#broken circuits [ooc]

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

Request from @witheringpain - Could you make a headcanon of how all the autobots/decepticons would react if you died in a war (G1) ?

Will do 🫡🫡🫡

Sorry this is so late but I’ve got so much going on I’ve ended up going through my requests at a snails pace lol.

I haven't done transformers requests in 3-4 years so hello pls don't beat me up over this but here we go anyway:

Warnings: Character Death (Reader), Heavy Descriptions Of Gore And Violence, Themes Of Grieving And Depression

Autobots: (This is mostly Optimus-centred but I included most of the Autobots reactions because this first part was already too long to repeat for each separate character – I’ve also made it platonic)

Also PLEASE keep in mind that I’ve only seen short clips of G1, which is why I don’t write for them often, so the characters may seem a little OOC – if they are I apologise but it’s the best I could do

Ooooh boy, they’re not gonna like that

Let’s say you’re Optimus’s bestie (along with the other autobots ofc)

And let’s keep in mind that G1 Optimus is not as calm/ level headed as TFP Optimus and not as ‘death/kill/angry/rage’ as Bayverse Optimus

So he’s not gonna go round on the battle field murdering left right and centre

But he’s also not gonna just stand there

He’s more likely to turn towards the loud gunshot behind him and watch as your body hits the ground and take a moment

Like it’s not gonna click instantly

He probably thinks you’ve been shot in the leg and he waits a second for you to scream or writhe around in pain

But then your body lops to the side and he sees your eyes frozen wide in shock, with a gaping bullet hole still sizzling and steaming away in the middle of your forehead

And when I say it hits them all

It hits them

HARD

Optimus sort of just stumbles for a moment cuz he can feel every part of himself short-circuit

He also thought his audio receptors had stopped working

But no

It’s the battlefield

It’s dead silent

Everyone seems to have just stopped

He can’t see (cuz he literally cannot take his eyes off your body) but Prowl and Ratchet are nearest

And they’re desperate to run to him but the fact that he’s so still

Ratchet doesn’t dare go near you for a hot minute because it’s not normal for Optimus to be still for that long.

Prowl’s too busy trying to see who shot you, and eventually he spies the steaming barrel of the gun from across the field and he’s instantly seeing red

The decepticon that owns said gun doesn’t look any better

You can practically hear him from how much he’s shaking

Eventually, the dead silence is broken

“What did you do?”

It’s Megatron

He might be Optimus’s sworn enemy

But he knows when to not cross a line

As in murder Optimus’s closest friend

Megatron only murmured it since he was only frozen in place a few metres away

But it was loud enough to break whatever spell Optimus was under

Both decepticons watched in terror as Optimus’s head snapped towards them, his optics wide and glowing brighter than ever

And you know what’s even worse?

His face guard is gone

Sheathed away and full face on display

Now, let’s clarify that you, are the only person in the existence of ever, to know what he looks like under the mask

And the fact that everyone can see his full face right now shows exactly how out of control his emotions are right now

He’s heaving, he’s shaking, and there’s coolant streaming down his face because guess what cybertronians can cry

In his millions of years fighting wars, Megatron can’t recall a time he’s ever seen such despair on a bots face

Let alone on Optimus

The sounding of creaking metal brings everyone’s attention back on Optimus

And it takes a moment for everyone to realise where the noise is coming from but soon enough they watch as his servo tightens even more around his axe, the creaking noise becoming louder

And all of a sudden everyone’s like:

Oh shit

The decepticon that shot you is like

Shit shit shit shit

And Megatron accepts he’s gonna be a Con down after today because looking at the state that Prime is in he knows it’s not worth it

He looks to the Con who is pleading for help with his eyes and just shrugs

“I think you’re on your own now :)”

Megatron along with everyone else takes a step back as Optimus begins to move

He’s not running, no

Just walking

His optics not moving from the con in front of him as he strides over.

Eventually the con drops his gun with a cry and frantically runs into the woods behind him

But Optimus keeps his speed at walking pace

Which is even more terrifying

Megatron just moves aside raising his hands in surrender as he passes

Because a heaving, blank-faced, mask-less Optimus unconsciously dragging a weapon behind him is not something he wants to try and pester right now

Soon Optimus disappears into the woods after the Con

And everyone remains silent and unmoving as they listen

Pedesteps every now and again are heard from within the trees

Minutes pass and no one is yet to move, too occupied with straining their audials for a noise

Though it isn’t long until everyone flinches as a terrified shriek rips through the air, causing the birds to scatter

A string of frantic pleads of help follow

Until they are replaced with screams as loud clangs of metal on metal are heard

But soon the screams are drowned out by the clangs and soon enough the sounds of the Con are no more

But the clanging doesn’t stop

It just keeps going in a steady rhythm

Until one final loud smash reverberates through the air

And it is silent once again

Everyone else takes this as their cue

Megatron instantly transforms and takes off

And it isn’t long before the rest of the Decepticons follow, leaving the Autobots to themselves

The following silence is soon broken as Ratchet finally moves towards your body

Wiping the coolant that won’t seem to stop streaming down his face, he kneels down to scoop your lifeless form into his arms

Prowl drags himself over to you both, his pedes never feeling so heavy

With a dark solemn look on his faceplates, he stares at your corpse in the medics arms

After a moment, he slowly lifts his servo towards your face, where your face is still frozen in a terrified expression

And as gently as he can, he takes two digits and places them above your optic lids before sliding them closed

That seemed to be a tipping point for Ratchet as he broke down in heaving sobs

His frame trembling as he tried to keeps both himself and you balanced as everyone around looked at him in both surprise and pity

This is a first because Ratchet is probably the least likely to react so emotionally to death

He been witnessing it almost every day for the past few million years after all

But you were someone special

Someone he thought would be the last person to die so suddenly

Someone he thought he would have time to save, and time to grieve

But that’s what war does

It has no mercy with anyone

No matter who someone is and how special they are

And Ratchet thought he had come to terms with that idea

But the scene he gave showed everyone he hadn’t quite accepted it fully

Prowl wanted to break down too

He wanted to scream into the heavens and beyond, cursing out those who took you from them but also hoping you could hear him

A sign to show that you were still here with them

But he knew it would prove useless

And with Ratchet gone too far into his own mind

He knew it was his turn to be the level headed one

Now wasn’t the time to flip tables and punch walls

He didn’t want to show his emotional instability in front of the others

So he joined Ratchet by his side, a servo slowly soothing up and down the medic’s trembling back struts.

He noted that Optimus still hadn’t returned from the woods

But that wasn’t who he was concerned about at the moment

As if on cue, three sets of bouncing footsteps along with energised voices were heard as they got nearer

Everyone tensed at the sound, and slowly turned towards the outstretch of cliff nearby where the voices owners would soon be revealed

Prowl left Ratchet’s side after one last reassuring pat, leaving the now slightly calmer bot to cradle you

Turning the corner, he was met with two bright sets of yellow and one red

Bumblebee, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had returned from their reconnaissance, playing and shoving at each other joyously after a seemingly successful mission, ready to hear what had become of the fight they missed

Though that all halted when they caught sight of a silent Prowl who was suspiciously not scolding them for returning so late

Coming to a stop, they eyed him, Sideswipe talking first:

“We just saw Megatron and his goons flying away! Did you flip enough tables to scare them off or something?”

That set the three of them into another fit of giggles

But coming to a stop again at the sight of Prowls door wings not springing up in frustration like they usually do

“Say Prowl, what’s got your tailpipe in a twist?” Sunstreaker piped up

Prowl opened his mouth, and got exactly one vowel out before going silent again. He did this several times before eventually giving up.

Ok this was different

Prowl always has something to reply with

“What happened.” Demanded Bumblebee

Despite being a joyous bot, Bumblebee knew when it was time to be serious, and Prowl being lost for words meant that only the worst could have happened

Prowl tried to reply again, but his voice box betrayed him for a second time

Without a second thought Bumblebee strode ahead, brushing aside Prowls outstretched servo and rounded the corner

At a first glance all he could see was every bot crowded around something, but when he called out they all parted to reveal something he wished he could never see

A pained cry of despair echoed throughout the forested valley, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker didn’t hesitate for a second as they sprinted around the corner to their friend with Prowl hot on their heels

The sight before them was the one thing they never wanted

Bumblebee was being held back as he tried to reach for whatever Ratchet had in his arms, howling and crying out as he stretched his arm as far as he could

The two bots rushed to try and help the others in restraining him, but both stumbled in shock as they caught sight of your lifeless corpse

Soon the bots had to be divided as they wrestled the three young bots that were wailing in anguish for their friend

Bumblebee had given up at this point, his head on Prowls shoulder as he stared at you with a glazed unmoving expression

The twins were worse off, crying and screaming in everyone’s faces until their voice boxes gave out, demanding what had happened and why they weren’t able to save you, why Ratchet wasn’t able to save you, but all the bots and the medic could do was look down to not make any further eye contact.

Not long after the screaming match another set of footsteps were heard getting nearer, and a hush fell over everyone, including the twins after pleas from the others, as they all stared at the silhouette emerging from the foliage

As the bot moved into the sunlight, everyone’s optics widened at the sight

Optimus had returned, but he was barely recognisable

Well

You could still tell it was him

But his paintjob was almost unidentifiable

Blue and red peeked through the streaks and smears of pink and magenta, the energon from the unlucky con splattered all over his frame

The worst parts were on his axe and up his arms, his paintjob covered almost entirely with energon still dripping from those areas along with chunks of metal that slowly slid down his frame, looking suspiciously similar to the con’s paintjob

The most horrifying part, though, was his axe

Which looked like it had come straight out of a horror movie

Through the energon and bits of metal that covered the blades, one half seemed to have bent, the blade curving in a way that would fit a cybertronians head shape after hitting it with the force of a mountain

Which is probably what happened

It’s also probably what made that extra load bang at the end

But no one really cared about that

They were too busy trying to figure out what Optimus would do next

Which was a bit difficult considering he was just standing there not saying a word and just staring ahead into the distance

A beat passed before shuffling was heard and Bumblebee broke away from Prowls embrace and rushed towards the Prime

Despite everyone wanting to stop him, they were too scared of going near Optimus at this point

Reaching Optimus, Bumblebee threw himself around him, not caring about the height difference

This seemed to bring Prime out of his trance, half lidded optics looking down at the smaller bot

Though it wasn’t long before Optimus gently pried Bumblebee’s servos away, holding them in his own

The bots watched albeit tense as the taller bot stared down at his smaller companion

All it took was for Bee to look up whilst blinking back tears of coolant for Optimus to drop his axe with a clang and scoop him into his arms, their helms buried into each other’s neck cables, and Bumblebee’s sobbing started up again

After a minute, they pulled away from each other, and Bee tried to say something through the hiccupping of his voice box, but the Prime stopped him with a servo on his shoulder and a small smile that was far from reaching his optics

Which everyone could see since he had yet to re-engage his mask

But they made sure not to bring it up

Soon Optimus was back on his pedes and picking up his axe, gently leading Bumblebee back to the group

Reaching Ratchet, he placed a servo on his shoulder

“Let’s get them back to the ship old friend."

Decepticons: (This one’s a bit shorter I’m afraid – I struggled with coming up with anything for anyone else so this is more headcanon-y)

Warnings: Character Death (AKA YOU), Heavy Descriptions of Gore, Themes of Grieving and Depression.

Now with the decepticons it can be a little different

Depending on what kind of relationship you’ve formed and with who

The Autobots are all tight knit in some way

Whereas with the cons

You could’ve been working with them for eons

But if you’re just another soldier that has been recruited

Then those higher up aren’t gonna bat an optic

They might notice your posts being replaced

But that’s it

However

If you’re higher ranking and have formed some type of relationship with them

Then things are going to go down differently

Soundwave would be inconsolable for a while

The only ones allowed near him were his minicons

Who would scuttle out his berthroom to grab some energon for their robodad, before quickly disappearing back into the dark room

He wouldn’t come out until Megatron demanded entry

And the minocons along with a few others would wait around the corner in the corridor

Tying to get within earshot but failing nonetheless

Megatron then walked out, not bothering with the troops who scattered as soon as he appeared

It would be another day before Soundwave would emerge

But he wouldn’t answer anyone about how he was

He simply got on with his tasks as he did before

Overworking so much that he would have to be dragged to recharge

Life would resume as normal

But during his weekly spying sessions through the security cameras

Starscream would note the pauses the quiet con would take

Each time in the exact same spot

Standing in front of the doors to the comms room where you had worked

Staring in as if he was looking for you to spring out on him

But you never did

Speaking of Starscream

It’s a bit of a 50/50 with him

You could be any rank

And considering how desperate he is to overthrow Megatron and lead the Decepticons

There’s a chance that he could be so obsessed and caught up in his scheming

That he just doesn’t have the spare time to get to know you or basically care about you in any way

But if we went with the other half

And you were someone he had befriended and roped into his overthrowing plans

Then your death would throw him off track big time

It would take him forever to comprehend the fact that the one con he could trust properly on his ship was in pieces that were now drifting somewhere through space

To the other cons he was just being himself after your death

So just annoying

Complaining how he now had to figure out how to achieve the tasks he had set you for universal dominance as well as his own

But the heaving sobs and wails that echoed through the ships corridors late at night said otherwise

Ravage made the unlucky mistake of walking in on Starscream as he curled up underneath his desk

Though not much time was spent inside as Ravage high tailed it out of there, narrowly dodging something being thrown as the seeker screamed for them to get out

Skywarp and Thundercracker had a hard time as well

Feeling the immense grief flowing through the bond of their trine mate’s spark as they watched him brush you off as just another accomplice in front of everyone else

Now

Onto boss man

Megatron would practically explode

He would be throwing himself into every battle and every autobot he can get his servos on

The one commander, apart from soundwave, he could trust with his life

Gone

In a puff of smoke

Well..

More like an explosion

AKA you were blasted to smithereens before he could pull you free from the collapsing power reactor

He would be frozen in place, your decapitated servo still grasped in his own

Bits of wiring and armour plating surrounding him on the floor

Along with the pink flames of your energon that had ignited as it hit the burning debris

He doesn’t quite remember what happened next

All he could recall were flashes of the bodies of other autobots as he tore them apart

And he found himself sat in the medbay, glaring unfocused at the metal floor

And now, in his berth room eons later, he still finds himself staring at the floor

Feeling as useless as the glass case that sat upon his shelf

Where a single servo laid, refusing to rust

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Return to Navigation

Thank you so much for reading! I will reopen requests at some point, but for now, I'll be posting what I've already written. See you soon!

Do not repost

[terriblyrenderedenigma]

The Coveted Star

(A/n: This is my first little attempt at a little transformers blurb of Megatron x OC/Self insert who will be greatly elaborated upon in later posts. Just thought id dip my toes in the water here.)

Tags: Nonspecific Transformers continuity (As of current at least, leaning towards TFA, or maybe changing context and interaction before going earthspark) Description: Megatron trying to persuade a human turned unaffiliated bot into joining the Decepticons. Word Count: 637 Warnings: Probably ooc Megatron x Fem oc/self-insert; Probably confusing lore but will have an oc lore dump post laterrr; brief corpse mention but not serious; Religious Imagery - hell mention; slight xenophobia; eye strain because colored text; probably poor use of cybertronian anatomy

“Look at you! A great star in the sky among walking corpses with withering souls! You hold amazing power… it would be such a waste for you not to use it…” The dirtied grey mech held out his servo in offering to Aquarion, his broad digits scratched and deeply scarred from decades of fighting, of war. The sleek femme’s purple optics moved with trepidation from the dark flat palm of his servo, flitting across his dented plating until their optics met.

The crimson glow of his optics burned like the fires of hell that made old historians writhe in their sleep before vomiting their horrors onto withered pages in striking raven ink. If his passion was inferno, he burnt like the lake of fire he'd be condemned to for the sins he held heavy servo'd against his fellow kin. Palms bathed in enough energon alone to rejuvenate his dead and broken home...

“I cannot take a place at your side…” Aquarion’s soft tone breaks with static, vocalizer quickly correcting as she vents a heavy puff of steam. White plating shone like freshly fallen snow, violet bio-lights peeking out between the crevasses, the breaks in her armor.

Her frame ran hot. Wiring burning with unease much like the nerves that used to sting her once human flesh with sensations deeper than this by tenfold. “To take up my burdens and follow you would be to turn my back on the people that I used to be a part of.” As the words left her, a frown wormed its way across her faceplate.

“Used to. Have you not experienced the hateful gazes? The fear and scrutiny in their fleshy eyes as they look up at the form that has consumed you. Changed you-" The leader of the Decepticons arms swing out dramatically, gesturing to the femme in all her new glory. The body that held her conscious was strong and sturdy, powerful, volatile, capable! It would kill Megatron to see the potential in her circuits wasted on neutrality -- or worse, the Autobots. "-Named you Aquarion and chose you out of all your kind for a higher purpose! This is a gift... You are no longer one of them! You are one of us!” Megatron demands, the deep timbre of his voice echoing not only within the gears of his own chassis, but hers as well. There’s an echo of desperation, an anticipation to make her understand that things are not the same anymore, her life is no longer what it was and never will be again.

No longer human, but hot blooded cybertronian... "I can't-"

"Take my hand!" Megatron demands harshly now, thrusting his servo forward once more at her continued hesitance, the swift movement of his hand towards her making her massive wings flare in a defensive stir. "Take my hand, and I will show you greatness you've never known! Teach you who you were meant to be..." The roughness of his vocalizer tapering off into a tender request.

Why did he persist so strongly? Demand so insistently that she follow him? Go with him into the deep dark night into even more mystery?What fears would she have to conquer as her palm fit smoothly within his own?

What manipulation, scheming, plotting would she be forced to be a part of? The decepticons certainly weren't the kindest or truthful of all beings. But Megatron their great leader, strong, dangerous, downright terrifying to any normal human... Stood face to face with her and-

"Please."

His pleading, set in motives unknown sent her over. Aquarion relents and takes his servo firmly and without another thought.

"Alright then... why don't you show me what I can do?"

Aquarion knew not what path this choice would lead her, but she was sure of one thing. This was going to end terribly.

[shinnyscats]

!¡ Copia x Gn!Reader

"Kinda adorable."

A/N: Put an eye on Copia for a little while (・・) I don't know how to write him at 100%, so I apologize if it's a bit OOC, Enjoy!

Versión Esp aquí !

Tw: Gn!Reader, pronouns not specified, fluff

"I'll be outside for several hours." He says while combing his hair back. "Don't do anything I'm responsible for." Ghouls nodded while his hands half-heartedly fixed his suit, which seemed to have been recently ironed. "And you." He says while one finger of his pointed directly in your direction "Don't cause trouble

Your eyes are roll. You? Cause trouble? Pff, not in a million years. Maybe the other day you broke the microwave because of a supposed "constant threatening noise" that it came from it, or that the day before that you climbed onto the roof trying to hide from Sodo, who you made angry all the time, almost dying trying, or that the week before they almost canceled a live show because you had broken your instrument and, trying to fix it, you caused a short circuit in the entire theater.

Well, those are small exceptions that did not have a great impact, or that's what you called them, something that Copia didn't always find very funny. It was always something new with you. Once Papa Emeritus V passed the door and closed it, it was only a matter of seconds before the other Ghouls found out about your antics..

"I told you to give it to me!" Sodo yells angrily as he tried to grab you. "I just want to play my great solo, give me five minutes, yeah?" That makes him even more angry, you didn't even have one. His legs move nimbly to match your speed, but all that effort is in vain. "Let's see, how do you play this thing?" You say to yourself, completely ignoring the fact that a Ghoul taller than you was directly in front of you, and was prepared to stop you.

Sodo reaches out to grab his guitar before it hit the ground and broke. What did reach the ground, and what caused you slight pain, was you and your head when you collided with Mountain and fell to the ground.

"Ugh, thanks.'" The shorter one said as he left the place, but not before giving you a look that indirectly communicated 'I'm going to kill you.' You were already used to that look anyways. 'Stop stealing his guitar, he'll kill us all if you even scratch it." Mountain tells you as he helps you stand up. "I didn't steal it, I borrowed it without asking." The ghoul in front of you nods while rolling his eyes with an amused smile. "Yeah, yeah, You better come to rehearse with me."

Your hand was behind your head, where you had received the impact against the ground, as you followed Mountain towards the rehearsal room. Those few minutes in which you remained silent listening to Mountain speak were the most calm sounds that the Ghoul could witness coming from you. "You're very quiet, did you hit yourself too hard?" Sorry for tha-" but, when he turns around, a disappointed expression appears on his face and a hand rises to his forehead when he sees that you weren't around.

Well,maybe you got distracted halfway when you passed by Copia's room. Maybe you entered without being heard and maybe you were rummaging through his drawers.

You laughed while seeing how many suits of the same color Papa Emeritus IV had, perhaps it was you who could not distinguish between two almost identical colors. His room was gigantic, or well, it was bigger compared to yours. The sheets on the bed were very thick, not to mention soft too. You lay down as if you didn't have obligations gripping your shoulders and sigh deeply.

Your eyes traveled around the room looking for something fun to do, until you find a very familiar white suit shining before you. That black hat was calling you, and you knew it. It didn't take long for you to decide to put on that white suit. You noticed that it wasn't too big or too small, it was almost taylor made for you.

You look at yourself in the bedroom mirror. You looked good, pretty good. You start doing the poses that Copia did during the shows, using the cane that was next to his clothes as a microphone. Humming song lyrics, you don't notice eyes behind you. You get scared and trip, colliding with the closet and causing the hat to fall on your head.

"What are you doing?" You can recognize, by the voice, that it was Copia. You weren't usually one to be embarrassed by what you did, but this did more than make your heart race. You quickly stood up, staggering, avoiding eye contact at all times for fear of worse humiliation. A few seconds of awkward silence pass, which you can't stand, and you run out of the room. You would change and return him his clothes another time. Now you just had to hope that Copia didn't take it the wrong way and that he didn't tell anyone...

However, what you didn't see was that Copia, after grabbing the papers that he had forgotten on his desk, let out a faint laugh as he shook his head.

"How adorable."

[mrcrawlingg]

The woman in the white trenchcoat squeaked in shock, followed by more coughing and wheezing, though in the moment, she realizes something — the crawling man, not only did he not attack her, but...the broken English, it just asked if she was alright or not.

"...Huh?"

The woman looked at him in confusion with a tinge of surprise. He wasn't gonna...kill her?

"...I'm...fine."

Regaining a bit of breath, she just stood there, looking at the entity for a while. Her brain was short circuiting. She'd thought she'd never find a friendly face in these accused apartments, and wasn't used to finding friendly faces anywhere.

— 🚬

(OOC: I FORGOR THE 🚬 NOOOOOO)

It would giggle, holding that same ear to ear smile. Watching the women regaining her breath, it assumed she was doing fine. Mr. Crawling stared at the women in the white trench coat taking in her features, judging my the fairly clean trench coat it assumed that she had come in not too long ago. Mr. Crawling would lift his hand up and point at her hand, pointing toward the cigar she’s been holding. Sensing the strong scent came from there, he would tilt his head to the side a little and speak.

“What?”

[lephamquynhnhu]

Panacea

Chapter 3: The last remnant of epics (First Half)

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC, mentioned blood, violence. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: ~1k7

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: Do you like...pain?

"The patient has been in a coma for 72 hours from being discovered. Hemoptysis with unknown cause and her condition refuse all drugs even cloudhymn does not meet the treat's purpose ." 

Dawn breaks at the East horizon, shining fragile sunbeams on a nightingale at your window, where eglantine baths in the late-winter breezes. The bird tilts its head toward a man who closes the medical file to sit beside your headboard. Its black eyes shimmer at the sight of Dan Feng slowly stroking your hand to check the pulse in serene silence. He now understands why you wear gloves all the time, to conceal these wrinkles that dedicate the unrecoverable illness. His cloudhymn failed to cure because all your living circuits were damaged, and ADN is no longer to repair. Imbibitor Lunae always knows that mortals are frail and short-lived, including you, but he refuses to give up on you this early. 

Therefore, he gambles his last hope in this brewing dose. A thin stream of smoke from your china cup leisurely dissolves into the air that swirls off his mind as the High Elder found your limp body sprawled onto the garden with blood had already dried and a pale complexion. His immovable spirit wavered for the first time when he realized none of the treatments adapted to your status. Initially, the Long Scion intended to hospitalize you at the Alchemistry Commission, yet a mysterious veil shrouded your identity, causing him to change his mind since Dan Feng attempted to search for records or used medicine as a reference to develop an appropriate method. He spotted a polaroid dyed in time hue and a small glass jar that lay neatly in the last drawer, which led to another surprising event after analyzing those items. 

The stagnated content in that container was an inhibitor serum that does not register in any medical history. As for your polaroid, five people stand at an old ruin, and four of them wear cheerful smiles on their vague faces when a center girl gives two peace signs with her indifferent look. Dan Feng could not tell if she was you since a sandy filter tainted the photo's plane, and most of her broken features were faint. Besides, the line "Memento mori" was written in sea penmanship on the verso, which intrigued his curiosity no less because it means "Remember that you [have to] die" in the Latin language.

However, Imbibitor Lunae takes a respite temporarily from his unbelievable hypothesis to prioritize your current problem. He only simulates 70 percent from the unclear formula in two days since your condition is on edge. Judging at purple veins spread over your face like a spider web indicates that the High Elder's acupuncture is about not sustaining the ebbing circumstance. Just as Dan Feng distraughtly caresses your wilt hand, the convulsion symptom breakthroughs the limit and takes control of your body. Ignoring the heat that overwhelms his mind and burns down his tongue, the Long Scion immediately drinks the brewing herbs to drench you. No words can describe his elated expression when your eyelids flutter open, and all the dreadful symptoms withdraw promptly as the medicine kicks in, restoring your ruddy complexion. 

Winter passed, Spring came, and another circular cycle of linear time started as your pear blossoms halo underneath the silver moonlight. All corners of the Shangri-La immerse into argent moonlit, which creates a luxuriant spectacle as you and Dan Feng sit on the terrace together for flower viewing. The ambiance brims with the sweet aroma of Spring's breath while ethereal petals litter the ground densely, woven like a florid rug. Looking at his space-out figure with the sheen liquid that gleamed beneath those green eyes, you cannot help but inquire about his tangled thoughts. The High Elder merely inhales a long exhalation and shakes his head to gulp down the mild spice of apricot wine. 

"Nothing, I will bottom it up even if it is poisonous." - Unchanging his visage, Dan Feng's chiseled Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed it, earning your joyful giggle. Undeniably, the High Elder possesses an awful sense of humor.

Fireflies start lighting their green phosphor glims in the epiphyllum bush to attract your concentration. It is rare to see them at this time because fireflies usually appear in the Summer season, and no exception to the Shangri-La. As a result, you want to catch some and contemplate your new moon cactus at a close distance. Imbibitor Lunae still nonchalantly refills his cup with his eyes fixed on your animated silhouette before a dark cloud flies through, obscuring the shining moon. 

Three deafening sounds reverberate through the house that seethes the vicinity as soon as the surroundings drown in darkness. In brief seconds, an unreversed upheaval occurs to change everything upside down. After the noise of his broken cup was the metal collision, and the sound of sharp tool stabbing in the wood followed up. 

"So, is it you? Bai Lin the tyranny?" - Dan Feng is the first person to raise his voice, arousing the sedate blank. Combined with the silken peary light engraving dark and bright contrasting plates on the Long Scion's face, the cyan orbs glow like cat eyes under his shadowy bangs. However, there is no sliver of hostility in his gaze. A shallow cut on his cheekbone gradually emerges in a thin scarlet line when the black cloud leaves, rendering the full moon. 

On the opposite side, a glimpse of the familiar figure materializes from a cyclone made of thousands of heavenly petals who points her sword toward him with a decisive look. Gripping the conceptual blade manifested by winds is Wrath of Mandala, which was once a replica of Three Grand Divine Weapons that is eligible to kill immortals. You eventually discard the camouflage to reveal your true identity and vigilantly stand still.

Even though answering his question is the smoothing melody of your wind chime hanging on the porch, Imbibitor Lunae knows his hypothesis is correct. In millions of possibilities, the Long Scion never expected or believed that he would meet a phantom from the past who attempted to assassinate him like this. In brief moments, you took advantage of the darkness to fly daggers at his position, but Dan Feng neutralized the first one by throwing the cup and summoning his spear to counter the second one. Nevertheless, he failed to completely evade the last dagger due to the poison that affected his body. The High Elder wonders if you orchestrate this scheme from the beginning because this atropin agent originates from Datura Metel. Maybe he was the worm in your garden that you mentioned. Nonetheless, your apricot wine is innocent, but not his ceramic cup. 

"I ask of you, all of our memories are fake?" - Dan Feng exhales as blood cascades to his chin like a tear, feeling the paralysis sensation strike through to depress his central nervous system. 

"Whoever aware of Devourers of abominations...MUST DIE!" 

Avoiding to give him a direct answer, you hiss your carved motto and dash forward with the windy blade. Under the rousing battle of you and Imbibitor Lunae, pear blossom falling frenziedly as a downpour, those petals whirl around you two akin to a mad maelstrom when your masterful swordsmanship keeps tearing the air to pierce his defense. Like a death choreography under the flowery rain, sparklets flicker at your weapons crash underneath the bright moonlit, and the ground gets plowed every time your slashing form sweeps through. Staring into each other fiery eyes, you know the High Elder has reached his limit and is struggling to measure your intangible sword. Even in a weakened state, Dan Feng is still one of the most capable warriors, proving that the title Imbibitor Lunae is not a vainglory. Nevertheless, he cannot swing his spear as usual as the action slows down precisely 0.2 seconds due to the poison. Even with a small amount of poison, that condensed extraction is far enough to work well.

In finality, the balance battle skews to your side when you seize the opportunity to cast out his spear, causing it to fly aloft and implant into the mangled soil afterward. Imbibitor Lunae's irises squeeze to the limit when your sword tip awaits with the moon background.

"Those memories are real, and I rejoice to stay with the person named Dan Feng." - Your mind screams while darting forward, ready to bore a hole in his heart. Upon the force of the unparalleled wind that drives the High Elder's long locks thrown back when receiving a lethal strike with scattering petals disassociate. 

Amidst the poetic colonnade of pear blossom, time seems to stop flowing, and two people stand motionless as a long sword means to saber through the man's body, intending to strip him of permanent life. However, her sword tip barely grazes his chest. 

"Why...why you didn't dodge it when you were capable of?" - The voice nearly inaudible under your breath with the gaze downcast while Imbibitor Lunae remains silent with his solemn expression.

"If you dare not, I will lend you my strength." - Dan Feng abruptly grabs the conceptual weapon to stab it through. Flabbergasting at his decision, you pull back the blade instinctively, making the dripping blood from his hand follow the line to stagnate at your hilt. Finally, you unsummon the sword when you see a scarlet circle blooms on his attire. 

Kneeling on the ground, you blankly stare into the hollow voidness, and so does the High Elder, but he crunches down to pull you into an embrace. Biting your lips to prevent the honest desires from cascading like a waterfall, you want to resume staying by his side, and you also want to continue waking up by his side. 

"Your mission has ended for a long time, Bai Lin." - Dan Feng softly whispers behind and pats your head, his voice soothing the aching heart. It is a mystery why his hugging feels so gentle even after your death match. Although you are soon aware that this moment will come, tears compete to fall out of your eyes corners. An igniting sensation besieges the bridge nose when you helplessly cry on his shoulder. 

"Feng...please kill me or hand me over to the Yaoqing." - You weakly vocalize after a long serenity. Because life is sometimes tragic, we decide to sacrifice for something better. However, there are still shortcomings among his paragon virtues, and stubbornness is honorably one of them. 

"...You will die if you don't."

"A double coffin doesn't sound that bad."

"Fool." 

Ah, life is sometimes tragic.  

[little-wing-and-branching-vines]

Hello. My name is Nathaniel Wilds. You can just call me Nat if you want. My friend Dimi Wobbler and I were both... separated from our original worlds and have been attempting for about a year now to find them again. If they’re still there. This device I’m typing on is called the DIRT and it’s supposed to help us travel between dimensions. Except it’s broken, and we’re stuck here.

I am… it’s hard to explain. I came from the trees and grasses and animals of my world, of Dallas. But I’m a person now. He/him and they/them are both fine.

Dimi is a bird, a radio broadcaster, and my friend. They/them pronouns. They're energetic and kind and they always have a lot to say. Maybe sometimes too much, but I don't mind. They... probably would have written this post better than I can.

I don’t know what else to add. Hope this was sufficient.

Hi! Dimi here! Hey, you didn't do a bad job with this, Nat! Besides the part where you said I talk too much. Maybe it's just that you talk too little! Anyway, Nat and I are traveling to Lumiose City to meet with the professor there. We're hoping he can help us! We've also made friends with a few pokemon along the way:

Chester - Quilladin (M)

Silas - Bibarel (F)

Now let me pass it off to our other correspondent who posts here sometimes!

Hola, you can call me Yvonne! (//OOC: This is Serena) I just moved to Kalos from Paldea, and I use she/her pronouns. I'm not really sure what I'm doing on my journey yet, but I suppose I'm going to learn about the fashions of Kalos and try the gym challenge? And of course, hang out with this strange little group I've found myself traveling with! ^u^ The other "correspondents" as Dimi calls them, don't directly post here very much, but they are as follows:

"Xavier" - Battle Correspondent //OOC: Calem

"Ribbon" - Miscellaneous Correspondent //OOC: Shauna

Tierno - Dance Correspondent

"Maple" - Research Correspondent //OOC: Trevor

//OOC under the cut

Hello wonderful people of rotomblr! I have been wanting to make this blog for literally MONTHS now, and I’ve finally gotten my shit together enough to do so!! 

This is kind of a Faller blog in that Nathaniel Wilds and Dimi Wobbler are very much not from the pokemon world. But unlike most Fallers, they were traveling the multiverse intentionally. They just kind of… got stuck for a bit.

To be clear, Nat and Dimi are not original characters. They are relatively minor characters from a certain discontinued horror sports simulator, DM me if you want more details, I just don’t want to mention it outright because I don’t want to clog that fandom’s search results. My interpretations of them take a lot of inspiration from fandom-created lore, but they’re probably different from a lot of other interpretations too. People who are familiar with these characters may not agree with my interpretation- that’s fine, everyone’s ideas are valid! Just please don’t enforce your interpretations onto me or otherwise be an asshole about it.

A lot of this blog will focus more on these two going through the plot of Kalos than their pasts, but that being said their pasts will definitely come up sometimes. And the source they’re from can get quite dark. Topics that might come up include death (including death by fire specifically), grief, apocalypses, loss of agency, loss of identity, body horror, unreality, and potentially other upsetting things. All of these will be tagged, and please ask if there’s anything else you’d like me to tag. If you want to avoid any posts that go in-depth into the more traumatic parts of their backstories, block the tag #short circuited memories.

This blog is following a playthrough of the mod Eternal X of Pokemon X. So some NPCs' teams might be different from Vanilla X, this is why.

Magic anons are off. Pelipper/Musharna mail is on. Eebies and sentient pokemon are definitely free to interact!

I am an adult, but no NSFW asks please. There won’t be any heavy NSFW on this blog at all, but idk, if I make a lightly NSFW joke or something, it will be properly tagged as NSFW. 

In general, I will probably ignore any ask that makes me uncomfortable- no judgment to whoever sent the ask in that case of course, I just might not be up for engaging with certain things.

Finally, here’s a reference image of my interpretation of Nat and Dimi. I used this picrew (https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1414503) as a base and modified it for Nat, then pasted a drawing of Dimi I did onto it:

And here’s just my drawing of Dimi:

I hope you all enjoy this! I know I will!

[gnibiv-tsuj-xela]

👻👊🍓🌙🌺🕷️🙉🏊‍♀️✂️👑🎀📎☄️💔

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?: (he has.. reluctantly accepted the fact that justs is a ghost now. though he can’t see him, the fact that everyone else can is enough to prove that he’s there.)

👊 PUNCH - are they quick to violence?: (definitely depends on the person he’s feeling violent towards. I’d say that he’s a bit more aggressive than he does show, but doesn’t typically act on any violent thoughts)

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?: (probably doesn’t eat enough in general, but when he does, gets a decent amount of fruit & vegs. favorite fruit is grapes, vegetable is broccoli.)

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?: (this is pretty much what one question from another ask game is so I’ll just copy & paste it; (honestly, im not entirely sure what he wants. but maybe above all, he just wants things to be like they were before. before justs died. if justs just gets revived, things would still be tense and weird, and viling would probably just kill him again. so, short answer: whatever he wants, he’d think its out of his control and he wouldnt even try to go any far for it.))

🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?: (pollen. not too bad, tho)

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?: (yet another question that I don’t really have an answer to?? as for irrational fears, nah)

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?: (uhhh.. currently, basically anyone telling him abt what viling has been saying to justs. his brain would short circuit)

🏊 SWIMMING - can they swim? or are they afraid of water? how well do they swim? how do they feel about swimming in the ocean?: (he can swim well enough. fine with ocean, prefers a normal pool more though)

✂️ SCISSORS - what is the "last straw" for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?: (welll…. after justs death he was going to hate viling, but now he’s friends with her again and ‘hates’ justs. he can’t completely let go of people easily, and I guess there isn’t much of any last straw in particular for him.)

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?: (he wants to be evil. he wants to be friends with viling and achieve… well, he’s not quite sure, but he wants to do something.)

🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?: (HEATHERS AU HEATHERS AU HEATHERS AU!!)

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.: (he does not know how to ride a bike 👍)

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?: (hmmm. it feels like everyone (mainly ooc) is assuming he likes justs. and they’re certainly not wrong lmao)

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?: (fucking die— oh ig it’s too late (/j, tbh idk what to put for this lmaooo)

[sinnohshocker]

[]

[cebwrites]

Hello hello! Always nice to see more one piece x reader blogs 😎💕 would love to request Barto, Zoro and Kidd, if it's okay if not only Barto, reacting to a s/o (Gender neutral or female) who has a bad time experiencing their feelings for them so jn a spur of a moment thing they just kiss them and run away

hehe thank you for your request! things ended up getting really long so i separated the characters into different posts, enjoy everyone’s favorite chicken man on this one  💕 (although some parts i feel turned out to be a little ooc i got too into it to stop-)

Reacting to being kissed as a confession (Bartolomeo)

fem reader (Kidd and Zoro’s reactions) word count: 0.8k

He’s confused, very confused

The tiny wheels and cogs in his brain are turning but their movement is very delayed by the short circuits that are currently going on in his poor little rooster head

By the time he regains his grip on reality, you’re far away from the captain’s quarters but can still hear his enthusiastic clucking all the way on the deck - you can’t quite make out what he’s saying but you’re in no headspace to figure that out right now anyway

You consider making a dive for the water, the one place Bartolomeo can’t follow you, but decide on the girl’s quarters instead - which in all fairness was just a spare room someone had slapped the sign ‘gurl’ spelled with a ‘z’ on when you boarded this sausagefest of a crew, but it was the principle of it all!

You hear your captain’s boots approach the door alongside his loud wails of, “__-saaaan, please talk to me!!” and reluctantly eye the window, weighing the pros and cons of actually going through something like that

For the sake of preventing any broken bones and the fact that Bartolomeo’s river of tears from his initial reaction had started to spill over into your room from the other side, you swing the door open to yell at him that fine, you will, if he knocked it off already

Instead you find the man standing perfectly composed, if not a little snot-nosed, patiently waiting your response; the shout withers in your throat before you can even get it out

“__-san! You-” he beams, lighting up immediately and you quickly usher him into your room with a slam of the door - as dramatic as your captain can be, you don’t want the details of your love life televised to the entire crew, at least not this early

You could already sense Gambia peeking around the corner of the hallway with a handful of other busy-bodies and make a note to clobber the lot of them later, once all of this... emotional junk is out of the way

You turn back to Bartolomeo from the unintentional hole you’d been trying to put in your door from glaring at it, sat on your bed twiddling his fingers

Even if the first burst of emotion from the inciting incident had faded, he still looked plenty nervous, bouncing his leg and avoiding eye contact like a schoolgirl confessing to her first crush - only that in this situation, you’d been doing the confessing

He looked like a puppy like that, gosh, your big bad “gang-leader-turned-pirate-captain” was mush for the people he loved and you couldn’t stand it he was too damn cute

“Yeah, I like you. So what?”

You crossed your arms and focused on a particular spot of mold on the floor so you wouldn’t have to look at the way Barto’s grin split his face, already aware that you were red all the way up to your ears from the heat that radiated from your face

Needless to say, prepare for this man to be absolutely insufferable (affectionate)

You could be swabbing the deck as per your usual chores when he comes up behind you and quite literally sweeps you off your feet. You may or may not elbow him in the face out of reflex but he laughs it off anyway. You’re his girlfriend! His sugar plum, his sweetums, his honey nut cheerio, his chicken nug--

Yeah, nicknames will be part of this arrangement. No, they’re probably non-negotiable.

He’ll get up all in a shopkeeper’s face if he thinks that they’ve made a move on you (could be touching your hand to “prolonged eye contact”) and 100% be that “sorry i can’t go, mY GIRLFRIEND--” (but in a ‘head over heels i’m so FUCKING in love guys’ kind of way and not a weird ‘i hate my spouse’ kind of way, he’s just excited to spent time with you) kind of guy

If you’re uncomfortable with overt PDA, he’ll try his best to accommodate, but you have to be very stern and clear with him. Bartolomeo means no ill will and the last thing he’d want to do is chase you away by being overbearing, but he just can’t help being overjoyed that he of all people managed to catch the eye of such a neat gal. He mellows with time I promise, it’s just going to be very gradual and he’s not very subtle in the first place

Bartolomeo is probably one of the most embarrassing men on the Grand Line when it comes to showing affection to his partners, I’m so sorry for you but also he loves you and will be the LAST bitch to ever think about not saying that. out loud. for the whole world to hear.

If y’all were together during Dressrosa he would’ve announced that his fight at the coloseum was in your honor he’s so embarrassing omg congrats tho  💕

[leprosycock]

If I’m trying to dip my toes into writing jlud fics, is there anything you think should be highlighted in their dynamic, I’ve never written real people before, so I’m worried they may come off as OOC

i think having a history of writing rpf in general does help you portray real people a little better, but even if you've only written fic based on movies or tv, then you really just have to study and think about the way real people talk. none of it is carefully orchestrated or prewritten or flowery or anything like that. real people use lots of filler words and phrases like "uh", "ah", "um", "like", "yeah", "i mean", "you know", so on and so forth. they stutter. they fumble. j stutters a lot, usually because he talks very quickly and his mouth can't keep up with his brain and he short-circuits when he's placed into unfamiliar situations.

a lot of people make the mistake that lud is inherently domineering and suave and super alpha and he always knows what he's doing, which isn't true. he's able to fake confidence VERY well and he tries to make up a lot of his personality so he can mask his vulnerability and sell himself as a product to others, but he's easily broken through because he wants SO badly to be loved and praised and coddled. at the same time, he also has the capacity to be very cruel and snide and shitty on purpose and he doesn't really care about hurting people's feelings. all of these spawn from him being a miserable, unstable, spoiled manchild. he's very mean to jrma in between glorifying him, constantly diving between these two extremes depending on his mood and what his current perception of jrma is. he acts out and expects everyone to put up with it and doesn't care when people don't. j usually puts up with it no matter what because he hates himself and needs so badly to stay in lud's good graces. unless he sees lud being mean to somebody else. then he'll scold him for it.

they absolutely and thoroughly adore each other and they've been following each other's exploits closely for years. lud has been watching jrma ever since he was at asu and jrma has been watching lud from a similar timeframe. the first time j ever shouted him out and thanked him for raids was all the way back in 2018. they're VERY familiar with each other from a voyeuristic standpoint; j listens to the yard and watches a fuckton of his streams and lud regularly looks up and watches jrma clips along with a bunch of his streams too. they both look up to each other so much. lud looks up to j because he sees him as a mentor, an artist, and a father/teacher figure, and j looks up to lud because he also sees him as an artist and so fucking cool and slick and handsome and he's awed by and jealous of the success he's achieved at such a young age. they both want very, very badly to be liked by each other but their own mental blocks that they have put in place makes it so that they can't see how crazy the other one is about them. j because he can't stand himself, and lud because he's constantly playing 4d chess with everyone in his life.

j is VERY needy, physically and emotionally, when they interact with each other in real life. he doesn't feel the need to interact with others or make more friends. he wants lud to be around him and talk to him and hype him up. and once they do find each other again, they talk easily and comfortably for ages and ages because they have a ton in common. they both seem to ignore the strange obstacles that both of them tend to throw up around each other because it's so much easier to be the best of friends than it is to talk about their feelings at all. they don't admit things to each other. they don't talk about things deeper. they just exist in each other's vicinities and grab at each other and try to steal pieces for themselves.

all in all, watch their streams and see how their relationship has developed over time and listen well. some key streams to watch are the replacement stream, bro v bro, name your price, juiced, beerio kart, and risk, because they're all wildly different and they all uniquely showcase aspects of their relationship that you can pull from.

[caffernnn]

Final stroke spoilers: ⚠️‼️

I just saw a post on Twitter about the Haru and Rin scene and how they didn’t feel that it was that ooc of Haru. I thought I was the only one who felt that it was kind of justified on Haru’s end. Because both Rin and Ikuya put Haru and their friends through so much when they were lost and wanted to swim with Haru again. And I get that professional swimming is entirely different than what they’re used to, but it really sucks that as soon as the competition got a little hard they decided to just drop free and only swim their preferred styles. That’s got to be a slap in the face to Haru, because what was all of that other stuff about? Like Rin wanted for YEARS for Haru to swim on the world stage and after the first race is like “you’re on your own.” He honestly deserves it to be honest even if Haru would’ve never said anything to protect their friendship he was clearly thinking or thought these thoughts. For a show where Haru is the mc we rarely get to see how he feels about things. I wish we can see the movie soon, cause I really wanna see how that whole sequence takes place.

⚠️ Talking about Free! Final Stroke spoilers below the cut ⚠️

It’s wild to me (it probably shouldn’t be surprising; idk) how even going off of just spoilers, there is a clear divide in the reactions people are having to Haru’s actions in the movie, especially in reference to the sudden shift leading up to the fight with Rin. I can see why people are surprised by it on a base level because so much of his successes in DttF, paired with the camaraderie everyone seems to have for a majority of the movie, leads you to believe Haru has emotionally matured and stabilized since high school, which is true! He’s more open to change and examining his emotions, especially as he starts to grapple with a high-stakes long-term goal for what feels like the first time. With that said, all of this can be true at the same time Haru is going through a steady breakdown that can/will likely lead to burnout. So many people who’ve been put through rigorous academic programs or career training or anything else equally as intensive can attest to the frustration of feeling like every few steps forward (gaining experiential knowledge, making connections, learning more about your identity in reference to x goal, etc) are followed by a step back (exhaustion, plateaus, expectations you can’t meet, mistakes spilling out when you can’t keep repressing the negatives in the name of “productivity”). Haru was able to make it this far because he has grown and started to heal some of the cracks in his support group, but the sheer amount of pressure makes it easier for him to break, and old wounds that never fully healed have time to fester.

I probably sound like a broken record in these movie-related posts when talking about Haru getting obsessed with becoming stronger and not knowing what to do with that fairly new and overwhelming drive. I can’t be mad at Haru completely for his choices here (can’t wait to be called a Haru apologist when the movie comes out in more places jfjdjd) because he partially fell victim to circumstance. This is one of the first times Haru takes the expectations of him being a “hero” or “prodigy” into consideration, and now he’s trying to navigate the expectations of success that come with those titles while not being sure 1) what exactly they are beyond winning, and 2) not being sure if they’re actually attainable for him. Along with that, he’s putting faith in Ryuuji’s instruction and guidance because he needs someone with any sort of credibility or experience with the pro circuit to show him how to get to the top. Even though from an outside standpoint it’s easier to discredit and reject Ryuuji’s assertion that everyone at the top has to give something up to get there, there are a number of reasons Haru reconsiders the notion with everything he’s seeing. He’s seeing his newest rivals reach crazy success and strength through isolation, and Ryuuji is dangling a golden opportunity in front of his face by going to Haru in the moments where he’s most vulnerable and saying “yes, that strength you crave is possible for you, but only if you pay this specific price for it.” Nobody should bear the weight of “saving” Haru from his circumstances (especially not his friends on their own journeys… Ryuuji and other mentors watching this trainwreck can eat my shorts tho), but dealing with this ultimatum while his core support group is pushing forward through their own challenges and/or busy in another country, I can’t be too surprised when he starts to overextend himself and burst at the seams.

As far as the blow-up with Rin, I won’t say it’s fully justified, but it’s understandable. The way Haru has had to make peace with his hardships with Ikuya and Rin has largely been by atoning for his own involvement in those rifts and trying to turn over a new leaf without expecting much in return. He took the opportunities of swimming with both of them again to replace any apologies on their parts and largely made peace with it. As much as it’s going to hurt to watch, I’m interested to see this fight play out because it sounds like it addresses a problem we bring up a lot in meta analyses posts: there needs to be more explicit conversations and apologies between characters, or the closure feels flimsy and temporary at best. This fight isn’t about closure (it’s about a lot of things both involving and excluding Rin, but I ranted about that in the other spoiler post) but it’s acknowledgement after all of this time that there’s still a need for it. Having Rin back in his life as a rival and friend has held the caveat in the back of his mind that Rin will leave his side again if Haru’s friendship/rivalry stops serving all of his interests. Haru’s ultimate fear of being abandoned by people, of people using him without understanding him and then throwing him aside for someone/something else, is drastically coming back to the surface in all of his stress. Rin and Ikuya choosing to continue their pro careers with strokes that better suit their strengths isn’t abandonment, just like Makoto choosing a university in Tokyo wasn’t, but Haru is so lost in his own stress and despair that he can’t see these choices as anything but personal attacks in the moment. These choices don’t have to do with Haru and we’re never meant to hurt him (which he comes to realize by the end of each fight), but the unresolved issues mixed with his fears make him explode.

It’s not a black and white situation where only one side is in the right, and I hope whatever resolution comes in the second movie acknowledges that. Rin didn’t deserve Haru’s taunting and wrath in that moment, but I do want him to reflect on the whole mess and recognize that Haru’s in a desperate place not unlike the one he was in when he first went to Australia and seemingly cut everyone off. I want them both to consider that avoiding airing out those insecurities because it’d be uncomfortable or embarrassing ultimately led them back here, unsure how to talk about changes and concerns without first having one of them explode or hit rock bottom. They can be friends outside of swimming, I’d want them to be friends outside of swimming, but I think Haru isn’t blind to how much of their connection is reliant on intrigue in the water, and a part of him is scared that Rin won’t have a reason to stick around if they aren’t rivaling each other in the same stroke anymore.

All of this can make for a great chance of resolution in the second movie, if done well. There’s opportunity for Haru to realize that the trajectory of dreams can change, and just like Rin changing his stroke or Makoto changing his training emphasis, you can honor the parts of the dream that first inspired you while finding a path that honors the person you’ve become. There’s opportunity for Haru to break from the dangerous echo chamber he’s currently in telling him he has to do this all alone in a few ways. Maybe he’ll have a moment where he’s like “I gave up everything and still couldn’t get stronger, so now I need to get back to finding what gives me strength personally.” Maybe he’ll have a moment where he’s like “if my only option is a path paved in loneliness, I need to find a new dream.” There are so many directions the story can go in at this point, and I’m excited to see what happens next (and maybe write about the paths they don’t choose lol).

[fiibonacci]

“ I LOVE THE SMELL OF GASOLINE; I LIGHT THE MATCH TO TASTE THE HEAT. I’VE ALWAYS LIKED TO PLAY WITH FIRE. “

[ kazuma mitchell, cis man, he/him ] ah, DONATELLO HAMATO from RISE OF THE TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES, a 19 year old TECHNICIAN! they’ve been with the company for ONE YEAR, and live in the JUBILANT JACKALOPE HALL, SUITE NUMBER 2420. they’ve shown themselves to be a BRILLIANT but ARROGANT person, and remind people of RIPTIDE BY GRANDSON. guests often remark that their vibes are THE SOFT GLOW OF PURPLE NEONS, BARED TEETH, and A DEVIL-MAY CARE ATTITUDE.

:|:| ooc || about tag || starter ideas || wanted connections || playlist || relationships || threads || pinterest board |:|:

trigger warnings: stalking, neglect, abuse

major spoilers: rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles season 1

broad backstory

If Donatello knew just how much history his family actually has, his brain would probably explode. As it is, all Donatello knows is that he and his brothers have been adopted. Twice.

The boys’ biological father was a famed actor, renowned for his fighting abilities & good looks. He immigrated from Japan, and became a massive hit in the B-movie circuit of America, producing dozens of movies, merchandise, & even liscensed martial arts studios. The conceited actor left a string of broken hearts all over Hollywood— and also several children. He didn’t want anything to do with them. Family was a mistake and just full of heartbreak, in his opinion. He had far better things to do.

The boys all eventually ended up in foster care as they either lost their mothers or were given up one by one— and one by one, they were taken in by a foster parent who knew more of them than he should. This foster parent was a disgraced scientist, having been told many times that his ideas were too far out there, and shouldn't be pursued. He had zero actual interest in children— they were gross, slimy things that cried too much.

But he saw an opportunity when he became aware via the front page of a tabloid, of the fact that a certain famous fighting actor supposedly had children who shared his DNA. The reporter had followed a string of letters sent to the actor, that had been thrown away immediately after reading them. The mothers had all refused to put a parent down on the birth certificates, so there was no proof besides the letters, and no one else cared enough to investigate. Though disgraced by the professional community, he still had friends in high places and through his significant influence, Draxum was able to unearth the whereabouts of each of the four children, and took them into his wardship.

Draxum pretended the part of a loving parent when in the presence of officials, but in reality, Donnie & his brothers were adopted by a cold man who wasn't very interested in them at all. Just the money he could get from the state, and the even larger money he could get through child support if he could prove their parentage like he'd planned. Unfortunately for him, he never got very far in his endeavours.

An experiment gone wrong triggered his home lab to explode, and the incident caused him to be deemed unfit to be a parent, when the eldest was just four. The boys were taken and placed back into foster care— but they weren't there for very long before being adopted.

This man who adopted them was kind, and genuine, and immediately loved the boys for exactly who they were, flaws and all. He didn't care about their heritage or their many behavioural issues they'd developed. Of course, this love for them was strengthened by the fact that they were in fact his biological sons. The actor’s most recent and beloved girlfriend had left him for being too absorbed in his career, and by the time he'd realized what a mistake he'd made skipping out on all of his family (not just his boys), he'd lost everyone. He thought they were gone forever, until the story of the explosion showed up in the papers, alongside a picture trying to entice someone to adopt them. Somehow, through a parent’s instinct, he just knew those were his four boys.

The pressure of his career had become too much, and now that he was going to be an actual father, he had taken on a new name and new life, and left it all behind. The government was unable to return the boys to any of the living parents— they refused to take their children back. But the unusual man named Splinter, who seemed a suitable candidate, was interested in keeping all four boys together and raising them with love, and thus was permitted to adopt them.

Immediately after getting approval, he packed up his boys and fled to New York City, far away from Hollywood. After hearing the sort of situation they had been living in with Draxum, and piecing together the pieces from some letters he’d received from him years ago, he feared for his sons' lives and welfare should the scientist ever find them again. He moved them to a busy and bustling city where none of them would stick out, kept them homeschooled, and kept them sequestered inside for most of their young lives, rarely letting them out without him. The boys didn't mind this— they had each other and they loved spending time with their father, but they grew up with next to no friends, aside from one very persistent April O'Neil whom Splinter eventually welcomed into the family like a daughter.

Ashamed of his past and the way he'd acted though, Splinter never told his sons he was their biological father. He let them grow up believing they were adopted, because it never made a difference to any of them. They were happy and content. His past and family came with far too much baggage that he did not want to subject his sons to. He felt like he was protecting them by leaving it out. Protecting them by leaving out what they had all missed out on due to his mistakes, from the nightmares they'd gone through before he'd changed his heart. He also feared what may happen if they found out his fame and if they began to pursue  it or any answers themselves. He knew he could not stop the inevitable if his boys were find out, and they would find out because they were curious souls, but he wanted to make sure they didn't know until they were old enough to use caution

There were many incidents throughout the years, though none were so big as the one that brought his sons into his life, until the day Splinter realized that Draxum had moved to NYC. Unwilling to take a chance, he packed up the boys and fled again, to an even more remote town called Verne Cove, and he made sure to pay off a resort owner very well in exchange for essentially living off the grid.

donnie-specific backstory

Fast forward to the present, and the four boys are all fairly well adjusted and vibrant young adults, with their own passions and interests.

Donnie had a frustrating time growing up— he was the only one out of his brothers who suffered an extreme injury during their time with their first foster father, and was often not allowed to participate in the boys’ rough-housing due to his bad back. He did so once, and strong little Raph was incredibly rough with him, like he was used to being with his other brothers. However, instead of making him laugh like it made Leo and Mikey laugh, Splinter ran into the room to Donnie screaming and his brothers sobbing, and that was the end of that for a few years.

This isolation caused Donnie to turn to books, musicals, and tinkering with stuff around the house to keep himself occupied. Occasionally he got to play with his brothers, like when Raph had tea parties with his teddies, Leo came into his room with an extra action figure, or Mikey dragged him out to sort through his box of crayons with him, but kids being kids, they couldn't help but play in high energy ways. Donnie had to get used to occupying himself, and as it turned out, he was pretty brilliant when it came to technical work. He created all sorts of interesting things for around the house, but still often watched wistfully as his brothers ran outside to climb trees in the park, and his father pat his head.

For his eighth birthday, something changed. He'd thought it was weird when his brothers hadn't gotten gifts on their preceding birthdays, but was shocked to find out that what they'd actually asked their father for was a way to play with Donnie. Splinter had saved up all the money he normally spent on their gifts, and bought Donnie his first protective back brace. It was designed to stabilize and prevent possible spinal overload from activity, giving Don the ability to be much more active than he previously was able to. It excited Don, and opened his eyes to possibilities, and after some research he quickly began improving on its design and crafting together pieces to supplement its protective ability, like the lightweight fiberglass backpack he typically wears. He was finally able to join in on his brothers' adventures, and while he's still stand-offish sometimes, nothing makes them happier than hanging out together. He’s still passionate about science, perhaps even more-so, because to him, the wonders of science are what helped him get some semblance of normal.

Donnie's backpacks are now typically more than just protective and contain some sort of tech, but thanks to the back brace allowing him to be more active and build up more core strength, carrying that around isn't a problem. He's still incredibly sensitive if he gets hit in the back while not wearing his brace, but with it and the specially designed backpacks, he can easily participate in the sparring sessions with his brothers and father.

deets

Donnie’s backpack tech varies, but his two tech staples are his wrist tech and his goggles he wears pushed up on the top of his head.

While all the brothers know ninjutsu, Donnie prefers to use his bō staff when sparring. So far they’ve never had much practical use for the martial arts, but their dad still insists they know it.

brothers headcanons

(( NOTE: these are my personal HCs for his relationships w/ his family and can definitely be changed if they’re picked up! mostly adding them to see if i can tempt anyone to come join the hamato clan. (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿) )) 

RAPHAEL (aka Raph, Raphaela )

Though Don ribs on Raph all the time, he truly does love and appreciate his big brother, and the way the guy protects them all both physically and emotionally. He knows Raph is especially gentle with him, because of the one time he accidentally hurt him when they were kids. It used to irk him when he was younger, particularly because Raph would try and prevent him from joining in on adventures even after getting his brace, but after he showed Raph he would take no shit and was coming anyway, the other stopped babying him so much. That said, he still can recognize when Raph is using his soft voice on him, and it makes him smile more often than not.

((note: I headcanon Raph as having anxiety just bc of his behaviour in the show but this can definitely be changed/ignored by whomever pick him up!)) As second oldest, Donnie has taken up the mantle of being Raph's "big brother" and keeps an eye out for him. Though he can be a little shit himself and probably doesn't help prevent it, Donnie's pretty good at recognizing when Raph's anxiety is acting up, and is usually right there with a teddy bear, a tablet playing a Jupiter Jim movie, and a blanket handy. Though Donnie is very easily bored due to his ADHD, he'll spend as long as Raph needs lounging with the other's head on his shoulder, cycling through the Jupiter Jim library.

Raph is quick to call out Donnie's middle child nonsense, and can sort-of-occasionally get him to listen to him.

LEONARDO (aka Leo, Leon, Nardo)

Like stereotypical twins, Donnie acts like being twins is the worst thing in the world, and often laments how he got stuck with such a prickish, overdramatic and attention-seeking brother (very much so a case of the pot calling the kettle black). However, Donnie loves Leo more than almost anyone in his family, and they get along shockingly well when Leo isn’t pushing Donnie’s buttons.

They aren’t actually twins at all, however when Leo found out they were the same age after being taken in by Draxum, he declared them twins because duh, they’re the same age, they gotta be twins. In reality they’re a few weeks apart, but they always celebrate their birthday together on Leo’s birthday. They still act exactly like typical twins though, down to the ‘psychic connection’ that most twins have.

Donnie is (usually) the more responsible one of the two when it comes to the safety and success of the entire group, and Leo is the more responsible one for Donnie’s welfare. He’s usually the first to notice that Donnie hasn’t slept in a few days or has had a diet consisting only of cheez-its and coffee mixed with energy drinks, and will physically drag Donnie to “movie night”. Which is just an excuse for Donnie to fall asleep within the first forty-five minutes. Leo can always tell when something’s up with him, and Don can do the same, however he’s less likely to act on it unless he has to, because of how much he hates having feelings. He’ll step in if it doesn’t sort itself out though.

The two very rarely actually fight— the household can count on one hand the number of times the two have actually gotten into it, and it’s always like a wildfire meeting a tornado, given how headstrong they both are.

MICHAELANGELO (aka Mikey, Michael, Angelo)

If anything happened to Mikey, Donnie would kill everyone in this room and then himself. Mikey is the ONE person who almost never sees Donnie’s bad temperament, mostly because Donnie finds it hard to have a bad attitude around the world’s brightest ray of sunshine. He’s pretty much the only one he’ll allow to hug him without warning, or hang out in his lab while he’s inventing. The only time the other gets on his nerves is when “baby-of-the-family” syndrome kicks in and Michael starts taking his stuff because he’s used to getting it anyway.

Though neither of them really recognize it, Mikey has Donnie wrapped around his little finger, and Donnie will go to ridiculous lengths to make sure Mikey is happy with whatever he’s wanting. Even if it means helping build an animal shelter for puppies that Donnie doesn’t even like.

As a result, Mikey has almost complete trust in Donnie, knowing the other won’t let him down.

APRIL O’NEIL (aka ‘Pril, President of the Dorky Palz 4 Life Club)

Effectively Donnie’s big sister and best friend, April gets to see Donnie with his walls down a lot more often than his brothers do. Donnie knows she’d never make fun of him (as brothers often do), and knows she feels just as alienated from other people as he does. His brothers all have bright personalities and no problems at all making friends, but Donnie’s too caustic and interested in odd stuff and April’s the weirdo of the neighborhood. Weirdos have to stick together.

Do not give these two the opportunity to roast you. You will regret it.

April doesn’t put up with a single ounce of Donnie’s bullshit, and is quick to call him out when he’s being unacceptable or shirking blame. Raph often doesn’t do this because he doesn’t like hurting Donnie’s feelings, and Splinter certainly doesn’t either, so sometimes she’s the first person to let him know he’s done something wrong. He actually tends to listen to her, surprisingly. Unless it’s regarding their opinions on fantasy. They’ve had actual blowup arguments on how much their opinions of the fantasy genre clash.

SPLINTER (aka Dad, Papa, Father)

Donnie’s relationship with his father is rough. He loves him, and definitely idolizes him, but it’s to the point where he doesn’t see the faults in him or recognize how his dad’s behaviour is hurting him.

Because of the family Splinter grew up in and the way he was raised, he doesn’t have the healthiest approach to family, and often unknowingly deprives his sons of the attention they want and need. Donnie seems to suffer the worst from this, desperate for approval and someone to say they’re proud of him. He can become obsessive when chasing that feeling, to the point his brothers think he’s just sucking up so he can be the favourite son of the week.

Despite all that, Donnie truly does love hanging out with his dad and thinks he’s the coolest, and will jump at the chance to do something with him.

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

In Her Arms | Ahsoka Tano x Fem!Reader | Star Wars

Notes: Lol I said only 1k per request but well... I got too invested xD I hope this is somewhat what you wanted :) Their relationship is rather platonic here, although it is implied both Ahsoka and the Reader are in love with each other, I hope that’s fine too.

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars

Warnings: Slight Self-Consciousness, Angst, Mention of Death, Slight OOC, Fluff

Summary: Y/N has a hard time dealing with the war and the problems that come with it, but Ahsoka, with whom she had a fall-out, approaches her and helps. 

Word Count: 2′334

Taglist: @jessigurl-design

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Being a Jedi was hard. Being 17 was hard too. 

Especially in times of war, where one saw more death and blood than a person should ever see. 

But she knew nothing else. 

Her padawan training began with the war, although that wasn't something she had liked. And she struggled because of it. 

Y/N couldn't handle the cries of her injured friends, the blood-curling screams when someone got shot, the stern and lifeless look in the eyes of the clones when they knew they had lost that one fight. 

Y/N struggled. 

And the worst part of it all was that her friends, who also went through the same horrible things, seemingly did not as much as she did. Of course, she wouldn't want anyone to go through the recurring nightmares, insomnia, and the exhausting days she had to experience in the last few weeks. 

But the fact that she seemed to be the only one who had such troubles adapting to life in war made her feel somewhat broken. 

She needed to be fixed. 

But her insecurities did not let her seek out the help she needed. 

Master is busy with the clones and battle strategies. The council... She doubted that the council would bother with her little anxiety attack. And her friends, especially a certain Togruta... She couldn't tell them either. After all, they were not that close anymore. 

The times of giggles, pranks, and late-night ghost stories were over. 

They would also not understand, because they were able to function well on the battlefield, unlike her. 

How many times did she drop her lightsaber in the middle of a battle already?! 

A loud groan escaped her lips, and she closed the datapad and leaned back in her seat. She ran her hands over her face and sighed. 

Once again, could she not find a better method to meditate. The archives were as vast as the sea on Kamino, but in her desperate times, there seemed to be no book that could help her. 

Y/N removed her card from the computer and then stood up. White dots swirled over her vision for a moment, her head felt dizzy, and she froze. What was that? She clenched her jaw. 

No, I'm fine. She told herself. 

But it was a lie. And she wasn't the only one who knew it.

-

"Why do I always have to do the things you don't want to do?"

"Because you are my padawan."

Anakin's laughing face made her scowl, but she wasn't that bothered with him sending her to the Archives of the temple. Mainly because she was able to see a dear friend of hers that she hadn't seen in a long time. 

In the last few days of research, Ahsoka had caught glimpses of Y/N, with whom she had shared a room and sometimes even a bed when she was part of the Clawmouse Clan. 

The girl was only slightly older than her, and they had been best friends when they had learned everything a youngling needed to know. 

Them becoming padawans changed their relationship, though, and they saw each other less and less. 

Ahsoka didn't really know why because they never addressed it, but she was sure it had something to do with her being Anakin's, The Chosen One's padawan. And the war obviously. 

Y/N's Master was also a Jedi Guardian, like Anakin himself, and they both fought at the frontlines of the war. 

When Ahsoka first heard about it, she was concerned about her friend's safety. 

Y/N L/N was never a person who she saw fighting against droids. 

Y/N was heartwarming, a little shy and quirky, but kind and more selfless than anyone she had ever met. Her place was not between dying clones and short-circuiting droids. 

Ahsoka had always believed that her dear friend would choose the route of becoming a Jedi Consular, a Healer, to be exact. Her gentleness and sunny attitude had seemed perfect for that path. But the war probably thwarted her plans. 

She wasn't sure, but she could imagine that the pressure of her peers accepting the guidance of a Jedi Guardian made her do the same, not that she thought Y/N's Master had been a bad choice. He was just a little too stern, a little too demanding, in her opinion. 

But what right did she have to say something? 

They were not that close anymore, and that fact hurt Ahsoka more than all the pain she had gone through during her time as a soldier.

"Hey, hey, if you really don't want to go, I'll take care of it. No need to make such a face, Snips." 

She snapped out of her thoughts, and Anakin observed her with a slightly guilty expression. 

"No, it's fine. Gonna go now, bye." 

Before her Master could say anything else, she already left the room. 

-

She arrived a few minutes later in the Archives, greeted Jocasta Nu, and then let her eyes roam across the giant halls. 

A familiar force presence flickered in the back, and Ahsoka determinedly walked over there. But with every step she took, her confidence faltered a little. 

We haven't talked in a while, what am I even going to tell her? "Hey Y/N, I miss you greatly and would love to talk about our time as younglings and maybe sleep in the same bed again and caress your hair", yeah of course. 

She abruptly stopped when another thought crossed her mind, and a blush swept across her face. 

Stop it! 

She shook her head to concentrate when she suddenly felt a wave of dread coming from the corner where her friend stayed. 

It hit Ahsoka like a brick, and her embarrassing thoughts stopped immediately. 

What...? 

Worry bubbled in her chest, the Togruta slowly walked closer to Y/N's location, and when she glanced around a shelf, she saw the girl hunched over a datapad. 

Ahsoka was momentarily distracted by the unkempt hair when Y/N groaned. 

It wasn't a "shit-I-don't-want-to-do-this"-groan, it was more like "I'm-exhausted-to-death"-one. 

She contemplated whether to step out of her hiding place and address the girl when she sighed again and then stood up. 

Ahsoka only watched as Y/N suddenly tensed and froze. Her breath shook, and the Togruta could see her shake hands before they clenched to fists and her friend hurried out of the library. 

Ahsoka stood unmoving behind the shelf, her eyes blinking slowly, her breath taken from the alarming anxiety in Y/N's force presence. 

She needed to research for their next planetary mission in the Outer Rim but when she caught a glimpse of the storm brooding in her beloved friend's mind, she could not disregard it. 

She followed the girl, her feet driven by her worries.

-

"Y/N?"

A soft knock on her door made the girl jump. What..? 

"Ahsoka?" 

Her voice clearly showed her surprise. 

The Togruta's response sounded a little awkward, but she ignored it, too busy calming her pounding heart. 

"Y-Yeah... Do you - uhh, have a moment to talk?" 

Talk? Talk about what? Does she... Has she realized..?! 

Panic emerged and clawed at her mind, it momentarily distracted her, and before she could even answer, her hand had already pressed the button to open the door to her room. 

She came face to face with Ahsoka, her former best friend now slightly taller than her in height. 

Y/N rubbed her eyes tiredly. Maybe, the Togruta before her was just her imagination? 

But the force presence of her friend was wrapping itself around her. 

Ahsoka looked formidable with her new robes. They complimented her skin tone and the blue of her montrals. 

Y/N forced herself to look Ahsoka in the eyes and smile, although it felt fake and probably also looked unnatural. 

"Hi", she greeted her weakly. 

"Can I come in?" 

They acted very awkwardly as if they hadn't bathed together before and talked about the cutest younglings in their classes. But how could they not? Their friendship had changed. 

Instead of answering, Y/N backed out off the door frame, and Ahsoka entered her room. 

She closed the door and then watched anxiously as the Togruta's eyes scanned everything as if to take a holographic photo. 

She realized that she once again hadn't made the bed, because she had been too tired to do it, and it had seemed like a bother. Then there were the various books about meditating. They stacked next to her cot and towered over her nightstand. 

Her spare clothes laid scattered across the floor, and the robe from last week still hadn't been washed. The brown bloodstains looked unsightly on the beige robe. 

She sighed inwardly. That's not how she wanted to present herself especially not to Ahso - a hand suddenly grabbed hers. When Y/N looked up, her eyes meet blue. 

"Were you hurt? Did you get injured?!" 

She blinked. 

"Wha-What?" 

Ahsoka's face was suddenly way too close to hers, and she breathed in shakily. The Togruta's eyes were unwavering.

"There's blood on your robes." 

Oh. She saw them. 

Her mouth was too dry for her to speak, so she only shook her head. 

No, she wasn't injured, that blood belonged to a clone. She was fine.

"But you are hurting." 

These words resounded way louder in her head than they were actually said. 

Ahsoka's tone was soft. It was neither a question nor an accusation. Only a statement. 

It was true. 

The fact that her friend, whom she had not seen in a long time, could guess her emotional state with just a glance shook her to her core. 

Silence reigned over them, her friend waited for her to speak, but she couldn't. 

Y/N breathed out slowly, and she freed herself from the Togrutas grip, her hands now holding herself as if she would break if she didn't. 

She gasped for air before she squeezed out from her lips: 

"I'm- I'm just so tired." 

Her eyes avoided Ahsoka's, and she faltered. 

Her knees suddenly felt too weak, she stumbled, but before she could fall, two warm hands grabbed her and brought her into Ahsoka's arms. 

Her whole weight was supported by the other girl, and they sank to the floor. 

Y/N was tense at first. When was the last time she had such close contact with anyone, especially Ahsoka? It must have been years. 

That thought, the warmth from the embrace of the Togruta, and her desperation caused her eyes to water. In a matter of seconds, tears rushed across her cheeks, and she soaked Ahsoka's shirt. 

A sob escaped her lips, and the other padawan pressed her closer to herself. 

"I got you, Y/N. You hear me? You're not alone." 

-

That her heart wasn't pounding loudly would be a lie. 

Such close physical contact with the person she liked caused butterflies to explode in her chest, but the Togruta ignored them, her concern for her friend too deep to abuse that moment of intimacy. 

She had a general idea of what Y/N meant with being tired. 

She knew how exhausting the war was, and also wanted it to finally come to an end. 

But for her it was different. She had Anakin and Obi-Wan as pillars. They were her emotional support, and she could always talk with them about her worries. 

It hurt Ahsoka to admit it, but it seemed like Y/N did not see her as that kind of support for her. 

She knew the girl was always kind to others, sometimes too kind, and too selfless. Maybe she believed that she would inconvenience others if she told them about her worries. 

Her grip tightened around the waist of her friend, and she bit her lips. 

Please no. 

Was she really that kind of a bad friend? How could she not notice? 

Guilt panged in her chest, and she ran her fingers through Y/N's hair. Her shirt got wetter and wetter, and with every teardrop, her determination grew. 

"Y/N?", she asked carefully. 

The girl in her arms shifted, and Y/N looked up at her, her eyes and cheeks red, clearly embarrassed. 

"I'm sorry", she croaked, Ahsoka wanted to hold her against her chest again, but she stopped herself and whispered: 

"You can tell me everything you know? I'm always here for you. You can take your time, but please don't shut me out. I want to know how you feel. I want you to be happy, okay?" 

Her voice slightly trembled when she said the last part and her eyes began to sting. 

The girl's eyes turned round and then, Ahsoka could watch it like slow-motion, the corner of her lips lifted, and she presented one of her signature smiles. Slightly weaker, slightly less happy, but still giving hope as always. 

"Okay. I'll... I'll tell you... But not right now. I'm... I feel like I’m able to sleep now. I had trouble doing it for a few weeks now, and I- I just get these nightmares and..." 

A worried expression swept across Y/N's face again and Ahsoka grabbed her cheeks. She stared at her with wide eyes. “You said tomorrow, right? It’ll be fine if we talk about it tomorrow. No need to stress now.” She smiled to reassure her. Ahsoka breathed out slowly and then muttered:

"If you want some emotional support...", her face burned when she said that, "should I stay with you?"

The padawan bit her lips and then nodded shyly. 

Ahsoka blessed the force, and they stood up together and moved to Y/N's bed. 

Her friend slipped under the covers, ignoring the fact that she still wore her outer robes and lifted the covers welcomingly for her. Ahsoka took her boots off and joined her. 

Two arms slung around her, and her heart sped up again when Y/N snuggled closer to her. 

She laid still for a while, tense, with a fast heartbeat, but with a small grin on her lips. 

"Y/N?" 

Maybe she could tell her friend one day. How much she liked her. So much that it would break her if the other was unhappy and suffering. Y/N’s happiness meant the world for her.

Instead of a response, she heard a soft snore coming from her chest, and Ahsoka smiled. 

If she could ease her friend's worries, she would gladly be a body pillow for the rest of her life. 

She pressed a light kiss on Y/N's hair. 

"May tomorrow be a better day for you, because I’ll help you." 

[asktheheirofslytherin]

OOC: checking in

[[OOC: Hello all! I am just checking in to make sure everyone is ok. I am operating under the assumption that at least some of you are experiencing dangerously cold temperatures that you are not used to right now. 

I know there are many cold-weather advice posts on tumblr right now, so I’ll keep this short, but as someone who has lived their entire life in places where the temps dip into the single digits (F) each winter, and I saw some posts that highlighted things I didn’t even think of as worth mentioning (due to my own ignorance - I fell into the “common sense�� trap at first, which is silly because how can something be common sense if you never experienced it?) I’ll provide some tips:

Driving and Cars!

- Bridges and other elevated paved surfaces freeze faster than the main road. 

- Black ice - the road looks wet, but it’s too cold for water! Yeah, that’s all ice. (White ice is less slippery and more visible. It’s usually already being broken up, has dirt and air and stuff mixed in, etc, so it’s less dangerous)

- if your driveway and sidewalk and stairs are coated in ice, salt, sand, and/or kitty litter will help melt it and help you gain traction! Where I am from, people are known to keep sand or cat litter in our cars in case we get stuck somewhere.

- I saw an amazing post warning ya’ll about the automatic break system. When your car slides on ice, it kicks in, sounds awful, makes your car shake, and can be alarming if you never felt it before. This is actually the intended effect. 

- Drive slower. Pump your breaks going downhill. A quick slam will just send you careening off into the void. 

- if you have snow on top of your car, please clear it off before driving! that shit can fly off and land on the windshield of the car behind you, and oop now they can’t see!

Being Warm:

- L a y e r s. 

- Honestly layers. I’ll keep this short b/c most of the help posts on here are about staying warm. But make sure the bottom layer is wicking like a athletic shirt or something. Or polyester. Just not cotton. 

- Socks! I have seen posts saying you can put on as many socks as you want, but I’ve always heard you gotta put on a thin pair and then a thick pair, and anything else actually cuts off circulation and makes it worse? Is that a myth? 

Your House/Apt:

- If you have water, keep the faucet to a steady drip when not in use to prevent the pipes from freezing and bursting

- close the curtains to prevent drafts. I actually hang up curtains in the doorway separating my entryway to the rest of the house for extra draft protection in the winter. I dunno how insulated ya’lls houses are so I’m just assuming the worst here. 

- Sometimes it can get so cold that the condensation on the INSIDE of the window turns to ice. This happened in my shitty college dorms a lot and it was a huge joke. 

- if you have electricity and are utilizing space heaters - too many things going can blow a fuse/short a circuit. (Throwback to shitty college dorm days - if the whole wing lost power, you hunted down the person with the offending space heaters and defenestrated them)

- Do you guys have access to those weird plastic things you can put over windows to prevent cold from coming in? I suppose Amazon if local places dont have them.

I hope this is at least mildly helpful! Stay safe!]

[scavengerfive]

An Ornament Hung

Another year, another Abel Secret Santa fic. I went a bit overboard with this one, but I hope @when-sanpape-arts enjoys their Secret Santa gift. Sam wasn’t the best beta last time, so I got Maggie and Rajit to help me this year. Still, without any good proofreading softwares on Rofflenet, there was only so much we could do.

I would like to thank @runnerzero, @notforconsumption, and @goblinsharkz for putting all of this together and posting it on the Noticeboard (did Janine clear it?).

This takes place in some obscure limbo of my first year in Abel (OOC: though there are some mentions of future characters - though no real spoilers). Merry Christmas! Hpappy Holidays! Enjoy before my neuroticism kicks in, and I start editing every single mistake I spot.

Summary: You're not quite sure if you believe he is who he says he is, but he does have the laugh and the sleigh. Plus, his reindeer almost ran you over. He needs your help to save Christmas, but you're leaving it up to him to convince Janine because you'd rather not have latrine duty... again.

---

“Good job, Five!” Sam crowed after you exited the shop, shoving the doors shut behind you and quickly pushing over a pile of molding wooden beams to block them. “That should keep those zombs from following you. Did you get the supplies?”

You tapped the headset twice and looked down at your bag, holding it open so your head cam could see the inside, then you took off, keeping an eye out for any stray zombies that had splintered off from the horde you had just trapped. You hadn’t expected them to follow you in, but you made sure they couldn’t follow you out.

“Fantastic! Come on home then, Five,” Sam continued. “You did magnificent today. I’m sure I can convince Rajit to let you have a hot shower when you get back. Just go on right ahead and make a right when you get to the sign up the road. Head due west. You shouldn’t run into anything too big. Maybe a few shamblers, but you can stay ahead of them, right, Five?”

You tapped three times this time and beamed when he laughed.

“Cheeky, Five. Now, just ahead, you might have to--hold on, what’s this? I see something on the scanner… I can’t--wait--no… I don’t--hey, Five. Do me a favor and take the next two lefts and head towards the block of flats by the old theatre. I need your eyes--well, your head cam’s eyes--eye? Just--turn here.”

You knew Abel was the other way, but you trusted Sam and followed his directions without hesitation. It looked like something interesting caught his attention, and his curiosity demanded to be satiated, using you as its vessel. Not that you minded, and now, you were intrigued as well.

As you approached the flats, you could hear the ambient moans of zombies growing louder as you neared, and you took extra care to be quiet and stealthy in case you stumbled upon any. You crouched by a wall, sliding along it. Your nose had just about grown numb to the rancid scent on the wind, yet you had to swallow back a gag nonetheless.

There was an unfamiliar panting and grunting noise also gaining volume as you stalked towards the junction. You leaned forward to peek. The scattering of pebbles and sounds of clopping and, strangely, bells were your only warnings before a brown form barreled around the corner. You jumped back, tripped over a crack in the pavement, and fell on your bum, scrapping your palm on the rough ground.

“Five?” Sam called, sounding baffled. “Was that--was that a reindeer?”

Your head whipped around, and you caught sight of the tailend of the creature before it disappeared down the road. You tapped twice.

“Last time I checked, reindeer were not a native species in these parts. Perhaps, it escaped a zoo--or a sanctuary. Do we have any of those near here? And--am I mistaken, or did it have bells on it?”

You pushed yourself to your feet and jogged around the junction in the direction where the reindeer had come from. You could definitely hear more than a few zombies ahead.

“It should be just ahead, Five,” Sam said as you skulked. “I can see a horde of zombies surrounding a house. I think there is someone trapped on the roof. They might need help. Think you’re up for it?”

Tapping twice, you sped up, following the moans.

“Um… Five? Is that--is that a sleigh? On its side?”

Yes. Yes, it was. It was tipped over on its side, one of its runners up in the air. The red painted wood was scratched and splintering in spots, and there were reins from the front rail piled on the ground, torn or unhooked. A red sack was tumbled out of the back, deflated on the ground.

“Oh, no. Tell me you’re not about to be chased by zombie Santa and his elves, Five,” Sam whined. “That would be so not holly jolly.”

You prodded the bag with your foot. It seemed to be empty, and you contemplated picking it up when you heard a deep voice bellow over the moans of the zombies just out of sight.

“Oh, ho, ho, no! Dasher! Dancer! Prancer! Vixen! Come back here! Comet! Cupid! Donder! Blitze--where is Blitzen? Comet? Where is-- no! Back here! Chocolate fudge!”

You easily found the owner of the voice, and… Sam wasn’t too far off. A crowd of maybe fifteen zombies or so surrounded a two story house, its front door broken open. You suspected some may be inside, but the ones outside had their attention fixed upward where a familiar (in reputation) figure was on the roof. He limped along the edge of the roof, scratching his great white beard. His other hand was clutching a red hat with a white poof at the end, an accessory to the bright suit he wore over his rotund frame.

Your brain short circuited, but where you were rebooting, Sam was freaking out.

“Five! It can’t be! No! Come on!” he denied before flipping completely the other way. “Santa! It’s Santa! Five, that’s Santa! The Kris Kringle Saint Nick Santa! Surrounded by zombies! Santa is surrounded by zombies! Santa is about to be bitten by zombies and turned into a zombie! Father Christmas is about to be zombied!”

The radio operator inhaled loudly, reclaiming the air he had expelled with that breathless outpour.

“Five, you have to save him! If he dies, Christmas is over! You have to save Christmas!”

You tapped four times, and Sam quieted, letting you focus. You didn’t have time to think too hard on whatever was happening or who exactly you were seeing, but you did know how to help someone in a crisis like this. This was familiar.

You pulled out your noisemaker and turned it on before leaving your cover. Zombies were immediately attracted to the newer, more persistent noise, and you soon had a tail that you began to lead away from the house.

“Cut through those two building, Five,” Sam directed, sounding a bit calmer, falling into routine, but he still had a manic tinge to his voice. “If you hop that fence, you can lose them and circle back! Yes, that one. Oh, brilliant, Five! You went right over it. No problem. Okay, left around this house, and back to… Santa. Santa! Five!”

Four taps as you made your way back to the house, noisemaker off and back in your pocket.

“...but it’s Santa Claus, Five. Okay. Okay. I’ll calm down.”

The… man was still on the roof when you approached it. There were about two zombies still persistently moaning up at him. You unclipped your bat, and sneaking up on one, you whacked it from behind, nearly taking its whole head off. The body squelched on the ground, and you quickly dispatched the next one that turned to you. It was over in seconds.

“Oh, hello, Runner Five!”

You looked up at the greeting.

“...you know Santa, Five?”

Sam had no right sounding that betrayed, and you were just confused. How did he know who you were?

“It seems you are here to help me out of this pickle I’ve got myself in,” Santa (?) said jovially, like he wasn’t trapped on a roof. “I’m afraid I cannot get down the same way I got up. My ride seems to have suffered a--tragic accident. By the way, have you seen any reindeer? They wandered off.”

“...no. No way,” Sam exclaimed.

You just--you couldn’t--you walked around the house, locating a small shed by the back. You pushed at the door, the swollen wood resisting a bit before giving. Holding your bat at ready, you slipped in. It smelled musty rather than decaying, and you saw a few abandoned tools and supplies which you began to pack into your bag, wishing you had collected that sack (Santa’s sack?). There was a ladder like you had hoped, and you grasped it, lifting slash dragging it behind you.

“Ah, yes. That should work brilliantly,” Santa said as you reappeared, not looking the slightest bit concerned that you had abandoned him. “You are a clever one, aren’t you?”

You extended the ladder and leaned it against the side of the house, holding its side to steady it. “Santa” moved slowly, swinging a leg onto a rung and working his way down the ladder until he was on the ground again--like a normal person--not that this was the first person you’ve seen on a roof--but his roof activity had implications that didn’t just involve being trapped by the undead.

You backed up as he brushed his suit off and plopped his hat back on his head, eyeing him warily.

“Five?” Sam called quietly. “Does he really have ruddy cheeks?”

...who didn’t in this weather?

“Runner Five,” Santa said in a deep, warm voice with a great big smile. “I am so grateful you came along to help me. I must say I found myself quite puzzled on how to get myself out of that situation.”

“Does this mean you are on the Nice List?” Sam asked, then gasped. “Five, ask him if he has a Nice List? Am I on it?”

You tapped three times, and "Santa’s" gaze followed your hand as it dropped. He looked intrigued.

“Oh, is that Sam?” he asked, eyes studying the headset.

You froze while Sam squeed.

“HE KNOWS MY NAME!”

“Mr. Yao, what is going on in here?”

“Oh-um, Janine…”

“Why isn’t Five back yet with the equipment?”

“Um--you see--the thing is, Janine--that--”

You gestured at "Santa" to follow, and he started limping after you. Now that he was on ground level, you could see a wound through his torn trousers's left leg, but you couldn't see what kind. Nowadays, it was really important to know the cause. You stopped, unwilling to risk it. He looked at you expantantly, and you gestured at his leg.

"Ah, this old thing? Well, not old," "Santa" amended, both of you clearly seeing the still drying blood. "One of the runners of my sleigh caught my leg when my reindeer startled and took off without me. They're still not used to the current state of things unfortunately and can be quite skittish."

...whatever.

“Mr. Yao," Janine pushed, and you could almost hear her arms-crossed stance of pure intimidation.

“...Five just saved Santa!" Sam broke.

"...what? Mr. Yao, must I remind you that Santa Claus is not real?"

"Have you seen my sleigh by the way? Or any of my reindeer?" "Santa" asked, once again tailing you as you headed back towards where you had originally come and towards Abel. "I will be needing them if I am to fulfill my seasonal duty and get back home."

He was really committing to the role, wasn't he? Though, you had to give him points. You were almost run over by a reindeer.

"Uh-Five just sa--look for yourself!" Sam exclaimed at his wit’s end. “Five, look at him again.”

There was a rustling, and you turned your head, making sure your head cam was facing “Santa”. He waved.

“Hello, Janey,” he greeted, beaming. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? How is little Tommy doing? Haven’t heard from you two in a long time.”

Sam’s sounds were pitched and incoherent, but Janine’s voice, low and tight, was clear, and you suppressed a shiver.

“Bring him in, Runner Five,” she ordered. “I would like to have a chat with him.”

“Janine! You cannot interrogate Santa!”

“Oh…” Santa breathed when you led him around the junction, and he spotted his sleigh. “Oh, dear.”

He limped over to it, and you followed after him, keeping an eye out for any of the zombies you had led astray earlier. Sam was supposed to be your eyes in the sky, your guy in the chair, but he clearly was trying to wrap his mind around this situation. You understood Janine’s wariness because you were too. How did this stranger not only know who was on the other side of the link but also all of their names?

“Who’s Tom?” Sam asked.

“No one. Forget you ever heard that name. Get Runner Five home.”

“...and she is gone,” Sam said after a pause. “An open book, isn’t she, Five?”

“Santa” caressed the side of the sleigh, his gloves catching on the splinters, and he pulled back. For the first time since you’d encountered him, he looked somber. You watched him walk around it then slowly crouch to examine the reins. He grasped a torn end, frowning. Abruptly, he dropped it and stood, brushing off his gloves and smiling at you.

“I suppose I must go with you to Abel,” he said, bending over to pick up the red sack by the sleigh and throw it over his shoulder. “It was one of my stops. I think I’m going to need your runners’ help.”

Sam inhaled, and you buckled in for his next outburst.

---

Despite his bum leg, “Santa” managed to keep up with you (after you slowed down a bit). As Sam yelled, “Raise the gates!”, you and “Santa” passed under a hail of bullets and through the outer gate. As the siren blared and quieted, a guard stepped forward to do your bite checks, eyeing “Santa” with bewilderment.

“Hello, George,” “Santa” said with a warm smile. “Is Lizzie doing well?”

George stopped in the middle of your examination and stared wide-eyed at the “Santa”. So did you.

“How-how-do I know you?” George sputtered, half between reaching for his weapon, but he looked more confused than hostile.

“Not as well as you used to, but Lizzie did mention that she was worried about you since her mum got hurt.”

“How--when have you spoken to my daughter?”

You caught George before he could get too close to “Santa”, and another guard steped forward to guide him back.

“Thank you, John,” “...Santa?” said offhandedly, looking at George. “I haven’t had the pleasure of talking with the young lady, but she still wrote a letter this year despite the apocalypse.”

“You expect me to believe you’re actually Santa Claus?”

As usual, some people were drawn by the gate sirens, curious to see who was out of the township and what they brought back, but instead of wandering off, they stopped to stare, calling over other people until a small muttering crowd was beginning to form. It’s not everyday that Santa comes to town.

“I don’t expect belief from anyone,” “Santa?” said, unmoved by the tension. “I am who I am. Hello, Sam!”

You turned to see the radio operator squeezing his way through the crowd, his headset hanging off center around his neck. He forced himself through, stumbling forward as he pulled himself free. Stopping, he stared, eyes wide.

“...Santa?” Sam called out tentatively, clutching his hoodie.

“It’s good to see you, Sam,” “Santa (...what?)” said kindly. “I’m sorry to hear about your engineering degree, but I’m glad you’re putting your interests to use to help your friends.”

Sam lit up and rushed forward.

“I--it’s nothing really,” he said, suddenly bashful. “I just talk people’s ears off and hopefully get them out of trouble.”

“Sam, don’t tell me you believe him,” George said incredulously, still glaring at “...Santa”.

“I mean--look at him,” Sam said, gesturing at “Santa (...?)”. “And Five found his sleigh and almost got ran over by a reindeer. Tell them, Five!”

You flashed a thumbs up when the guards looked for confirmation.

“He was probably a mall Santa,” George countered.

“Or just crazy,” John added quietly, speaking up for the first time.

“Mr. Jones and Mr. Monroe, did you finish conducting the routine bite checks?” Janine’s stern voice cut through.

The two men startled to see Janine who had somehow managed to sneak up on all of them. “Santa (...)” smiled cheerfully at her.

“No, ma’am,” George mumbled.

“Get to it then.”

John dealt with “Santa (... …)” while George finished up your examination, all the while Janine watched with Sam buzzing next to her.

“Mr…?” Janine prompted as you both were cleared, and you handed over your bag to have the supplies emptied and sorted.

“Claus,” “Santa (...?)” supplied. “Or Kringle if you’d rather. I do prefer Kris.”

You could roll with that. Kris was shameless in the face of Janine’s disapproval, but it’s not like she could make him say otherwise.

“Mr. Kringle,” Janine said, her face twitching, but she maintained her cool demeanor. “I would like to have a private word with you.”

“I usually wouldn’t deny your request,” Kris started, “but I must say I have an urgent matter that I would like to discuss that I do not believe we would have time to get to if I allow you to question me.”

“And what is that?”

“I am incapable of completing my route without my sleigh and my reindeers, and I believe I need the help of your runners to complete my task.”

“You must be joking. Are you suggesting--?”

“Janey--um, Ms. de Luca,” Kris interrupted, correcting upon receiving Janine’s death glare. “I would not joke about such a matter. It is my job to maintain hope in this season, and with the world in such a state, it is ever more critical that Christmas--”

“Mr. Kringle! I do not have tim--”

“Must I prove it then?” Kris said, his gaze sharp.

Janine opened her mouth then closed it after a moment of deliberation. Folding her arms, she shifted her weight onto one leg, hip jutting, and gestured at him to continue. The small crowd had grown larger and nearer, eager to see the outcome of this. You could see Jody pushing her way to the front with Simon just behind.

“I usually depend on the unconditional belief of children and the few older True Believers,” Kris said, glancing at Sam for a moment who saw the look and gasped. “But if I must make you believe to gain your help, so be it. Runner Five, please take this.”

You grasped the sack he handed you. It was light and, looking in, appeared to be empty. Kris rubbed his hands together then reached into the bag, pulling out a wrapped box that was definitely not in there before. Your jaw dropped.

Peering at the name on the little card, Kris called, “Molly Harrison.”

There was a pause before you heard Ed shout out, “No, Molly! Come back!”

The little girl appeared, pushing through the legs of the larger folks around her. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold under her wide eyes that stared up at Kris. She toddled forward, clutching Mr. Rabbit in her arms, just as her father caught up, swinging her up in his arms despite her squirming to get away.

“Ed,” Kris greeted, stepping closer carefully and holding out the box. “I’m sorry about Becca.”

Ed scowled but took the gift, looking around at everyone watching him.

“And what’s this then?”

“Something for Molly and Mr. Rabbit.”

Ed did a double take, scrutinizing Kris before putting his daughter down. When he was sure she wasn’t going to run off, her mood shifting towards bashful as she clutched her father’s trousers, hiding behind them, he unwrapped the box. He pulled out a knitted hat, turning it over before freezing.

“Where did you get this?” Ed breathed tightly.

Sam perked up like you while Janine shifted subtly forward to see what was off. It was a knitted blue cap Molly’s size with a white “M” woven into it.

“She started it early,” Kris said gently. “She needed to keep her hands busy, but she didn’t get to finish Mr. Rabbit’s, so I did the honors.”

“Mr. Harrison,” Janine prompted after Ed stared at Kris for so long.

“Um--it’s Becca’s work,” he said, having to clear his throat a few times. “She made me one just like this a few years ago, with an “E”, you know--for um Ed... and she said she wanted to make one for Molly because it would get cold, and she didn’t want the cold to get Molly anymore than dem zombs.”

He swallowed, looking down at Molly who was toying with his trousers, obliviously gnawing on her stuffed rabbit’s ear. He turned the hat inside out and pointed at the thread.

“Here. You see this knot,” Ed said. “Even though you’re not really supposed to, she always knots the end three times after she weaves the finishing stitch back in just to make sure it won’t come loose… I know this is her work, but I haven’t seen it before.”

The box was tilted enough in his slack grip to show a smaller matching hat with an embroidered “R”.

“Five,” Kris called, keeping a gentle eye on Ed, and you stepped forward. “I usually don’t have gifts for adults, barring a few, but I thought this year needed to be extra special.”

Kris reached into the definitely empty sack and pulled out a smaller box (f-ck that), handing it to Ed who took it after staring at it for a few seconds. He didn’t hesitate to open this one, and he revealed a few compact disc cases, newer looking than anything you’ve seen in a while. You could see race cars on the cover.

“How…” Ed trailed off, and he looked at Kris with a look of growing awe and disbelief. “You can’t be.”

Kris grinned, tapping his nose. A slow smile crossed Ed’s face before he let out an abrupt laugh, shaking his head. You ignored Sam repeatedly slapping your arm, incoherently squealing under his breath.

“I think I’m going crazy,” Ed muttered then added a quiet, “Thank you,” with a small but sincere smile.

“Take care of this special girl,” Kris said.

Kris waved at Molly who waved back shyly, babbling and giggling. Ed packed all the gifts back into the larger box and picked up Molly, balancing everything and stepping back, still staring at Kris.

“A--an intriguing display, Mr. Kringle,” Janine said slowly. “However, I do not bel--”

“Not done yet, dear,” Kris interjected (casually missing her glare this time), reaching in the sack that you helpfully held up, curious to see where this was going.

“What he get you, mate?” you could hear Simon questioning Ed.

“Driving games. I… I told Jack and Eugene I wanted a few,” Ed muttered, pulling the knitted hat on over Molly’s head then one on Mr. Rabbit, much to the tot’s excitement.

“George, for you and Lizzie,” Kris said, tossing the gifts to the hovering guard then reaching in for more.

He started calling out names, and each person came forward, at first with caution and exchanged glances. But as gifts were unwrapped with shocked gasps or excited exclaims, there was less hesitation each time, an eager energy taking over the gathering. Rajit started crying when he unwrapped a professionally printed version of his novel. George stood stunned, clutching the doll Lizzie had been asking for and the old board game they used to play as a family on game nights.

“Okay, okay! Everyone calm down!” Janine yelled, dampening the growing cacophony. “Please move along.”

There were protests, but eventually everyone but the runners and Sam left (though people hovered nearby). Sam had his hood pulled tight over his head, vibrating in place. Janine turned to Kris who was waiting with a satisfied expression. She pinched her nose before looking heavenward.

“I--I cannot believe I am saying this, but um,” Janine managed before sighing. “...what do you need us to do, Mr. Kringle?”

Sam whooped.

---

“All right, Runners! Are you ready to save Christmas?” Sam said through your headset an hour later, his voice giddy.

No one had managed to calm him down since Kris asked if he could sit with him in the comms shack, his leg making him unable to help with the physical journey. You readjusted the red sack you had tossed over your shoulder, identical ones in the hands of the other runners. Kris had pulled more out of his original “dimensionally transcendental or perhaps it contains a transversable Einstein-Rosen wormhole--how do you keep it from collapsing without an infinite source of exotic matter--the implications it has on the modified theory of general relativity blah blah blah” (according to Chris who you ended up tuning out) “Magic Sack of Wonders” (according to Sam).

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Simon said through the comms link.

“Ready, Sam,” confirmed Jody.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Sara sighed, done with everything before it even started.

A cherry “Ready!” from Maggie, “Let’s get this done” from Evan, confusing muttering from Chris’s side of the link, and affirmations from the rest of the runners. You tapped twice, and the siren blared at Sam’s direction.

“Raise the gates!”

---

“So, what’s the plan, Sam?” Sara said minutes later after you and she split up from the other runners who had other settlements as their destinations. “One that won’t have New Canton shooting us down where we stand. Five and I are not exactly on their Nice List. Not after the stunts we pulled.”

Jody and Simon were heading to Brunswick, Maggie and Chris to Red Settlement, Fiona and Charlie to New Skoobs, and Evan and Bonnie were making the long journey to Mullins, planning on taking one of the motorbikes Ed had told them about for part of the journey.

“Um--you each have those tree ornaments S-Santa gave you?” Sam said, voice cracking.

“If you die from overexcitement on us...” Simon jokingly threatened through your headset.

The radio operator giggled manically then cleared his throat, quietly coaching himself to some level of calm under his breath.

“We’ve got them, Sam,” Jody responded.

“Good. Good. So, they, um--they’re magical ornaments, and they uh make people trust you more--am I getting that right, Santa?”

“Magic’s not real,” Chris muttered. “If anything, it would be complex scientific phenomena that we cannot yet explain. If I could ju--”

“Maybe later, Chr--uh Ten. Okay?” Maggie soothed, diverting him from another ramble.

The relief was shared and audible among you all, more than one sigh coming through the link.

“Call me Kris please, Sam,” Kris said before speaking to you all, casually over the wheeze of the radio operator. “They each contain a remnant of what some would call the Spirit of Christmas… or of the Holidays. When you turn them on, they should remind everyone in your vicinity of the holiday season, what it smells like, tastes like, sounds like to them.”

“You can’t be--”

“It’s okay, Chris. You can debate Santa later.”

“People tend to be calmer and more welcoming in response,” Kris continued, ignoring the interruptions. “Just don’t turn them on too soon, or you may find yourself too relaxed to react to threats in your environment, say… the zombies approaching Runner Seven’s projected route from the east. Sam?”

“Right, Sa-Kris,” Sam said, taking a breath before continuing. “Runner Seven, I need you to speed up. You should be able to pass ahead before they intersect you.”

“Got it, Sam,” Evan said. “Come on, girl. Let’s outrun some zombies.”

You heard Bonnie bark once excitedly, and the Head of Runners chuckled. You and Sara were making good time, and you figured you could be there and back before the sun set too much--assuming New Canton actually cooperated and didn’t--you know--mow you down with prejudice. Kris was humming under his breath, and you snickered when you recognized “Run, Rudolph, Run”.

“So… Kris,” Sam said after a few minutes, trying and failing to sound casual. Kris hemmed, and Sam continued, “Do you read all the letters sent to you every year?”

“As many as I can. I get quite a lot,” Kris said. “When I’m working, sometimes, I’ll have an elf read them outloud to me.”

“Really?”

Kris chuckled.

“Nah… I mean, not anymore. It’s not the Dark Ages--the original one anyways. I have an audio program on my computer that can read them to me.”

“Wow… Five, Eight, turn left up ahead. You’re almost to New Canton.”

“Can see it up on the hill,” Sara responded. “Ready on your mark.”

“Good. Wait until you are spotted.”

“Received.”

The old castle grew larger on the horizon, and you and Sara took a less direct route, hoping to get closer, so they could be in vocal range and not just rifle range.

“I’ve seen your letter on Rofflenet,” Kris said.

Sam choked, coughing. You tapped the headset once paused then twice.

“I’m fine, Five,” he assured, voice rough. “What do you mean? I didn’t--I haven’t written a letter in years--I mean--”

“Sam, I have received a letter from you every year since you’ve learned to write, and I’ve read every single one of them,” Kris said gently. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. There is nothing wrong with being a True Believer. It’s actually remarkable you’ve managed to hold onto your belief in the magic and joy of Christmas all these years.”

“My mum--she would help me write them when I was a kid,” Sam admitted. “And when I was older, she would ask me if I wrote mine yet. I thought I was too old to be writing to Santa, but she said you’d be sad if I stopped. I guess--I just…”

“I’m sorry about your parents, Sam, but I’m certain they’d be proud of you if they were here.”

There was a sharp, wet inhale before the line was cut from the comms shack. You looked at Sara, but she had her eyes forward, scanning the castle looming before you. You could just make out figures on the high walls when an intercom came to life.

“Runners from Abel Township! Stop where you are, or we will shoot to kill!” a soldier’s voice boomed over your heads. “You have some nerve coming this way again!”

“Five,” Sara called, pulling out her ornament and clutching it tightly. “Time to--oh, G-d. I can’t believe I’m about to say this.” She breathed. “Time to turn on our magical ornaments.”

You grinned at the pain in her voice, pulling your ornament until the halves separated. Turning them in opposite directions, you pushed them back together with a click. There was a pause. You held your breath.

The ornament began to light up, and you could hear the crackling of firewood and heady taste of cinnamon and apples coated your tongue. Your mouth started watering, chest panging as you took a deep breath filled with the strong scent of roasted pine cones.

“Do not make me repeat my--what…” the voice faltered. “What is…? Do you smell cookies, Tim? It’s… double chocolate chip and fudge. Just like my Nan’s… I--I haven’t smelled…”

The intercom died, and you could see figures converging before a few split off and disappeared below. The longer you stood there, the warmer your fingers felt, like when you would stretch them out over the flames. You heard a quiet sniff, but Sara was already turning away, a hand subtly brushing over her face. You looked forward again.

The intercom came on again.

“Abel Runners! Approach with your hands in the air! Guards will meet you at the gate! You better have a good reason for being here!”

“--aven’t heard this song since my pa--” another voice said in the background.

The intercom cut off, and you and Sara looked at each other before holding up your hands and walking forward.

---

It went--as well as one could expect. You endured the jeers from the guards that gave way to shock then confusion and elation as you did what had worked at Abel. When you reached into your “empty” bag, rifles aimed at you, you always found your fingers brushing one box more with the name of an individual present. When you handed it over to the suspicious recipient, you got to watch the skepticism melt away as their eyes widened, unbidden smiles breaking through.

Each reaction caused your smile to grow larger, a warm feeling filling you as eyes lit up. You were starting to get really into this, and you could even see Sara bantering with the guards and joining in with the teasing when guards got gifts that, though it was something they wanted, was a bit embarrassing to open up around their fellow colleagues.

“Do you have a central area where we can leave these, Robbie?” Sara asked the guard from the intercom who had a great sense of humor that didn’t come across when he was threatening to shoot… figures. “At this rate, we’ll be here all week.”

“This way,” Robbie said, a small smirk on his face as he dramatically bowed and gestured for you to proceed with him. “The mess hall should work. We just set up a tree some of our runners cut down. The kids are decorating it.”

People stepped aside as you passed by, watching with wariness or confusion as the guards around you joked and regaled you and Sara with some runner shenanigans or New Canton events. When someone drifted into your vicinity, they would pause, faces scrunching up as the magic of the ornaments enveloped them. Some would laugh, beam, look around wildly, or start to tear up. You gained a few followers, New Canton residents just as curious as Abel’s.

By the time you reached the mess hall, the crowd behind you was large. They spread out, filling up the room slowly as you and Sara headed towards the sizable tree surrounded by children who were attaching handmade decorations with the help of adults. You could see popcorn chains, paper ornaments, cotton, and more. It was haphazard but beautiful nonetheless.

The children looked up and backed away as they stared at all the people entering. Their minders pulled them closer when they recognized your Abel gear. You and Sara stood there in front of the tree, trying to decide your plan, ignoring the people muttering behind you. You kneeled down and started laying out gifts one by one, occasionally handing one to a curious child who had wandered over to see what you were doing, the gift always belonging to the person nearest you. However, you recognized a problem quickly, and so did Sara. She stepped back and turned on her transmitter.

“Sam, Kris,” she called. “We cannot pull these out one by one.”

“Turn your bags upside down,” Kris instructed. “Carefully.”

When both you and Sara did so, gifts came tumbling out. The voices around you got louder, people shouting and moving closer with each materialized box. You walked backwards, following the perimeter of the room, children rushing after you to pick up boxes and pile them closer to the tree. That allowed you to loop back.

Soon enough, large piles surrounded the tree even as people passed boxes around. Children were running around with their new toys and clothes, tugging at their parents’ sleeves. People gushed over their hammers, new boots, playing cards, and packets of hot cocoa. You saw more than one person crying over their half opened box, being consoled by someone else, but there was always a watery smile on their face. Laughter filled the room, the grim faces easing under more than the thrall of your ornament which was only a remnant of the Spirit of the Holidays, paling in comparison to the full joy and cheer that went beyond this room, spreading through the settlement.

You had more than one set of small arms wrap around your legs, and without malice or distrust, people greeted, thanked, and joked with you, handing you a cup of hot cider you sipped at carefully when you paused for a break.

You saw Sara examining a new knife a New Canton runner received, showing the younger woman a few moves. Robbie and Tim watched, their rifles abandoned on their backs as they asked questions or threw in some pointers. Someone had started singing some carols, and more and more people joined in, laughing over mis-sang or forgotten lyrics.

Even so, you knew there were more people than gifts you poured out. You tapped on Sara’s shoulder and held up your sack before miming it towards the people around you.

“Five wants to know if they can leave their sack with someone in New Canton,” Sara relayed. “I suspect there are more gifts to give.”

“The magic of the bags and ornaments end at midnight on Christmas night,” Kris said. “No harm leaving it behind.”

You flagged down a runner who had 20 on her armband.

“Hello. Hi. What’s this?” she said as you handed her sack. “Oh, you’re giving me your magic bag of endless presents. How exciting. I am curious to see how this works. It looks very empty, but I watched you pulling out box after box. Let’s see if I can do it too.”

She reached in, face lighting up as she felt something, and she pulled out a box. She squinted at it, turning it around in her hands until she found the card tucked under the bow.

“And it has my name on it! Archie Jensen. That’s brilliant. Can’t wait to see what’s in it. I wished for a lot of things.”

She tried to hand the sack back, but you held up your hands, shaking your head.

“What? You don’t want it back now?”

You shook your head again, and she frowned before realization dawned on her face.

“You have to go now, don’t you?” Archie asked, and she looked sad when you nodded. “Shame. Well… don’t get bitten or blown up or shot or who knows what else. I hope to see you again, Runner Five. Hopefully we won’t be trying to kill each other because our leaders are fighting again--like we aren’t all just trying to survive. Living killing the living while we have dead trying too.”

You held out a hand, but she pushed past it to hug you tight enough that you were certain your ribs shifted a bit.

“Bye, Five. Bye, Sara,” she said, clutching her box and the bag to her chest, beaming.

It was a while before you could really leave as people wanted to personally wish you well and happy holidays. Before you and Sara made your way out, you attached your frosted ornament to their tree and admired its soft glow.

“Let’s go, Five,” Sara said, Robbie waiting by her side.

You nodded, looking back once more before running towards them.

---

You and Sara turned your backs on New Canton, looking out at the setting sun.

“We should be able to make it back before dark if we’re quick, Five,” Sara assured. “We’re heading back out now, Sam.”

“All right. Head home, runners. You did great work today,” Sam said proudly. “Even zombies can’t stop Christmas.”

“Ho, ho, ho,” Kris chimed in. “Well said, Sam.”

Sara’s sack was also gone, but she still clutched her ornament for comfort or assurance--who knew. Your fingers still felt comfortably warm, and you could always catch a faint wisp of fresh pudding.

“Me and Four are finishing up here,” Simon reported, shouting over the sound of children laughing and people singing in his background. “We’ll leave once Jody digs herself out from under a pile of imps.”

The squeals pitched before he cut his transmission. Evan reported that he was nearing Mullins Base and would be staying overnight while Maggie and Chris were still at Red Settlement. Charlie and Fiona had just reached New Skoobs themselves, and they said they were probably staying there as well.

“So, Santa,” Simon spoke up when you and Sara were halfway back to Abel. “Got any presents waiting for us back at Abel? Us Runners must be on the top of your Nice List.”

“You, Simon Lauchlan, have been on my Naughty List since the day you released three pigs in your school when you were fifteen,” Kris said drily.

The comms link was flooded with laughter and jeers.

“Yeah, yeah,” Simon said, a smirk clear in his voice. “The ladies find it nice when I’m a little naughty.”

Your groan wasn’t alone. Charlie even booed.

“Did you really release pigs in your school, Three?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. It was a prank me and my mates pulled. We painted three pigs with 1, 2, and 4 and let them loose. It took them all day to catch them, but they spent a week looking for a fourth pig. It was worth getting my ears boxed by my mum when we got caught. Best prank I ever pulled. Still proud of it.”

“Of course you are,” Jody said, sounding out of breath.

There was a child screaming right by her microphone, causing you to wince.

“You alright there, Four?” Sam asked.

“Just finishing things up,” she said. “Be on our way back now, Sam.”

“Good. Goo--”

“Sam. Will you take a look at this?” Kris interjected.

“Let me see… oh. Uh oh. That’s--that’s not--Five, Eight. I don’t mean to alarm you, but well… about twenty zombies are converging on your location. I don’t understand--they’re coming from different directions. What is attracting them?”

You smiled at Sara, certain that Sam will figure it all out because he was really smart. Sara had a serene expression, and she winked at you. You giggled.

“...are you laughing, Five? Your laugh is lovely, but this is not the time to laugh. More are approaching. You and Eight need to speed up.”

You covered your mouth, but more chuckles escaped. Still, you did pick up the pace with Sara matching you. You could hear the whistling groans growing closer, but you focused on your warm fingers and roasted pine cones and warm pudding.

“They’re surrounding you two! There’s almost forty now,” Sam sounded more stressed than you thought was warranted. “What is happening?! Okay, okay. No need to panic. Five, Eight, you have a small window. Keep going the direction you’re heading, but you have to pick up the pace, or else they’ll cut you off.”

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Sara said warmly. “Five and I will be fine.”

You saw the zombies shambling out from behind buildings and trees, coming from all directions. There were a few in front of you, but you gave them a wide berth. The sound of their moans was thunderous.

“I would have to disagree… why do you sound so calm?” Sam asked as you ducked under a zombie’s arm.

“Sara, Five,” Kris called. “Did you turn off your ornaments?”

“Five left theirs at New Canton, but I still have mine. I didn’t want to risk those guards shooting us in the back, so I kept it on. Plus… it smells like sweet potato pie. It was my boys’ favorite.”

You wiggled your warm fingers.

“Do you think that’s what’s attracting the zombs, and why Eight and Five aren’t taking this seriously?” Sam asked.

“It’s definitely what’s keeping them so calm--too calm,” Kris said, “but I wasn’t aware of it having any effect on the undead.”

“Umm… I have a theory,” Chris piped up over the link. “You said the ornaments trigger sensory cues that people associate with festivity and the holidays. Could it be possible that they can tap into residual brain activity? Though the brains have mostly decayed, the zombies may still be drawn towards the source of the stimuli.”

“It’s… possible,” Kris granted. “Never had the chance to test it. It sounds reasonable.”

“Eight, turn off your ornament,” Sam ordered.

Sara hesitated but did so, and your fingers cooled, the scent of pudding giving way to rotting flesh. You jumped back as a zombie swung at you. You managed to stay on your feet and skirt around it.

“Sam!” Sara yelled. “We need an out. Now!”

“Just run!”

You could practically feel fingers brushing your back, and you swang your bat at a zombie reaching for you as Sara impaled one through the eye with her knife, a squelch following a wet smack.

“Ooh…” Sam cringed before crowing, “That’s what I call teamwork! Keep going though. You can’t fight them all.”

“Five?” Sara called. “Do you hear that?”

Through the moans and groans, you heard familiar bells and clopping. A great pair of antlers butted a zombie to the side, the reindeer shaking its head with a grunt. It scrapped its hoof on the ground, looking at you and Sara as you ran by it. You weaved and jumped through zombies, seeing your narrow path of escape closing by the second. You heard another squelch, and you had to behead your own zomb soon after.

“Hear what?” Sam asked anxiously.

“Just a bl--dy reindeer, Sam,” Sara panted, a painful sounding cough working its way out.

“Five, whistle at it,” Kris commanded. “Loud and clear.”

You did so, and you heard hooves clattering over pavement behind you. You glanced back to see the reindeer charging towards you, mowing down any zombies in its path. You suddenly heard more bells and hooves approaching, and a second reindeer then a third appeared, rounding the corner and running straight towards you and Sara.

“Five,” Kris started, but you already had a hand out as the antlers came up beside you. “Grab on.”

You did and swang yourself up on the reindeer’s back, grabbing at the torn reins from which hung the golden bells that rang so sharply amongst the moans. You wrapped your hands in them, bending low and bracing your legs, feeling the creature’s solid muscles moving under your thighs.

“You must be joking,” Sara coughed, but she ran towards one of the other reindeer despite her protests.

“Come on, Eight. How many people get to say they rode Santa’s reindeer?”

She didn’t bother dignifying that with a response and managed to clamber up on her chosen mount. Your reindeer lowered its head and whipped a zombie out of its way. You cheered, giggling wildly. Moving faster than you ever could on your feet, the reindeer carrying you and Sara burst free just before the zombies closed in, and you left them in your dust, their moans fading in the distance as the sun set.

---

By the time you saw Abel, the sun was nearly gone, and you had collected six more reindeer and four more runners. All of the reindeer ran behind you in pairs with you on the one leading in the front. Simon finally stopped clutching at his reindeer like it was going to throw him while Jody rode like a natural. Maggie looked less shaky and was keeping an eye on Chris who looked green around the edges.

You patted the head of the reindeer you rode. Though it was panting, your reindeer kept going, quick as a comet which you realized was its name from the loose tag on the back of its neck. Good boy.

“That’s what I call riding in style, run--no, riders,” Sam said. “Raise the gates! First wave of Santa’s elves are back for the night.”

The reindeer balked but did not flee from the sirens, and you coaxed them though the gates, swinging down once Comet settled. You stroked his head, grinning. You felt very sore from riding bareback, but it was better than being eaten, so you couldn’t complain. You saw Maggie helping Chris down, steadying the runner as he swayed, rubbing his back soothingly.

“You did good work, runners,” Kris said. “Sleep easy knowing you brought much joy in a time that very much needed it.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m knackered,” Sam yawned.

You groaned as the others jeered. The late shift guards approached, eyeing the reindeer cautiously. You submitted yourself to your bite check.

“Being an operator is hard work too,” Sam protested, his grin audible. “Sleep well, runners. You did great.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Jody said as he signed off.

“What do you think they’re going to do with the big guy?” Simon asked.

“Hey, Five,” Sara called, stealing your attention as she tossed you her ornament. “Give this back to Kris or hang it on the tree for me. I don’t care. I’m gonna check in with Janine.”

You nodded, eyeing the ornament as she left, but besides its one unfortunate side effect, it was still pretty neat (and magic).

“What do we do with the reindeer?” one of the guards, Joe, asked quietly, but you were already walking away, your feet dragging.

You vaguely remember turning on and hooking the ornament on the tree in Abel’s square, your fingers warming and smelling pudding and pine cones, before you fell face first into your cot and passed out.

---

Abel was a different place when you woke up Christmas morning. The first sign was the candy cane hanging outside of your room when you stepped out in your gloves and scarf. Curious, you pulled it down, and you looked, seeing more hanging on the doors of other runners. Shrugging, you stuffed it in your pocket.

You exited the runners’ quarters and stilled, eyes widening. Paper snowflakes hung from fairy lights and tinsel that were wrapped around the comms shack nearby. You realized that it wasn’t the only building that was decorated while you slept. So were the runners’ quarters and all the buildings you could see as well. Soft holiday music drifted in the air, emitting from the intercoms.

As you wandered towards the square, you could hear activity, the sound of shrieking, laughter, and talking growing louder. You saw people admiring the tree, and you could see why. First off, it was not that tall or green last night, and it was gorgeously decorated with tinsel, lights, popcorn, and ornaments, some handmade and others well crafted. There were also some gifts piled under it, but not as many as you would expect for how many people resided in Abel.

Yet, people buzzed with excitement, the situation becoming clearer as you drifted through towards the kitchen.

“--found it right outside my room. I haven’t seen a complete deck since the outbreak. They were worth an arm and a leg before.”

“They’re so warm, and they are just my size too!”

“It will make my job so much easier. My old one was growing really dull, and it j--”

“Runner Five!”

You turned to see Jack jogging towards you, Eugene trailing behind him with his crutches.

“Glad we caught you,” Jack said, beaming. “We heard you had a real adventure yesterday, and we thought perhaps you might want to talk about it.”

“Hello, Five,” Eugene greeted much calmer, eyeing his partner with fond exasperation. “Sleep well?”

You nodded, grinning as Jack rolled his eyes at this clear waste of time.

“Me and Gene want to interview you. Nothing like a grand tale of zombie grinches and Christmas miracles to bring hope to the people,” Jack continued. “Just let u…”

You didn’t have time to wonder why the radio host trailed off, eyes widening, when you felt a puff of air brush your neck. Wet lips nibbled at your hair, and you turned. Comet grunted at you, nosing your clothes. You stood still, unsure what to do.

“He’s looking for sugar,” Kris said, coming up behind his reindeer and stroking Comet’s side fondly. “You don’t happen to have a sugar cube or candy on you, do you?”

You frowned before perking up, reaching in your pocket and pulling out the candy cane. Comet reached for it, but you held it back, looking at Kris.

“He can have one,” Kris said. “More than that, and he’ll upset his stomach--again.”

The reindeer grunted. You unwrapped the cane and held it out, smiling as Comet gobbled it up, petting his neck.

“I wish I had a camera,” Eugene muttered behind you.

There was a flash, and you blinked your eyes clear to see Charlie grinning.

“Guess who got a camera for Christmas!”

“Ooh! Take a picture of me and Genie,” Jack crowed.

He posed with Eugene who shifted his crutches to the side to wrap his arm around Jack’s waist, smiling. Charlie took multiple pictures, and before the last one, Eugene pressed a kiss to Jack’s cheek, setting the other man’s face ablaze in time for the flash.

“Eugene!”

Eugene swung his way to peer over Charlie’s shoulder as she shook out the little pictures the camera emitted. He cackled as he got a good look at the developing photo, Charlie laughing with him.

“I’ll be keeping that,” Eugene said, taking the photo with a grin when it was done. “Get a tan, Jack. You go from ghost to tomato in seconds.”

The reindeer butted you, checking you for more treats, but you just stroked Comet’s head, nosing him back.

“He’s taken a liking to you,” Kris commented. “He’s usually much more temperamental.”

You wiggled your nose at Comet who snorted in your face, his breath warm and rank. You gagged, and Kris chuckled deeply. You looked at him, taking the time to study him and his new appearance. He had changed into overalls and flannel, looking at ease despite the cold weather. He saw you looking.

“I didn’t bring a spare suit,” Kris protested, and you held up your hands in surrender, grinning as he laughed more. “The good doctor took care of my leg as well. Now, will you show me the way to the kitchen? I’m feeling peckish.”

Your stomach growled on cue, and you nodded, weaving your way through the people, many of which moved aside, watching the mythical man trialing after you with a reindeer. You ignored it, listening as Kris told you a little bit about his travels before the apocalypse.

“I was always fond of Egypt. Their kahks are delicious.”

“Five! Over her--Oh, Kris! Hi!”

Kris chuckled as Sam waved wildly, beaming out from under the great red hat that was perched on his head, slipping over his brow. Maxine had to push it back up before it fell off his face, and he shot her a grateful smile.

“He deserved it,” Kris explained at your glance. “Santa’s True Believer. He doesn’t know it yet, but that hat will bring him much fortune if he manages to hold onto it.”

Simon, Jody, Maggie, and Chris were at the table as well, and you saw Fiona at another. She and Charlie must have gotten in earlier.

Chris didn’t even look up from the red sack he was examining in his lap, but Maggie smiled from beside him, waving and moving over to let Kris in after you approached with your trays, and you squeezed in next to Sam, brushing shoulders with him. Comet lingered by the table, people skirting around him though they watched him with curiosity.

You tapped your nose three times, pointing at the hat, and Sam stuck out his tongue.

“I think I rock it, right, Maxine?”

“It’s definitely--something,” Maxine dodged, smiling at you. “Morning, Five. How are you feeling?”

You see-sawed your hand, and she hummed sympathetically, her head bobbing.

“If you need anything, come see me later.”

You nodded, rubbing your sore legs.

“Coming to the party later?” Simon asked.

“Janine cleared it?” Jody asked with a frown.

“Nope,” he snorted. “Coming?”

“I’ll probably stop by.”

“That’s the one Jack and Eugene were planning, right?” Sam asked, stealing a banger off your tray, smiling innocently with it shoved in his mouth.

Disgusting.

“Yup. They said they’ve got the good booze,” Simon tempted.

“Whiskey, and I’m in,” Maggie said.

“I’m sure I could scour up some, Maggie,” Kris said with a mischievous smile.

She quirked a brow, and when he grinned, she laughed.

“Good luck getting your sack back from Chris. I just barely managed to stop him from unravelling it.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Chris mumbled to himself, running his fingers over it.

“It’s all right, Chris,” Maggie said, patting his shoulder. “It’s magic.”

“It’s advanced technology.”

“Okay.”

“Sam Yao, please report to the comms shack,” Janine said over the intercom, drawing people’s attention as it briefly interrupted the ambient music.

Sam sighed but pushed himself up.

“I have to get Evan back to Abel. I’ll see you at the party later, right, Five?”

You nodded, and he grinned, taking his empty tray with him. You fed Comet some boiled carrots and beans, his lips running over your palm for every scrap.

“I have to go too,” Maxine announced. “I want to organize my supplies before tonight. I plan on getting completely wasted. Don’t get any fatal injuries between today and tomorrow because I won’t be any help.”

You snickered.

“What did you get, Five?” Jody asked once Maxine left. “I got new knitting needles and some really good yarn.”

Your brows furrowed, wondering if you had perhaps overlooked your own box.

“Oh, I have not yet given Five their gift, Jody,” Kris said, smiling at you. “I wanted to deliver it personally since they did save my life yesterday.”

“Bet it won’t top my new football,” Simon challenged before you could respond.

You bared a sharp smile at Simon as Jody elbowed him. He protested, rubbing his arm, overacting the severity of the pain.

“I made an exception this year, Simon, but you are still on my Naughty List. Remember that.”

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Santa.”

---

At the party later that Janine totally did not know about (she was in the corner sharing a drink with Sara who was holding a plate of sweet potato pie), you sat comfortably in the rec building with the quickly knitted elf hat that Jody threw at you (before she started on another, having already completed one for Simon, Maggie, and Chris) on your head.

Sam was coming back over from the buffet table, balancing cups filled to the brim with various drinks. He still wore his Santa hat with pride despite how much ribbing he was subjected to. Maxine gratefully accepted her cup, following through with her plan to get utterly sloshed tonight.

“Runner Five. If I may steal you for a moment.”

You looked up at Kris, who waved away another child, and stood, following him to a corner, avoiding Jack and Eugene who found and were making good use of some mistletoe. You looked at Kris who was reaching in his pocket. He pulled out a small wrapped box. You took it curiously.

“Be assured, Five, your friends have met all your desires, hiding their gifts for you away by the tree,” Kris said. “You have been a good friend to them, and they wish to show you their gratefulness. All the practical matters have been left to them. I have something a little more… metaphysical that I believe you have deserved. Open it.”

You used your nail to tear and peel back the wrapping, prying open the lid. Inside was a familiar golden bell, one of the many you saw sewn onto Comet’s reins. You picked it up, shaking the bell to hear its sharp jangle.

“Five, if you should ever be in great need of something, hold the thought of it in your mind and ring this bell,” Kris said, catching your eyes gravely. “It will only work once, so I trust that you will use it wisely.”

You clutched the bell tightly in your hand, giving a determined nod, trusting his word. The bell slowly warmed in the heat of your palm. You would be careful with it.

“Stay alive, Five, and take care of you and your friends,” Kris said. “They’re counting on you, and I know you are up to the challenge. Happy Christmas.”

Kris pressed a finger to his nose and winked before fading before your eyes.

You blinked, staring at the wall confused. What were you doing in the corner by yourself? Weren’t you just… You turned and walked back to your friends, shaking your head.

“Nice hat, Sam,” Simon teased. “Did Five get that for you?”

“I… I’m not sure,” Sam said, clutching the red hat in his hands, frowning, but he shrugged, putting it back on. “I rock it though, right, Maxine?”

“It’s definitely--something,” Maxine slurred intoher cup.

“Five!” Sam called. “Where did you wander off to?”

You felt like you were missing something, but you couldn’t grab hold of it. You just shrugged, sitting next to him and accepting your cup with your free hand.

“Whatchu got there, Five?” Maggie asked.

You frowned, and she gestured at your other hand curled around something. You peeled back your fingers, revealing a golden bell that glistened brightly in the light.

“Where’d you find that?” Sam asked, peering at it, his hat’s bobble flopping in his face.

You… you weren’t sure, but you felt it was important. You shrugged and pocketed it, reaching out to tug Sam’s hat down over his face. He sputtered, spilling his drink a bit, and everyone laughed, falling over themselves in joyful (and drunken) abandon if only for tonight. Your chest was bursting with happiness, and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face all night, pressing your cheek to Sam’s when Charlie called for you all to pose.

Her camera clicked and flashed, letting out a pop. Your face ached from smiling.

---

‘Twas the night after Christmas, and all the through the township

Not a corner was sans gayful laughter and friendship

Children shrieked as their parents smiled on

Friends teasing and jeering and bursting in song

Huddled with his runners laid a young operator

No longer a child yet still a True Believer

And at his side was faithful Runner Five

A willful spirit who will fight for Abel to thrive

There is much they will face, but for now they cheer

Knowing that, in this moment, they had nothing to fear

And though midnight passed, and magic faded from their minds

On the tree in the square, an ornament hung and still shined

[voltaage]

I love,,, st,ink dad