  wld  be  cutesy  ..  like  boy  get  real.

i  think  perhaps  his  biological  parents  would  be  interesting  ..  this  would  need  some  heavy  plotting  but  i  love  long  lost  family  plots.  hello.  siblings,  even.

[macaric]

alberto rosende,  24,  cis male,  he/him   𐫱     ›   hey, isn’t that ( carson sanderson )? i’ve heard that they’ve lived in bearhold for ( 24 years ), and that they ( do ) know about bearhold’s supernatural presence. rumor has it that they can be rather ( troubled ) and ( paranoid ), but hey, that’s just in their nature as a ( black sheep ). they totally make up for it by being ( caring ) and ( hard working ). if you’re looking for them, you can probably find them at their work as a(n) ( fire fighter ) at ( bearhold fire department ).

BASICS

full name : carson sanderson

nicknames : car, cars

age : 24 ( 24 physically )

birthday/zodiac : december 13th / saggitarious

gender/pronouns : cis man / he/him

sexual orientation : pansexual

species : human

occupation : college student, fire department volunteer, part time worker at juri’s flowershop

family : mr. sanderson (adoptive father) , mrs. sanderson (adoptive mother), isaiah sanderson (older brother - deceased), _____ sanderson (younger sister - wc)

languages : english, asl, broken spanish

PERSONALITY

bad habits … . retreating into where he feels comfortable when overwhelmed, denying help from others

hobbies … . finding out the truth behind things, researching, puzzles

fears … . always being labeled as his brother’s killer

alignment : true neutral

BEHIND THE MASK

face claim … . alberto rosende

height … . 5'10"

hair color … . brown

eye color … . green

scars … . physically? none

ABOUT

born just outside of bearhold, his life started off difficult. his mother was a teenage mother who couldn't handle being a single mother so, at the age of 3, she dropped him off in front of a foster home and left - never to return.

he did, though, find himself adopted rather fast and his home life was relatively normal. his early years were relatively normal, though. he fought with his older brother, he had his angsty teenage phase that he just couldn’t seem to grow out of, and he was barely managing to make it through high school - wanting to focus on his career rather then school .

all pretty normal, right? well that was until he came to find his brother dead on the ground, being found by his parents who subsequently called the cops on him

the police suspected him, even arresting him, and his parents? they believed the cops over their own son. so, managing to post bail, he fought like hell to prove his innocence. and he finally did, but the damage was done

all alone, with a bad rep to his name and no family by his side, he found himself alone in the world with no hope. no job seemed to want him and the people he once considered his closest friends wanted nothing to do with a supposed criminal, even if he was proven innocent

and he thought that it was over for him, that there was no hope or light at the end of the tunnel. that was until he discovered the fire department was hiring. joining the team, he initially was a loner, assuming no one would want to be associated with a supposed criminal just like everyone else

though, he was surprised to find that his coworkers actually wanted him to be a part of the gang - becoming like his family in ways he couldn't describe. and maybe it was him blinded by the fact that he was craving genuine love but he's come to be incredibly protective of those around him, especially his fellow firefighters

even after 7 years he's still coming to terms with the fact that he was practically abandoned by a family that he thought loved him and being labeled as a killer but he's in a lot better headspace now then he had been originally

[daydrcamings]

@fcdcdmcmories - ❝ learn to throw your voice! ❞

riley's brows raised a little at the other's words. "god, you sound like my dad." she taunted. it had been so long since she'd seen him. since she'd had issues with girls leaving her out of things at school. "how exactly do you go about learning how to... throw your voice?" riley questioned with a cock of her head. "i've always been... kinda quiet but ending up here alone at twelve? kinda made that worse. i fully believed my family had like abandoned me or something. growing up in care probably should've toughened me up but... i just kept to myself."

[dark-type-appreciator]

△ are you scared of people leaving you

[10/10]

...yeah, yeah i um, its never easy

[stigmvtas]

TOWN RECORDS — HETVIK MODI.

( DEV PATEL. THIRTY FIVE. NONBINARY. THEY/THEM. ) since you aren’t aware of them yet… that’s HETVIK “HEDWIG” MODI wandering around in hollow creek! from what i know they’ve lived in hollow creek for TWENTY NINE YEARS (ON AND OFF). i’m also aware of the fact that they work as a MUSICIAN (SOMETIMES) & BOOKSTORE OWNER in town! but if you were to ask me, what i see when i think about them are: INKY CURLS PUSHED BACK BY SOOT - STAINED HANDS; REGRET IN THE FORM OF A STONE PUSHED UPHILL, EVERY NERVE ON FIRE; THE CHOPPY HUM OF A MOTORCYCLE IN NEED OF REPAIR, KNOWING IT’LL BE IT’S LAST; ELECTRIC NOTES BREAKING THROUGH INTERFERENCE, SPARKS SHOOTING OUT OF EYES; AND A LIMP CIGARETTE PUSHED BETWEEN LIPS, BLOOD STILL GLEAMING AGAINST TEETH AND TONGUE. if anything, i feel like they could be INCANDESCENT AND UNINHIBITED & SARDONIC AND MERCURIAL. it’s really weird, though… because they seem to be hiding something that no one else knows. but i sure do! and that is CLOSED FILE.. REDACTED. wild, huh? i know. they’re hoping no one will ever find out. and the very last thing that i’d say about them is that they’re mainly known to be THE OMEN. just keep a lookout! who knows if they’re putting on a facade! ( JAMES, 25, EST, THEY/THEM. )

containing themes of... drugs ( brief mention ), parental abandonment, implied homophobia ( minor, brief mention ), familial death, addiction.

profile.

full name — hetvik bulsara modi.

nickname(s) — vik; hedwig ( band alias / used more often than not ).

place of birth — flushing, queens, new york.

date of birth & age — january 27th, 1989. thirty5.

gender / pronouns — nonbinary ( agender ), they/them.

sexuality — bisexual.

occupation — bookstore owner of the labyrinth. front man and lead guitarist of subterfuge.

astrology — aquarius sun, libra moon, scorpio rising.

residence — a small apartment directly above the bookstore; all brick walls and permanent chill. never kept clean.

interests — secondhand leather and hand - rolled cigarettes. noises; doesn't necessarily have to be music. just noise. their motorcycle that's about to kick the dust, but they'll ride it to its' grave. a good book. punk. metal. ska on occasion. playing guitar, fucking around with drums. halloween time, particularly scaring the ever - loving fuck out of people. combat boots. wool sweaters. fingerless gloves. the warmth of fire. cheap thrills, cheaper fucks. silver jewelry. cats, stray dogs; animals, in general. foliage over flowers. black coffee. fresh pastries. cooking, once in a while; only when nostalgic. an ice cold beer. their bandmates ( sometimes ).

aversions — the "man"'; authority in general. the hard shit; learned it the hard way. writing songs when they don't want to. their bandmates ( sometimes ). people with a lack in media literacy; passionless people. long - term relationships. complete and utter silence. polyester. plastic containers ( glass is better ). communicating readily and easily. vulnerability. waking up before noon. being confronted with the past. not living in the present. worrying about the future. living, to a degree. people who eat inside the bookstore and then touch all the books, like, hello? direct sunlight. their family.

quirks — rolls their own cigarettes & joints. makes their own beer but keeps having to start over the process due to "mishaps". picks up any stray animal they see and brings it home. up at ungodly hours playing music. bashes mailboxes for fun. self - sabotages their relationships.

currently playing — you've seen the butcher by deftones.

notable features — long, raven - feathered hair that they desperately need to cut, but never do. a strong nose, overgrown facial hair that they do maintain despite what's said otherwise.

general disposition — overall rugged. tired but restless, alight.

character study — billy butcher ( the boys ), tyler durden ( fight club ), simon / john q ( dinner in america ).

public history.

hetvik's mother always told them they were born angry; born with rage, just like their father. they were also told that they were born sweet; kind, despite the anger. a begrudging kindness, just like their mother. they're never sure if that's a good thing, either of it; to be angry, yet kind. to be kind, yet angry; to let either of them consume them at a moment's notice.

abandonment; the older they grew, however; the more they knew they wanted to be less of their father. his anger took the form of arrogance, of grandeur - of pretending he had more than they did, of pretending he was above the life they led. their father walked out when hetvik was only five; by six, their mother had packed them and their sister up and moved back to massachusetts, back with her parents.

the house was small, cramped; overfilled with six mouths to feed, their only income from their mother's work and their grandparent's bookstore - enough to pay rent on the building, but not much for anything else. hetvik knew then, in their young age, that they wanted to give their family the life they deserved.

they weren't good in school; academically smart, but no attention span to maintain the grades. they were too aggressive in sports, too competitive; too passionate for debate, body stretching across podium and dashing against stage to wrestle their opponent to the ground. the only thing that ever stuck with hetvik was music. it stuck to them like honey, like oil; sometimes it soothed the anger beneath their skin, and sometimes it fueled it. when hedwig and the angry inch released, a twelve year old hetvik was changed.

implied homophobia; music became everything to them. it was their form of expression, their communication, their social life, and later their income. they carried their guitar no matter where they went; experimented with their looks, their sound - changed a million ways everyday. in their mid - teens, hetvik's father came to their home in hollow creek. was on the verge of begging for their mother back; and then sauntered in hetvik, in six inch platforms and hair teased to the nine's ( their glam metal era ). after a few choice words and a minor brawl; their father left for good.

hetvik left after graduation; they moved back to new york city, all on their own - nothing but a suitcase and their guitar. promised their family that they'd be back when they were famous, when they could give them everything they ever wanted.

being a queer artist in new york city is like a fork found in the kitchen, but hetvik finds their crowd, their people. they solidify their look, their sound; something punk, something metal, something innately queer - drag makeup for every performance, skirts and combat boots, defiance in their every action. their underground shows start mosh pits and riots; and running from the authorities become a day - to - day ritual. eventually, subterfuge - their band - catches the eye of a small label, and they sign onto it. subterfuge immediately catches an audience; their single dominates the alternative charts. their album flies off the shelves; and before hetvik - now hedwig by most people - turns twenty five, they're on tour across the country.

death mention; half of everything hedwig makes goes directly to their family; their mom can afford a larger house, can afford to hire the caretakers she needs for her parents. their sister can go to college wherever she wants, can be whoever she wants. the first five years of subterfuge's success are the most important; but after then - the label, steadily becoming more mainstream - wants to change their image, their sound. hedwig fights against it; their bandmates either drop, or are replaced, or die. they're seen arguing in public; tabloids of them being escorted out of clubs in handcuffs, screaming at the paparazzi.

it's recommended that they take a break. hedwig resists; they don't want to give up on subterfuge, but the band's unrecognizable. it isn't them - it isn't what they had fought for, what they crafted with their own two, bloodied hands. they don't want their label to own subterfuge. so they fight their label, break their contract; lose a bunch of money in the process, but they free themselves. subterfuge becomes independent again. they commit to one last tour, one they fund themselves, spanning across the country and hitting all the venues from their first ever tour, before they decide to go on a hiatus. to regain a sense of themselves, to figure out the direction they want to go, and not because of anyone else's influence. so hedwig goes home, with the promise to write a new song.

familial death; hedwig's only been back in hollow creek for a number of months; but a lot's happened since they've been gone, and since they've returned. their grandparents passed away, leaving hedwig the one to inherit the bookstore. their sister's engaged, to someone hedwig's never even met before. their mother's trying to be happy for them; but they can see the worry increasing in her eyes every time they leave late in the evening, and don't come back until the next one.

details.

hedwig doesn't feel like an old rockstar, or particularly famous despite subterfuge's success. they're most recognizable for their drag looks, something akin to dr. frank - n - furter. less - so out of drag, though it doesn't help much. they're uncomfortable with being confronted in public, despite their confrontational personality. a lot of bark, and a lot of bite.

addiction; they struggled a lot with addiction in their 20's, and only now are they steadily managing it. a lot of na meetings, a hard - ass sponsor. their family is their support system, and the guilt of it keeps hedwig as far away from them as possible.

brash and irrational at times; hedwig's never been able to keep a lid over their emotions, or their mouth shut, or an ounce of impulse control. talks before thinking, and acts on a whim often enough for it to be a problem. they've only calmed down a little since they're been back in hollow creek, but they can still come off as abrasive.

can often be found in the labyrinth, organizing the inventory with over - the - ear headphones on, with music so loud it's heard from across the store. they're snappish at worst, and genuinely helpful at best. they try not to tarnish the reputation of their grandparents' shop, if only out of respect.

cares a lot about their friends and family, but finds it hard to show it outside of monetary values. despite being a lyricist, hedwig can barely find the words they want to say to them. is better with actions, in that regard.

self - sabotaging in nearly all of their relationships; it's hard for hedwig to keep something long - term, whether they're friendships or partnerships. they burn bridges quick, and get nervous when they feel trapped. they're afraid of being like their father, too egotistical to realize the harm they cause.

their family has a decent size of property at the top of the hill thanks to hedwig's success, but they've taken the storage space above the bookstore and turned it into an apartment for their own use. it's small, studio - like, but it gets the job done.

extroverted, and prefers being around people despite their seemingly anti - social nature; it's just hard to understand hedwig if they're not "like them".

a vandal, and they can't help it. causing minor destruction is both a coping mechanism and a bad habit. what they don't tell people, is that they try to balance it out; worried that karma will wreck more havoc onto their life if they don't. with every mailbox beaten with a baseball bat, is a tree planted, or some shit. it's a case - by - case basis, really. well - hedwig tries. they're trying to be good.

a punk with? kind of? a heart of gold? but not really. trying to be a better person, but their attitude just won't allow it. they're softer depending on the person, on whether they think they'll cry if they raise their voice. they're both extremely self aware, and completely oblivious. still trying to figure things out. what they want, what they need.

[battle-subway-ghost]

Did… did kura abandon his not-child?

He abandoned a teenager that he was essentially fucking mentoring, is what he did.

What better way to crush a young trainer's dreams than, I don't know, fucking leaving with barely a single word?

[ferals-random-reblogs]

it does not matter

how kindly you treat us

or how welcoming

you try to be

or how many times

you remind us you love us

there will always be a small child

that cries and begs

"please come back

don't leave me alone

i can't do this by myself

please come back and love me"

[tabithaxking]

concept of home and family.

Growing up, Tabitha didn't really have a home. Her mother would move them from place to place whenever shit hit the fan. They were constantly moving from condos with "old friends" or her new boyfriends trailer so the safest Tabitha ever felt was in the backseat of her mother's car because at least it was just the two of them. But as she grew up, the stays became shorter and her mother became more unpredictable. Soon, homes became motels where Tabitha had to look after herself until her mom came back. Until eventually she didn't.

Then for a long time, family were people who just let you down. Abandoned you, forgot you. And it's taken Tabitha a lot of years to reframe that in her mind. Her grandparents worked hard to show her that people can be trusted. That she wasn't a burden, an unlovable child. It was only when she had Theo that Tabtiha really learnt what family meant to her.

Now, family is Theo and anyone who loves her as much as Tabitha does. Her grandparents, Lucky, the friends who stuck by her. And home is their apartment in Ocean Crest. The place where Theo lost her first tooth, took her first steps, said her first words. It's unlikely that even if she somehow made enough money to live anywhere else, Tabitha wouldn't want to move. Their apartment holds so many memories, Tabitha wouldn't give it up for the world.

[hmshermitcraft]

:For theme:

The Scarlet Pearl the dreaded monster of the dark oak forests a monster all fear. She who commands a legion of wolves armed with an axe of crying obsidian they say if she catches you in her gaze you will never be seen again….of course that’s the horrible legend Pearl has been associated with since she was a baby. You see Pearl was abandoned in the forest as a baby all because she was born with a crescent moon shaped birth mark on her face that runs from her left eye to her chin luckily she was found by a rather abnormally large pack of wolves and raised her like their own.

And sure as she got older she turned the red cloth she was found in into a very comfy and soft jacket. But that doesn’t mean she’s an omen of freaking death! The only reason she has this stinking axe is because she found it in some ruins from a broken nether portal not to mention she didn’t have claws and fangs like her family so she needed some way to defend herself. No that’s not what hurt the first time she came across another human it was a family of three and when she tried to say hi they ran away like she was a monster…so fine if they wanted a monster she’ll be a monster.

Now Etho, Cleo, and Mumbo are in their opinion’s decent monster hunters so when they get called to hunt down the omen of death called the Scarlet Pearl they thought it would be a normal gig go in kill the monster get the reward money go home. So they tried to gather some info on this monster and all they got were a bunch of random folktales and vague descriptions at best the only solid information they were given is that the monster wore a bright red cloth that was visible even in the dark oak forest surrounding the village.

Now the three were used to getting vague descriptions of their targets but this was pushing it! But they luckily learned something important the Scarlet Pearl won’t attack as long as you pay an offering usually of meats and coins now this the trio can work with. So they geared up Mumbo with his netherite shield and redstone bombs, Etho and his trusty fishing rod, and Cleo with her potions and sword. After they double check everything they head into the forest at night getting ready for the hunt to begin.

It was just another night for Pearl patrol the woods maybe hunt some game but no this time she had visitors so time to go through the whole “I’m a big scary monster routine” whoopee…so when she arrived to where these visitors were she noticed something different these people looked like they were looking to fight already spotting her family hiding in the bushes and behind the trees…this was gonna be fun. So she slowly walked out of the woods with her head down axe grinding against the ground before stopping looking at the three.

“Do you have the toll?” She asked in the low ominous voice look just cause she didn’t like this part of her routine doesn’t mean she can’t have fun every now and then. And when the woman with snake hair stepped forward saying “No we’re here to stop a monster and I’m guessing that’s you?” Oh boy these ones are actually smart and kinda pretty wait no! Focus Pearl! Before the woman could step closer she snapped her fingers causing her family to appear from the tree lines making the mustached one jump gave Pearl a little laugh.

And that’s when the mayhem began as they all began to fight in the dead of night the sound of exploding redstone and the shattering of potion bottles filled the air before the clashing of blades did. Now the trio knows they’ve been fooled for one this wasn’t a monster this was a person albeit a very powerful person she tore mumbo’s shield in half with her bare hands! That was 7inches of solid enchanted netherite?! They only managed to get her to stop when Cleo pinned an older looking wolf to a tree causing Pearl to drop her axe and run over to Cleo only to be tied up by Etho’s fishing rod and once the adrenaline wore off the three noticed this woman was covered in dried blood, scars, and muck the only remotely clean thing on her was the red jacket she was wearing so they took the opportunity to do some questioning.

And boy oh boy! Did they get some answers because it turns out Pearl as she was called was not only abandoned because of a birthmark but was feared by a regional superstition by association with it and they were just hired to kill her! And Pearl learned who the three were and thought this was the end but nope Etho let her go and asked if she wanted to tag along with them if her family would allow it and they did on the condition Pearl’s closest sister Tilly came along with. But now the village is in for a very rude awakening not only in ethics but also learning why pissing off monster hunters was a bad idea.

(Might actually turn this into a fic!)

Pearl knows her original parents had... Intentions. She's not sure if she'd say they're good, but it was abandon her or to let the people in the village kill her. The village assumed she'd died, which protected her and her family until Pearl was old enough to fight back.

She never saw the point in revenge, though. She lived a happy life with her family. They didn't have much, but they didn't need much. A comfy place to sleep, enough food to eat, and plenty of time for grooming is good enough for them.

Well, it was certainly a challenge as Cleo tried to brush Pearl's hair for the first time. They begin to realise there is some truth in calling Pearl a monster, because Cleo thinks those bite marks in her arm might actually scar. They're able to get Pearl into cleaner clothes, even if she refuses to let go of the cloak. Nobody is allowed to touch it.

Pearl, it turns out, is a very useful addition to her ranks. Pearl's pack is on good terms with a lot of other ones, so Pearl is privy to the local gossip. If a monster has been nearby, the wolves are going to know about it. The fearsome creatures that once terrorised them are now valuable allies.

Pearl is also very easy to please romantically. She nearly falls over at any gesture! They just wish she'd maybe find an alternative to licking them...

[maschals]

Oct 2 - I'll call out your name but you won't call back

I think I might do some stuff for Whumptober. It's good practice for my inks and it lets me be edgy.

Hope it came out well!

[moonglowmuses]

"I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna stay right here. Cause all kinds of trouble." ( amanda & anyone )

amanda felt her cheeks flush out of relief when she learned that her friend was not going anywhere. "you're gonna stay right here, huh? with me? you might grow tired of the task." amanda was not accustomed to people wanting to be around her. while this city was kinder to her, and she had reliable people around, her default was still to abuse and abandonment. she wished that she could cut that shit out, and she was. it was simply a process that took time. "if you're gonna stay with me, there's one rule..." amanda arched a brow in a playful manner before she revealed what she wanted and needed and hoped for. "you're gonna tell me WHICH kinds of trouble you plan on getting in. because if you're lucky, I'LL BREAK THE RULES WITH YOU." she wouldn't go anywhere if her friend wasn't also.

@fcdcdmcmories