#let me know if the under the cut thing is broken again and ill just make a google doc

[hypnoneghoul]

Do Not Go Away

WC: 13k

Relationship: Rain/Dewdrop, Rain/Everyone, not rel. focused

Tags: Disability, Chronic Illness, EDS, POTS, Lots of Crying, Angst with a Happy Ending, Passing Out, Depressive Episode, Abandonment Issues, Self-Hatred, Marriage Proposal, Unreliable Narrator, Mild Suicidal Thoughts, Panic Attacks

"You finally did it, you pushed us all away.  Congratulations, Rain. You are free." Or how Rain's body finally gives up and he gives up with it.

Notes: This is me expanding on this post in a heartbreaking way. Also making my worst fears come true for Rain, sorry not sorry, but at least at the end of the day he's not alone, right? While it's not my best work it's the most important and personal to me, I hope you'll like it. It's multi chaptered on ao3 so it's easier to grab a hold of an read bit by bit.

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Now with art from Nono and Felix

Nobody really knows what went wrong with Rain’s summoning. Nobody really knows if it  all originated from it, anyway. At least he’s not the only one, Zephyr is still there. What a thing to bond over, they have.

Rain was never doing good. Never good, just decent. He was tired all the time. And in pain.

“It is what it is,” he always said, shrugging. “It’s what comes with a faulty vessel.”

He was used to it already. Or was he?

He could deal with it, mostly. Sometimes it was better, sometimes it was worse, but in general he was okay. He had his pack, he had his music. He was okay.

Until he was not.

Until all he could do was lay and stare at the ceiling, without any power to move, with a lump in his throat, because everything hurt, the world was spinning and he was too exhausted to even cry. His phone was thrown somewhere next to him or on the bed, battery either already out or just right about to be. He could have grabbed it and sent a text—would his fingers manage? Hell, he could have even screamed—to someone, anyone, ask for…

For what, exactly?

Help? Help in what? There’s no helping him, is there? He’s broken and that’s it.

That is why he would just lay there, unable to move, unable to cry, unable to fall asleep, listening to his own shallow breathing and racing heart and feeling all the pain coursing through his damaged body.

Until it would be decent again.

Until the day when the decent would not come back.

This day was near, and Rain knew it.

The tour has never seemed so long. Maybe it never was, but Rain wasn’t bothered enough to actually check the dates and do the math. It’s not like it would change anything, would it?

He was a ghost. He was just there, barely present, just doing what he absolutely had to, and that was it. He was in pain, and despite the exhaustion he saw what it was doing to his packmates. They all had their own aches and they were equally tired, he hated that he was causing them distress just by… by existing.

Rain tried to convince himself it wasn’t his fault, he was summoned that way and most of the time he was careful as to not make it all worse. He knew his limits and usually did not go beyond them. Usually.

He hated that he was like that, broken, whether it was his fault or not. What did he do to deserve it? Most importantly, what did his packmates do to deserve to be burdened by his existence? What did Papa do?

The water ghoul tried his best to not be bigger of a bother than he already was. Swiss and Dewdrop usually called him a dumbass for that, told him that he was a bother only when sulking around with a frown on his pretty face. He always smiled at that, but when they looked away that frown always returned. No matter how much he appreciated the jokes, they weren’t fixing anything.

That was back home, in the Abbey.

Now, well into another tour, the rest didn’t even try the jokes. If they saw Rain needed them, they’d just quietly slip their hands into his and pull him away onto a couch or a bunk and hold him, sometimes letting him just cry it out. He used to feel better after that, just being with them, whoever it was. It was hard to believe that they still loved him, despite all, but some part of Rain’s brain knew it was the truth. It was what kept him alive.

He wanted to give them something in return, but he simply couldn’t. There was nothing but his body, the same one that caused all the problems in the first place. He didn’t have the energy for sex, not even the softest moments with one of his mates, not even if they’d do all the work. He knew they’d do anything for him, but he also knew he’d pass out the moment any of his blood went to his cock. The exhaustion and pain took away any potential need he might feel, anyway.

So Rain just was.

The only time he was something more, not just surviving but living, was when his aching fingers touched the sleek, shiny body of one of his basses. When his arms shook under its weight when he slung it over his shoulder. When he ran a finger over the thick strings. When he felt note after note vibrate through him.

It was what kept him sane.

He kept wondering for how much longer.

It was bad.

Three shows of the tour left. Rain didn’t think he’d make it. He was always doubtful, but this time it was the worst he’s ever been. He saw everyone around was worried, he wasn’t blind, even though they tried so very hard to not be obvious. They knew he wouldn’t listen or accept help, anyway.

He just had to focus, sleep as much as he could, eat well, stay hydrated, take painkillers and wear his braces and he’d be fine. He was a ghoul, for Satan’s sake, a literal demon, he wasn’t going to just– just fail. He was not failing anyone, even himself.

Rain didn’t help with unloading the gear or soundcheck this time. Not on purpose, he always helped, he was just asleep the whole day and no one woke him up. They did so just in time to eat something and get in costume for the show. The water ghoul would love to have helped, despite all, but his body was certainly grateful for just that little less work.

The show started out as usual, without much struggle, probably due to adrenaline, which—no matter how many times someone would play in front of thousands—never left. Rain started zoning out and trusting his muscle memory by the third song. Which one even was it?

He remembers tripping—nothing new—and maybe he even fell over once. Or twice?

Someone had to gently push the water ghoul in the general direction of his tech when the show ended and he didn’t notice. The bass was taken away from him and he was dragged around some more. He was so dizzy, he couldn’t really see, he realized then.

Rain couldn’t bend down for the bows, he’d pass right out. His back also wouldn’t like it much. He felt Cirrus and Papa gripping his hands for dear life but he couldn’t focus enough to squeeze them in return. He didn’t know if it was him swaying or if the stage was moving. Probably the former, he couldn’t see much and it wasn’t because of the mask. Maybe he was shaking, too? Most likely.

He nearly cried out when Papa and Cirrus let go of his hands. He knew he had to move, he couldn't just stay there standing in the middle of the stage like a deer caught in the headlights.

Rain tried, he directed all and any energy towards his legs and willed them to just work. He managed to take two impressively wobbly steps before someone—Swiss, his brain provided—wrapped an arm around his waist and took the majority of the water ghoul’s weight onto himself.

“I’ve got you,” Swiss whispered, and Rain tried his best to cling to his body as tightly as he clung to those words. He didn’t really register their way to the backstage area, having to focus on not collapsing. At least not yet. He nearly forgot about his back and hip and knee and ankle and–

“Can you stay here for a second? Just a second, I promise,” the multi ghoul asked him and he, somehow, nodded and Swiss let go of him before sprinting away, yelling something to someone. Rain could feel his eyes stinging and cold tears trailing down his cheeks and soaking into the balaclava. He tried to keep on his feet, he really did, Swiss promised he’d be back in a second, he could make it, but– he didn’t.

The water ghoul ran out of breath. He thought he saw Swiss running back in his direction but he couldn’t be sure, it was getting darker and darker all around. Was someone messing with the lights?

“Rain, shit– Phantom! Mountain! Move your asses someone!” Rain thought Swiss was yelling, but he couldn’t be, it was too quiet, muffled. When did he… when did he end up on the floor? Was Swiss holding him? His back hurt a lot now, legs too.

“I’ve got you, princess,” the multi ghoul muttered. Rain opened his mouth to reply, to tell him I know you do, but nothing came out.

He knew that was it, that was The Fail.

His eyes closed, and he floated away.

Rain was done.

Dewdrop got to them first, of course. He must’ve felt something was very wrong with Rain through their bond. “What the fuck happened!?”

“He just– he fucking passed out, I’ve no idea!” Swiss was panicking. Truly a rare thing for him but the way Rain looked, the way he felt, the way he lay there limp in his arms terrified the multi ghoul. Rain has had his fair share of fainting spells and multitude of accidents, but this was different, and both Swiss and Dewdrop could see it.

“Give him to me,” the fire ghoul growled, throwing himself onto his knees, but the anger in his voice was not directed at Swiss. He carefully moved Rain so the other could hold him. He knew Dewdrop needed it to not freak out himself. “Help me with the mask.”

The multi ghoul obliged, taking it off with shaky hands, as well as the balaclava. His lips curved in a frown when he saw how pale Rain’s face was, how sunken his cheeks were.

“Get Phantom,” Dewdrop ordered. “Or find a medic or something, I don’t know, just– just get help.”

Swiss turned on his heel, ready to bolt and get someone. As he did he could hear Dewdrop mumbling to himself, voice shaking, and the multi ghoul’s heart squeezed painfully. “I don’t– I don’t know what to do, Angelfish, fuck…”

Rain came back to reality slowly. First he registered the warmth all around him, but not the uncomfortable, overheating warmth. No, it was cozy and safe and it felt like–

“Dew?” he mumbled, trying to look around but his sight was, somehow, still not back fully. The warmth tightened around him—arms—and he felt and heard a purr from behind him.

“I’m here,” Dewdrop said, and indeed he was, laying with Rain between his legs, his back to the fire ghoul’s chest. Rain hummed and tried to twist so he could nuzzle into his partner, but the slight movement immediately caused a wave of pain to wash over his lower body and a whine to leave his lips. “Don’t move, shhh.”

“Wh– what happened?” the water ghoul asked quietly and tried not to wince as Dewdrop was the one to move and adjust so Rain could see him. 

“Well,” he sighed, “you were exhausted and sore well before tonight’s show. Then you fell over during the ritual. Twice. I guess that’s what made your legs and back so bad. At the end you passed out. For a few hours, it’s three in the morning now.”

“Fuck,” was all Rain could manage to choke out. Tears began gathering in his eyes, and Dewdrop, still carefully, scooted closer so the other could bury his face in his chest and hold onto him. “I– I’m sorry, we have two shows left, but I– I can’t, I hate it, I’m s– sorry.”

“Shhh, don’t apologize, don’t you dare,” Dewdrop cut him off and cupped the back of his head, bringing him closer.

“B– but the tour, Papa–”

“Papa is not angry. No one is,” the fire ghoul didn’t and wouldn’t let him babble about something everyone but Rain found absolute bullshit. “If anything, we’re all disappointed you haven’t said anything about how bad it was.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think–”

“We’re not disappointed that you don’t trust us enough, I know that’s not the case. We hate to see you in pain, that’s it.

“I’m so–”

“Stop,” Dewdrop spat, but there was no venom in it. Quite the opposite, his voice nearly cracked and Rain thought he felt his heart cracking with it. He should’ve told them, asked for help. Now he made his lover upset and he was just a fuck up, he should–

“Stop,” the fire ghoul repeated. Rain took a deep breath, trying so hard to not burst into tears like a child. It was his own fault, he had no right to complain or feel bad about it.

He cleared his throat and whispered, “Where even are we?”

“In the girls’ nest,” Dewdrop told him. “Back of the bus.”

“What about them?”

“You need it more now.” He shrugged and another wave of guilt washed over Rain. The ghoulettes always slept together and the bunks didn’t allow that, so they had the nest. He’s taken it away from them. “They offered, they don't mind.”

“What about the rituals?”

“Playback. We’ve got recordings for everything, you know that.” He did know it, but he also knew it was nothing like live playing. The fans would be disappointed, he knew they loved each and every one of them. He remembers what happened when Sunshine and Aether didn’t show up when everyone had expected them, when everyone was excited to see them among the rest. Now, after a few years without any changes, the fans expected all of them and Rain knew he might be a favorite for many of them. He’d disappoint thousands.

“Stop thinking, Angelfish,” Dewdrop said. His voice was stern but not angry. If anything, it had a wet tone to it, as if the fire ghoul was on the verge of tears, too.

It took a few moments of silence, interrupted only by Rain’s sniffles, Dewdrop’s purr and the bus’ rumble, for the water ghoul to compose himself a bit and speak again, “Everything hurts.”

“Oh… I know, love.” Dewdrop was sure he could hear his own heart breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t– I can’t even say what’s messed up, ‘cause it feels like… everything.”

“As far as I'm aware, after Phantom’s rough evaluation when you were passed out on the green room’s floor,” the fire ghoul sighed, “one of your hips is dislocated, I think one knee, too, and possibly an ankle, plus one wrist from you falling on it. You also most likely slipped a disc and something’s up with your ribs.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe it feel like everything because–”

“It is everything,” Rain sobbed. “I’m fucking done, completely broken, D– Dew, I– I can’t…”

“Shhh, Rain, breathe,” Dewdrop’s voice was shaking, for once he sounded out of place and Rain hated himself so much for it. He tried to do as he said, but it was so hard, everything hurt and he was suffocating under an avalanche of thoughts that he couldn’t stop. “Breathe, Angelfish, breathe with me.”

“D– Dew, I’m– I’m scared,” he cried out and he could feel Dewdrop’s own tears dripping down onto his face before the last word even left his mouth.

The last two shows of the tour Rain spent on the bus sleeping. He could’ve been backstage, but he didn’t think he’d be able to bear listening to everything and not… not being there. Alone on the bus he could’ve at least cried his eyes out in peace, until he’d gotten a headache so intense from it he’d passed out. Two days in a row. 

Then it ended, officially, and the next two days were a blur of traveling by bus, by plane and then by bus again, until the noise of wheels over a smooth asphalt turned into a crunch of them over the Abbey’s gravel. Rain pretended he was asleep, let Swiss believe he was waking him up when they got back home and let himself be carried away to his room. They carried him around a lot lately, most of it against his will. He refused to use crutches, so they started to just hoist him up like a child, not caring about his protests. He didn’t have the strength to physically fight it, so he ended up just limply hanging off of whoever pulled the shortest straw.

Now, the water ghoul was carried out to his room, where he spent the night alone, cold, in pain and miserable. He hasn't slept alone in ages.

Rain didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but it wasn’t particularly important anyway. It’s not like he had any plans and that made him angry.

He found himself not… scared, or sad, anymore. No, he felt so much rage, he felt like he was burning with it. He hated himself, he hated the world, the Clergy, Lucifer, his pack, Dewdrop. For what?

How could he?

The realization of how awful he was hit him like a freight train and bile rose in his throat. Rain closed his eyes again and hoped the sleep would return to him, so that he didn’t have to face the reality he’s found himself in just yet.

When he was roused from sleep again it was by a warm hand on his bare shoulder, making him gasp softly. “Rainy?”

“Mhm… Droplet? W’time is it?”

“Seven. In the evening,” Dewdrop mumbled, as if he wasn’t too proud of Rain’s achievement in sleeping for around twenty hours. Maybe it would be an achievement if he wouldn't be a water ghoul who can turn off his need to piss for when he sleeps. “Aren’t you hungry? Or dehydrated?”

“No,” Rain told him, simply, and yawned. He was annoyed.

“Still tired?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and snuggled further into his—somehow still cold—sheets. His eyes fluttered close and Rain hoped it would be a message clear enough for Dewdrop to leave him, but the fire ghoul seemed to have different plans. Rain heard him sigh and then felt the mattress next to him dip. He couldn’t have really prepared for the warm body suddenly glued to his side.

“What’r you doin’?” he barely held a growl back when Dewdrop started cuddling in even closer under his arm. Why did Rain feel like… like this? Dewdrop didn’t do anything wrong. Quite the opposite, he was doing his best to help, he didn’t deserve even a playful snarl to be thrown in his direction. If anything, it was Dewdrop who had the right to be bitter, aggressive and angry, not Rain. The fire ghoul went through things so much worse and he didn't act like a royal asshole about it. Not anymore, not towards his packmates. 

And Rain? He was bitching around for nothing.

Where did that sudden rage come from? He felt like he despised Dewdrop but… no– no, he loved him. When did he manage to lose that sense of himself?

“Sleeping,” the fire ghoul answered, and Rain didn’t dare open his mouth again, lest he hurt his lover worse than he already did, not even realizing it. He swallowed it down and this time his eyes had to be forced to close, his body had to be forced to relax and sleep had to be begged to take him. Rain didn’t sleep well that night.

In the morning he was the first to wake up, too. He spent the next five or fifty minutes staring down at the ghoul in his arms. That beautiful, kind, pure creature that didn’t deserve any hatred and maltreatment he experienced over the years. The man that Rain gave his heart and soul up for, and begged him to let him do so. The one the water ghoul loved more than anything, both Topside and in the Pits, in his immortal life.

And yet…

And yet Rain couldn’t wait for Dewdrop to wake up, get up and leave.

No, he didn’t want him to leave, that was… it was his worst nightmare. He never wanted to be alone, he was afraid of being alone, of being left behind and forgotten, of not being touched, of not being loved, what–

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Rain wasn’t sure how long it took for Dewdrop to wake up. Wasn’t sure how long he spent drowning in thoughts that weren’t his own. What would they be doing in his head, then?

The fire ghoul got up and left—finally, Rain’s mind provided—claiming it was going to be a busy day for him. Something about post-tour gear maintenance and paperwork related to it. Dewdrop proposed he’d find someone to keep Rain company, but the water ghoul insisted he was fine on his own. It was possibly the biggest lie that had ever escaped his mouth, but Dewdrop left it alone. Left Rain alone.

He promised he’d be back by the end of the day, that he’d come back to spend the night with Rain again. In his mind he both begged Dewdrop to fulfill that promise and to never come near him again.

He wanted to be alone, but the moment the fire ghoul closed the door behind him Rain whimpered and if he had at least a fraction of strength in him, he’d throw himself onto the floor and crawl after Dewdrop and beg him not to leave.

He didn’t, so there Rain was, submerging bit by bit in an ocean of thoughts that he desperately wanted to not be his, to not come true. Why couldn’t he swim?

Another day. 

Rain woke up alone and cold. Dewdrop didn’t come back.

His heart hurt, but he couldn’t blame him. He must’ve felt the negativity pouring off of Rain in waves, he must’ve known what was going through his head, he must’ve seen the change in how he held him.

The water ghoul didn’t know the time again. The curtains in his windows were shut, he couldn’t really estimate. It was probably more of an afternoon than a morning, but he didn’t care. He found himself not caring about a lot of things nowadays.

He opened his eyes with a sigh and tried his best to turn over onto his other side without causing himself any pain. He managed relatively well, only groaning a bit, but something set in the corner of his room, that wasn’t there before and wasn’t supposed to be there, caught his eye. A growl rose in his throat as Rain grabbed his phone and furiously found Swiss’ nickname in his contacts.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty, you need anything?” the multi ghoul’s disgustingly sweet voice sounded from the speaker after a few seconds.

“Come here,” Rain snarled and hung up.

He knew Swiss would burst through the door in seconds, scared he might need help. In the short meantime the water ghoul threw his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. He padded over to that offending thing, and leaned against his desk next to it, glaring at it with gaze so fiery it could rival Dewdrop’s own.

“What’s wrong?” Swiss all but ran into the room, not being too careful about the door. He paused in the middle of it, taking in Rain’s fury.

“What the fuck is that?” he spat.

“It’s… uhm, it’s a wheelchair.”

“I can fucking see that!” the water ghoul shouted. Did Swiss think he was stupid? Did he think it was funny? “What is it doing here?”

“I brought it down from the infirmary.” He shrugged, brows furrowed at Rain’s raised voice. So he was right, it was his brilliant idea. “Can be useful.”

Silence fell for a moment, and Swiss thought Rain was thinking it through, that he was trying to be reasonable. But then he lifted his head and the multi ghoul felt like he was about to drown in the depth of anguish in Rain’s eyes. “Get it out.”

“What?”

“Get it out!” he blew up, spit flying from his mouth and tears clinging to his lashes. Before Swiss could make a move to do as he said, Rain snarled and turned to kick the wheelchair. It turned over a few times before ending up on the other side of the room, the multi ghoul’s eyes following it, but his head snapped back to Rain when he heard a thud and a painful moan from him. He put too much weight onto his bad leg when kicking that damned thing and nearly folded in on himself as he went down to the floor.

“Raincloud, Lord Below…” Swiss gasped, coming closer to help the other, but another growl—this time obviously being supposed to be threatening—escaped Rain’s mouth, curved into a pained frown.

“Don’t!” he yelled again. “Don’t fucking touch me, just– just get out.”

“Rain, I don’t–” Swiss tried, reaching a hand out. It hurt him so much, seeing Rain in pain, seeing him so– so miserable and broken. He’d never wished anything in his life as bad as to be able to take it all away from the water ghoul.

“I SAID GET OUT!” Rain still tried to sound relatively collected, act like it was only rage that was consuming him, nothing else. It was a fool's errand, of course, especially in front of Swiss. He could see right through him.

“Do you want Dew?” the multi ghoul asked quietly, not looking at Rain anymore. He let out a pained whimper, as if Swiss had just put a knife through his heart. He took it as a no.

The multi ghoul didn’t see a point in upsetting Rain any further. He nodded—pity pouring off of him—and turned on his heel to leave, shutting the door behind him. Leaving the flipped over wheelchair in the corner of the room.

Only when Rain couldn’t hear Swiss’ footsteps in the distance anymore did he break, tears flowing down his cheeks like waterfalls as he choked on them sobbing, curled up on the floor.

He cried and cried, sickeningly reveling in the pain increasing and enveloping him and the anger swallowing him up, until all he could do was stare at the scratched and dirty hardwood and desperately gasp for breath like a fish pulled out of water. In a way he was, and he began daydreaming about sinking to the bottom of the lake and never coming up again.

He’d miss the music and his pack but… would they miss him?

Dewdrop was spending most of the week following their return from tour busying himself with chores, sleeping with anyone but Rain and crying. Usually into Swiss’ or Mountain’s shoulder.

He didn’t know what to do and he hated it. He hated seeing his partner in pain so much he stopped going to see him at all after two days. He just couldn’t bear it.

What he couldn’t bear even more, though, was the glint in Rain’s eyes and the tension in his body that told Dewdrop he hated him now. He tried so hard to not blame the water ghoul for it—for anything—to understand, to let him feel whatever it was that he was suffocating under in peace… but Dewdrop was always self-conscious, contrary to a popular belief.

He was terrified.

Terrified of Rain leaving him, of becoming a stranger to the man he loved above anything else in the universe. That’s what would kill Dewdrop.

Aether told him it would never happen, that it was physically impossible. He said he saw and felt the bond between Rain and Dewdrop and that it was something unbreakable, even if Lucifer Himself decided to try. He said the water ghoul would come around when his denial and anger would slowly turn to depression, then bargaining and finally to acceptance. Aether told Dewdrop that Rain loved and needed him, even if not right then.

“I need him, too, Aether,” the fire ghoul had said, and left. Aether seemed to not understand, even though he was supposed to be the one who understood everything. It all seemed… fake to Dewdrop.

He promised himself he’d never hate Rain. That no matter what he would do, what would happen, no matter how hard it would be, Dewdrop would be there. He would wait, even if it meant waiting till the damned end of the world. He would wait.

Another day—how many has it been?—of Dewdrop crawling into Swiss’ bed with his body, mind and heart all exhausted. The multi ghoul welcomed him with open arms again, crushing him to his chest, and let him whimper quietly.

“I miss him, Swiss.”

Even though Rain was right there, just behind a wall. Somehow that made it all worse. The fact that he was so close, yet never farther.

“I know, kitten,” Swiss sighed. “I do, too. But it’ll be alright.”

“I– I don’t know what to do.” Even though Dewdrop was saying those words over and over again, like a prayer, over the last few days, he couldn’t seem to get rid of his guilt. He was supposed to be there for Rain no matter what and what was he doing? Hiding in other’s arms because of his fragile feelings when his partner was in pain and alone.

“It’ll be alright,” the multi ghoul whispered, as every time before that. There was nothing else to say.

Then, as usual, after some time, some more whines and some tears Dewdrop fell asleep, Swiss following shortly. Dewdrop loved Swiss and Swiss loved him, they always slept well together, but those nights they both seemed to not get any real rest. Weighted down by the feeling of their lover, their friend, their family rotting.

When they woke up in the morning—Dewdrop first—they talked again. The fire ghoul always got ideas overnight, something he put all the remaining scraps of hope into, and shared them with Swiss, hoping for approval.

“You’re killing yourself over him, you know that?” he usually said instead.

And Dewdrop thought, what if this time it’s a good idea? This time he was sure, actually.

“Swiss, what if– I was planning something and maybe…” he trailed off, tracing his fingertips over the expanse of Swiss’ stomach, “maybe I should do it now, maybe it’d make him understand that I’m here. That I’m… you know, not going anywhere?”

“Let’s hear it,” the multi ghoul said, but there was a tinge of hesitation in his voice already.

“We’re together, technically, but what if… he always wanted to… to do something more human, you know? I planned it, but I’m a fucking coward and…”

Swiss floated away for a moment, not really listening to what Dewdrop was saying anymore. He knew what the plan was, it wasn’t the first time it was mentioned to him. He wasn’t sure it would work. Besides, how was anything supposed to work? What did that even mean? Maybe Dewdrop was right, maybe he should do it. Rain would cause—was causing—a lot of harm but there’s no way he would hurt Dewdrop that bad, if he… no, he wouldn’t, no matter what.

“...could go and–”

“Do it.”

“W– what?” the fire ghoul sputtered. “You like the idea?”

“I’m not sure,” Swiss sighed, nuzzling his face down into Dewdrop’s hair, “but I’m not sure about anything Rain-related right now, and this seems like something that could finally… snap him out of it.”

“Promise me you’re serious,” Dewdrop quietly begged into his neck. 

“I just– I just don’t think we can come up with anything better, kitten. We gotta get him back.”

“We gotta get him back,” the fire ghoul agreed. “We gotta get him back.”

Dewdrop didn’t think he had ever been as nervous as now. He wasn’t just nervous, it wasn’t anxiety, it wasn’t stage fright. He was terrified that it wouldn’t change anything. He was terrified that it wouldn’t fix anything.

Still, he was not giving up.

He wanted to do it immediately. The fire ghoul parted with Swiss and ran to his own bedroom to prepare. As much as possible, at least. It wasn’t something one could really prepare for.

Dewdrop took a shower—boiling hot—got dressed in something that wasn’t a stretched out or stolen band t-shirt and bent down by his wardrobe to fish the most important part out. His hands were shaking, and he cursed himself out under his breath.

The fire ghoul shoved it into his pocket and stormed out of his room. Before he blinked he was already by Rain’s and he suddenly lost all the remaining scraps of courage he had. 

It was a stupid idea, Rain didn’t need that now, he’d be annoyed, it wouldn’t work, it was a bad moment, he should just–

“I can hear you breathing over there,” the water ghoul’s muffled voice came from behind the door. Dewdrop flinched, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

“C– Can I come in?” he asked, trying to hide the shake in his voice.

“Sure.” He cleared his throat, wiped his hands on his pants and grabbed the handle. Dewdrop slipped inside and nearly stumbled backwards as he got hit with a stench of… pain. Mental and physical anguish were hanging thick in the air and tears suddenly gathering in the fire ghoul’s eyes wasn’t just his body’s defensive response.

There was a mess on the floor, everything one could think of thrown all around the room. Curtains were half shut, barely letting any light inside. Rain was in his bed, sheets crumpled over the lower half of his body as he fidgeted with his own fingers and avoided looking at his partner.

“Rainy, do you–”

“It’s alright,” the water ghoul didn’t let him finish, glancing up briefly as he tried to muster up a reassuring smile. Dewdrop had never seen a thing so fake. “What did you need?”

He managed to forget what he came there for when he took in the ruin Rain was in. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The other wasn’t looking at him and Dewdrop felt as out of place as ever.

“Dew?” Rain said quietly again. The fire ghoul cleared his throat and squeezed his eyelids to banish away the tears of fear.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he whispered and put a hand back into his pocket, fingers wrapping around the item put away in there. “I have a… question for you.” Rain hummed in acknowledgement.

Dewdrop took a shaky step forward, kicking away a crumpled water bottle to make space, and took one last deep breath.

He lowered himself to the floor, kneeling.

Only then did Rain look at him again, “Droplet, what are you–”

“You always talked about how you love human traditions,” the fire ghoul’s voice was quiet but wobbly, as if he was to burst into tears any second. He just might, really. “That you think they’re cute and… and I know it’s not the same with ghouls, but–”

He paused. Rain was looking at him with his brows raised and his expression unreadable. It made Dewdrop even more terrified but he wouldn’t stop now. He pulled out the little box from his pocket. “Rain, I want to marry you. Like a human. Will you? Will you marry me? Will you be my mate?”

The water ghoul’s lips parted, mouth hanging open in shock. And something else. He stammered, eyes wide, “D– Dew, wh– what?”

“I know it’s stupid and cheesy, but I don’t care. Rain, I need you, I love you more than anything, you know that.” It was silent for a few moments and Dewdrop had never felt time go as slow as it did then. His face was burning and his heart was racing so fast he felt it shake his entire body.

Finally, Rain broke the silence, but with… with a scoff. “Really? You’re so desperate to cheer me up, or whatever, that you’re, what, proposing?”

Dewdrop’s ears started ringing, there was suddenly a crushing pressure on his chest and a sting in his eyes. Physical pain all over. He was sure the world was starting to crumble under him. “W– what? No– no, of course it's not like that, Rain–”

“Yeah…” he sighed. “You just suddenly got a dream of being mated to a cripple, sure.”

“Rainy, p– please, don’t–” the fire ghoul was crying now, fat and hot tears running down his cheeks.

“Oh, maybe it’s a charity kinda thing? That’d be fun.”

Dewdrop let out a choked out sob and scrambled to get up, dropping the ring under the bed in the process. Not like it would be needed now, would it?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, throwing himself at the door and pulling it open. He paused, just for a second before he ran out and slammed it shut. “I planned it for months.”

The silence that suddenly surrounded Rain again was soul crushing. 

What the fuck did he just do?

Rain had no idea what happened to Dewdrop after he… left. He couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hear anything, nobody came to talk to him. About this or anything else. 

He dared to check his phone, this one time. All he found was a single text message from Swiss. Rain wasn’t hoping to find any words of consolation or assurance, he wasn’t that delusional. He found exactly what he expected.

man I know you’re in pain and all, but you fucked up

He knew he did. The worst he ever has, no doubt. He wished someone would come and yell at him—maybe beat him up, if he was lucky—but that would be mercy he didn’t deserve. What he was doing to himself was worse, anyway.

Rain didn’t think there was any coming back from this.

How could he? He didn’t mean any of it. He knew Dewdrop loved—used to love?—him, they talked about this months ago. He knew what the fire ghoul did was genuine, brought up by nothing but the sickening amounts of love he was harboring for Rain in his broken little heart.

If he knew all that… why did he do what he did?

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Everything was the simplest answer. The truth.

There was nothing to be done about it apart from rotting in pain, the misery of loneliness he sentenced himself to on his own and the self hatred for doing so. 

It appeared Rain couldn’t cry anymore. He had neither the tears nor the energy. How low he must have fallen, how far away from who he was, that even his beloved water decided to turn her back on him.

So he lay there on the floor surrounded by thrash—he supposed he was fitting in—staring at the cracked ceiling with unseeing eyes, as if his empty gaze could fill the cracks in the ceiling and the hearts of his packmates at the same time.

It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been days. The physical pain was nothing anymore, compared to the self inflicted mental anguish. The dull and somehow simultaneously sharp ache that was spreading in waves through his broken body was rewarding, in a way. Punishing, Rain supposed. He deserved every bad thing that has ever happened to him and that would be to happen to him for just this one horrible mistake.

He didn’t deserve the respite of sleep. When he felt it finally taking him, all he could do was pray to Lucifer to not let him rest.

His prayers weren’t answered. Of course, why would Lucifer side with him? He hurt Dewdrop, the one He had protected so fiercely all his life, the favored one. Rightfully so. Dewdrop deserved the world and Rain did not deserve to be even a grain of sand under the fire ghoul’s feet in that world.

He woke up with a start and a splitting headache to a harsh knocking on his door. It wasn’t asking, it was– “I’m coming in.”

Rain let out a grunt, but made no effort to move from his spot on the dirty floor. Swiss’ scent hit him as the multi ghoul loomed over him. It was a mixture of sadness, anger and… grief, Rain thought. What would he be grieving?

“I brought snacks,” Swiss announced and Rain heard something being dropped onto his bedside table. “I don’t care what excuses you’re cooking up in that head of yours, I’m coming back tomorrow and I better find them eaten.”

With that he turned around on his heel and returned to the door. He paused, though, and the water ghoul heard a sigh.

“He’s not really angry at you, you know?” Swiss said. Silence answered him. “I think it’s physically impossible to be angry at you, he’s just… you know how hard vulnerability is for him. He was planning it for quite some time mostly because he was nervous, and then he finally managed to do it and, well… you know what happened. He just needs a little space. He’ll come back, and he’ll come back soon, because that dumbass can’t live without you. You better be ready when he does. I’ll kick your ass myself if you won’t.”

Rain stayed quiet, trying to not let his mind hang onto Swiss’ words. He failed.

He heard the door opening, but before it was shut the multi ghoul spoke again, “Now get yourself the fuck together.”

Rain expected a deafening silence once Swiss left. Instead all he could hear was the pounding of rain outside, the noise of it pattering against the window. Rain scoffed at the irony of his namesake falling down just as he was falling apart.

He thought maybe he should reunite with it, let it soak into his dehydrated skin and make him feel like himself again. Even if just for a moment.

Rain groaned with pain, sinking his claws into the hardwood floor and rolling around. He bent his arms under his body and pushed himself up. His heart raced, head spun, but soon he was standing.

Swiss was right. Dewdrop would come back, he was too stubborn not too, and the least Rain could do was not hurt him any more than he already did.

He limped to the door, gritting his teeth against the pain radiating mostly from his hip, but hesitated with his hand over the handle. Maybe he should… 

The water ghoul looked over his shoulder at his desk where a cane was laying, already covered in dust. He bit his lip so hard he drew blood.

Rain turned around.

“That’s an interesting choice of weather to finally go out,” Rain heard a familiar voice from behind him.

“Well, uhm… a bit ironic, too,” the water ghoul muttered as he turned around, coming face to face with the other. He hasn't seen them in ages.

“You could say so,” Zephyr shrugged. “I’d say it can be symbolic.”

“I need it,” Rain sighed, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He gripped his cane’s handle tighter, eyeing the other’s own.

“I understand. Good luck.” The air ghoul winked and took a step to the side, intending to go on about their day.

“Zephyr, how…” Rain took a deep breath. “How did you survive? How are you surviving?”

“I’ve got my pack,” they answered with a soft smile painted on their face. They looked happy. “When I really think about it, they’re all I truly need.”

Dewdrop felt his heart clench when he caught sight of Rain outside through the common room’s window. He wanted to smile and cry and scream, overwhelmed with all the emotions known to man. He couldn’t have known if Rain being out there, in the rain, meant anything, but he didn’t care. Limping through the garden with a cane clutched in one of his hands, Rain was out there.

Dewdrop stormed out of the den, running out into the downpour with no care in the world apart from his ghoul. He ran until he was just behind him, pausing with a heaving chest as the world rumbled all around. “Rainy?”

The fire ghoul could see the deep breath he took when he turned around. Dewdrop didn’t even get a chance to blink before Rain was on him, cold nose pressing into his neck, arms wrapped tightly all around the smaller ghoul.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“Don’t have to be,” Dewdrop sighed, bringing him even closer. “Don’t have to be.”

Rain truly wailed at that. His knees buckled but the fire ghoul held him up, and it meant more than a thousand words. He’d always hold him up, wouldn’t let him fall. They both knew that.

“F– forgive me… please.”

“I already did, Angelfish,” he said and there was no hesitation in his voice.

“Can– can I… with you… stay with you t– tonight?”

The fire ghoul’s heart clenched tightly. He pressed a kiss to the top of Rain’s head. “Of course you can. Always.”

“But not yet,” he whispered, barely heard over the noise of rain. “Need it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s stay here for a bit.”

So they did, clinging to each other and waiting for the sun to set as rain washed down over them.

When Rain started shivering Dewdrop carried him back inside and to his room, peppering kisses all over his wet face on the way, his heat kicked up to not risk the water ghoul catching a cold. He helped him dry himself and change. It was a quiet process, neither of them having words to spare. They didn’t need them anyway. Not yet, at least.

What they needed for now was each other, and they finally had it again. Rain didn’t protest when Dewdrop patted his bare chest in invitation once they were in his bed. The water ghoul scooted over and glued himself to the other, curling an arm around his waist. Tails and legs tangled together.

They both haven't slept as well as that night for what felt like ages.

A few days had passed since that evening in the rain. Dewdrop has not stepped away from Rain for a moment over those days, always by his side, touching. Support both mental and physical.

Not much changed, really. Barely anything. Rain was still hurting, plagued by the pain his body was subjected to and the one his hurt body caused his mind.

But he smiled again. He took care of himself more. Well, Dewdrop took care of him, mostly, but Rain let him. He wasn’t fighting anymore. It was a slight improval, but an improval nonetheless.

“What do you think about breakfast?” Dewdrop asked as they were laying in bed one morning, lounging lazily and drinking each other in. Rain had the fire ghoul tucked against his side, lithe fingers brushing softly through the golden strands. He was about to open his mouth to agree, but the other spoke again before he could, “With the others?”

While the two of them did come across one or a few of the others over the last couple of days, Rain still hasn’t really talked to anyone. He felt guilty and doubted he’d be able to handle them all at once. But maybe… with Dewdrop…

“I– I, uhm…” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to,” the fire ghoul quickly added. “Just a proposition. We can wait as long as you need to.”

“No, I…” Rain sighed and swallowed thickly. “I want to. I miss them.”

Dewdrop tilted his head, looking up at him with his brows furrowed. “Really? You sure? We don’t ha–”

“I’m sure,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the other’s forehead. “What time is it?”

The fire ghoul turned to take a look at his phone. “Nearly ten. I’ll text them we’ll be coming down, okay?”

“We should get going, then.” Rain started to gather himself up to crawl out of their nest. Once he did and the obligatory dizziness had passed, Dewdrop grabbed his hand, pulling him in between his legs where he sat at the edge of the bed.

“If you’ll feel overwhelmed or simply change your mind, just tell me and we’ll leave, okay? They’ll understand. I just don’t want you to stress out for no reason,” the fire ghoul said, drawing circles on Rain’s hand with his thumb.

“I’ll tell you,” he agreed and with a pull on his finger prompted Dewdrop to stand up and fall into his arms for a hug. He kissed the top of the smaller ghoul’s head before they parted to get dressed.

Soon, they were slowly walking down the corridor to the common room, hand in hand, and the closer they got the faster Rain’s heartbeat was. Still, Dewdrop held onto his hand with an iron grip and wasn’t planning on ever letting go.

“I love you,” he whispered into Rain’s ear as he got onto his tiptoes to kiss the water ghoul’s cheek.

“I love you, too,” he muttered back, just before they walked into the common room.

“Hi, Dew!” Phantom noticed them first, grinning as he realized Rain was there, too. “Hi, Rainy!”

At his, not very subtle, announcement, the rest of the ghouls turned their heads in the pair’s direction. Rain had his head hung and Dewdrop squeezed his hand reassuringly as they padded further into the room. Apart from the initial surprise—a positive one—on the pack’s faces, no fuss was created. They greeted Rain and Dewdrop normally and proceeded to go on about everything as if nothing had ever happened. The water ghoul was overwhelmed, but grateful for this small mercy of not being the center of attention.

Dewdrop kept a hand on his thigh at all times, additionally giving him a warm squeeze to his still aching hip or knee. Breakfast was uneventful, a true blessing. Everyone had their own quiet conversations going on with a giggle rising up over the voices from time to time. Rain kept quiet but he enjoyed the background noise of his pack. Of life.

At some point Phantom truly burst out laughing, nearly choking on his juice. Swiss patted him on the back as he grinned and tried to not laugh himself.

“What’s so funny?” Cumulus asked with her eyebrows raised and a soft smirk.

“Bug finally found the video,” Swiss sighed. A series of snorts sounded out around the table.

“What’s the video?” Aurora asked, the only one clueless as to what was so hilarious.

“The one where he–” Mountain started but Phantom cut him off with more booming laughter and wheezed out words.

“Where he falls off the fucking stage!” he all but yelled. “Like a fucking starfish!”

“Oh, I saw that one,” Aurora giggled.

“Everyone did,” Aether scoffed, returning to his food.

“I know it looked funny.” The multi ghoul folded his arms across his chest and pouted dramatically. “But it was very serious! I was bruised for two weeks!”

Rain felt something in his heart souring, but he focused on his toast and the comforting warmth radiating from Dewdrop.

“Oh, I bet.” Phantom put a hand over his heart, as dramatic as Swiss. “It must’ve been so scary!”

The water ghoul gritted his teeth as the rest of the table laughed at Phantom and Swiss’ little act. Rain tensed up, thousands of words slamming against his brain now. Why did it even set him off? It was nothing, it meant nothing, they were just joking it–

“You’re so brave, Swissy!” Phantom laughed and Rain snapped.

One moment the room was filled with laughter as he sat by the big table, the second it was dead silent as he limped away with a snarl on his lips and stinging tears in his eyes.

“Rain!” Dewdrop called after him. He was so stunned at the water ghoul’s outburst he didn’t follow him right away. “Angelfish, wait–”

He slammed his door shut and locked it as soon as he reached his room, right in Dewdrop’s face. He threw himself onto the bed and curled into a ball, hands pressing into his ears so hard it hurt, to not hear the fire ghoul’s muffled, hurt voice, pleading with him to open the door.

Not this time.

Dewdrop shuffled back to the common room after a few minutes, knowing that lingering at Rain’s door would do no good. He ran a hand down his face with a sigh. Back by the table Swiss was consoling a crying Phantom as the rest pointedly stared at their plates.

“It’s not your fault, Ant,” Dewdrop told him. It really wasn’t. “He’s in a fragile state now, but he knows it was just joking around and not even about him.”

“B– but I–” the quintessence ghoul sniffled.

Dewdrop forced himself to smile softly, reassuringly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled and let himself be pulled closer by Swiss as he wiped off his tears. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as the fire ghoul plopped down onto a couch. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

Dewdrop dropped his face into his hands and tried so hard to not just… break. He took a few shaky deep breaths trying to compose himself. He felt the couch dip next to him, then, and Aether’s scent enveloped him as the bigger ghoul wrapped himself around him.

“It’s okay, firefly,” he whispered. “You’ll be alright. Both of you.”

Oh, how bad Dewdrop wanted to believe it.

Rain didn’t sleep well without Dewdrop again. He kept tossing and turning for hours, and even after he did finally manage to fall asleep, he still woke up frequently. That’s why he heard the suspiciously quiet knock on his door in the morning. “‘s open.”

The door squeaked and Cumulus’ fluffy hair came into Rain’s view. “Hi, pearl.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in greeting, pulling the covers higher up over himself.

“How are you feeling?” The ghoulette came closer and closer until she sat at the edge of the bed. “Did you sleep well?”

“‘m fine,” Rain grumbled and shuffled away, not even trying to be discreet, when Cumulus’ hand hovered over his legs under the covers.

“Glad to hear,” she smiled, but the water ghoul wasn’t neither stupid nor blind. “Do you need anything? I can–”

“I said I’m fucking fine,” he growled, snapping his teeth. Cumulus flinched and quickly scrambled off of the bed. Rain could smell her scent souring in real time.

“Oh, uhm… I’m– I’m gonna go then… goodbye, Pearl,” she murmured and stumbled out of the door, still being careful and considerate enough to not slam it. Rain sighed, burying himself under the covers fully. She didn’t deserve it, there was really no reason for him to–

“No, you fucking don’t!” Cirrus yelled, out of nowhere. She, on the other hand, slammed the door so hard it was surprising the frame didn’t splinter. Before Rain could register what was happening the bedding was ripped off of him and it was his turn to flinch. “You’re either going to get yourself the fuck together or we’re going to leave you here to rot in your own misery.”

Her teeth were bared as she stood over him, fuming. “You’re in pain and depressed, we get it, but it’s not our fucking fault. It’s not yours either, but stop making it worse for yourself and us by being a little bitch.”

Cirrus was right, Rain knew she was. He was silent, but he hoped she’d rip him to shreds as she continued to growl and snarl. “Dewdrop didn’t do anything to deserve what you said to him, Phantom didn’t mean anything by what he said and you know it, Swiss was only trying to help because he cares for you.”

“Look at me,” she spat, kicking the bed frame. He couldn’t look her in the eyes, he was a filthy coward. “Cumulus was crying her eyes out feeling sorry for you at night and wanted to simply offer company in the morning. I understand everything, I really do, but that’s fucking enough, Rain.”

He felt like a child, being scolded as he fidgeted with his hands, no power to talk back. Cirrus was right, about everything. Rain hurt everyone, even though all they tried to do was help. He was a monster. He didn’t deserve to as much as live in the same building as his pack, those kind, caring and compassionate ghouls that were nothing like him, the miserable cripple poisoning everyone’s lives.

He’d do everyone a favor if he just… disappeared.

It could’ve been a day or a week again, as Rain continued his rotting. He didn’t have any will, energy or reason to do… anything, really. Once in a while he’d stumble to the bathroom to piss, but how often could that be happening if he didn’t drink anything? That was another thing, he was drying out, not only inside but outside, too. He was a water ghoul, for Satan’s sake.

Rain didn’t see a point anymore. He tried, he thought it was about to get better, he thought it was about to get fixed, he had Dewdrop again and he fucked it all up. Again. He didn’t deserve more chances.

Rain lost.

He flipped over on his bed, groaning at the pain shooting through his body at the movement after so long of being stuck in one position. The water ghouls stared at the ceiling, the moonlight dancing on the flat surface. He longed to feel the peace of it again.

It was cold when Rain woke up again. He didn’t think he had ever been so cold.

Something was wrong, he wasn’t– it wasn’t just cold in his room, he was freezing inside. Heart feeling like a block of ice.

His hands were shaking, his knees ached.

Rain noticed a bass laying next to him. How did it get there?

He tried to reach out for it with a whine, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t move. His body wasn’t listening to him. He was stuck.

“Please,” he whimpered, eyes stinging. He tried one more time.

His fingers twitched, then his wrist, but before he could grab the bass, it was gone. Vanished.

A shuddered sob left his throat and he brought his hand back to his chest, as if it got burned. Why did it… where did it go?

Rain got up, legs wobbly. Pain shot through his entire body, but he didn’t stop. He left his room, he wanted to find someone. He didn’t know why, he avoided them all, after all, but he suddenly needed them.

He walked slowly, holding onto the wall, wincing with every step, his jaw clenched. First door, Swiss’ bedroom. He knocked.

No answer.

Rain swallowed thickly and pressed down on the handle, opening the door with a squeak. He looked into the room but it… it was empty. Completely bare, no furniture, no belongings. No Swiss.

The water ghoul’s heart sank.

He closed the door and moved on to another one. Mountain.

The shaking of his hands was worse now, anxiety rising. Mountain’s room was empty, too. Rain’s heart was racing, fear engulfing him completely. Did they… leave him?

He limped from door to door, finding each and every bedroom in the same state of nakedness. The den has become a wasteland and Rain felt like he had slept right through it.

Tears were flowing down his face, his breathing was shallow and his head was pounding as he stumbled down to the common room. It was empty, too, but there was a piece of paper on the big dining table, covered in dust. Rain didn’t want to read it.

He did, though. He couldn’t not have.

You finally did it, you pushed us all away. 

Congratulations, Rain.

You are free.

Rain woke up with a cry on his lips, body covered in sweat.

Did he really wake up?

His body hurt all the same. He was alone all the same.

He supposed that was it. His nightmares finally came true and it was nothing he didn’t deserve. He truly did this to himself.

Rain lifted an arm to move his damp hair out of his face with a sigh. When he dropped it he hit something that was laying next to him on the bed. Something like paper. He grabbed it, brought to his face and tried to see what was on it, squinting in the half-dark room.

A pain sound left his mouth as his heart sank impossibly deeper when he made out the words in Papa’s clean handwriting.

Rain tumbled out of bed, his knees hitting the floor. He scrambled up and with tears adding to the wetness on his face ran out of his room with energy he wasn’t able to find in himself for the last… well, he still wasn’t sure how much time had really passed since the tour had ended.

But now he ran.

“Even you can’t convince him to give up touring,” Mountain sighed, running his fingers through Dewdrop’s hair where his head was resting on the other’s chest.

“I know, but Aether–” he sniffled.

“Aether wanted it, it was his idea,” the earth ghoul reminded him. This was the third—or thirteenth—time they were having this exact conversation. Mountain wasn’t annoyed or exasperated by it, no. He just wished he was able to tell Dewdrop something else. “Sunny, too. This is a very different situation, Fire Lily.”

“Fuck, I know, but I– I just can’t see him like this, but I know not playing will be equally bad, Mounty. If not worse. ”

“Yeah… yeah, it will,” he whispered. It was the truth, everyone knew it. Rain and his music was something… it was one. It couldn’t be separated, Rain without music was an empty shell, a ghost. He needed it to survive just as much as he needed water.

Silence that fell after that was soon interrupted by a single vibration of Mountain’s phone. He reached out for it and Dewdrop could hear and feel his heart speeding up under his ear.

“Oh… I– I don’t think any of us will have anything to say about it,” the earth ghoul said.

“What do you mean?” Dewdrop perked up, anxiety rising in him.

Mountain showed him his phone, the band’s group chat open. The single text message from Papa hanging over the bright background was like a knife piercing the skin of Dewdrop’s chest.

Good morning, my dear ghouls. I am sorry for not informing any of you in advance, but I thought it best, considering the… circumstances. I hope you can understand my decision. All of you, please come down to the summoning chamber as soon as you get this. We are about to summon a new ghoul.

“They’re about to summon a ghoul now?” a choked off whimper left Dewdrop’s throat. That would… it would kill Rain.

“Seems like Papa made a choice a while ago,” Mountain grumbled and pulled the shaking fire ghoul closer to his chest, neither of them ready to face the reality. They both hoped the messages that came soon in quick succession after the first wasn’t Papa hurrying them. It was worse.

dew 

my office

now

its rain

This made the fire ghoul scramble out of Mountain’s arms and throw himself out of the door without a word. The earth ghoul understood, he slowly climbed out himself and began to get ready. After all, the new ghoul would have to be welcomed no matter the state their pack was currently in.

Papa expected Rain to show signs of life as soon as he would wake up and see the note left on his bed. He knew it wasn’t likely for him to see the message on his phone. What the man didn’t quite expect was how he burst through his office’s door shaking and crying.

“Papa, please–” were his first words, let out in a breathless whine as the water ghoul stood in the door, clutching the handle for dear life. He looked like he was about to collapse. 

“I’m sorry, Rain,” Papa sighed, leaning back against the desk and trying to not make the pity show on his unpainted face. “I made my choice.”

“I’m fine, I just need to rest,” Rain pleaded, coming closer on wobbly legs. Papa reached out for him. “I can still tour, I won’t disappoint you any more.”

“You have never disappointed me, not once. I’m removing you from the project for your own good.”

A hurt noise left Rain’s mouth before his knees hit the ground. Before Papa could so much as blink the ghoul crawled over to him and wrapped himself around his legs, begging as if for his life. In a way he was.

“Please… Papa, don’t���” his voice was breaking, barely understandable, “don’t take this away from me.”

“I am sorry, my ghoul,” Papa said, meaning it. It was a hard decision for him, too, he knew how it would impact not only Rain himself but the entire pack, but he was the head of the church now. He was responsible for his ghouls. In the long run, this was the better choice. Lesser evil.

Papa lowered himself to the ground and wrapped his arms around Rain—still babbling out his pleas. He held on tight, letting the ghoul cry into his shoulder. Rain clung to the man as if he was a lifeline, the last remaining scraps of normality in his life.

Not letting his grip falter, Papa dug around for his phone. As clumsy as it was, he managed to send a few quick texts to the chat, hoping that the fire ghoul would be bothered enough to open them and come as soon as possible.

How could’ve he doubted him?

“Rain,” Papa whispered into his ear after what felt like hours. “Dewdrop’s here.”

The water ghoul’s head shot up so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. Through the tear-blurred vision he saw Dewdrop’s silhouette as he stood over the two of them.

“Angelfish,” he sighed and before anything else could leave his lips, Rain threw himself at his feet, wrapping weak arms around his calves and clinging hard as he cried into the fabric of his jeans. 

Dewdrop knelt—rather clumsily with how the other was holding him—and buried his fingers in Rain’s hair, bringing him close to his chest. He turned to Papa for a moment, gently asking him for space and the man left with a compassionate smile on his face, closing the door behind him.

“Rain… Rain, look at me. I’m here. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

“You– you’ll go away, you’ll l– leave me,” Rain sobbed, clinging to Dewdrop’s shirt with white-knuckled grip, as if he’d really leave if he let go even for a split second.

“Angelfish, I won’t, ever,” the fire ghoul tried but Rain was so far away, spiraling so hard that nothing was getting through to him. Dewdrop was shaking now, too, Rain’s pain and sadness choking him like they’d be his own. Worse. “Please, Rainy, stay with me, I’m not going to leave, I’m not going anywhere.”

“D–  Droplet, I– I can’t–” his breathing was nothing but short, choked off gulps of air that he greedily swallowed but spat back out with another wave of tears after a second. Dewdrop frowned, the sound going straight to his bruised and cracked heart.

“Rainy, breathe. Please, breathe for me, please,” he begged him, on the verge of tears himself. He couldn’t cry, there was no point, he just had to– he just had to help Rain. “Please, baby.”

“I– I can’t… can’t D– Dew,” he wheezed out and it made panic flash through Dewdrop. It was too empty, he was… he sounded like he was suffocating and the fire ghoul could do nothing about it. “Dew, I– I’m s– scared.”

“I know, baby, it’s okay, it’ll be alright. Just breathe, please, Rainy.”

“Can’t…” Rain whispered without air, so quiet Dewdrop could barely hear it.

The water ghoul went limp in his arms, fingers letting go of his shirt, head thumping against his collarbone.

“Fuck, fuck, R– Rainy?” Dewdrop’s tears fell as panic rose in his throat like bile. “Rainy, please, wake up. H– hey, hey, Rainy, wake the fuck up, please, I’m begging you. Please…”

But Rain couldn’t hear him.

Rain came to surrounded by warmth. Nothing overwhelming and nothing… dry. He was in the water. He felt his limbs twitch, his chest slowly rise and fall.

“Hi, fish boy,” he heard a whisper and felt a breath on his ear. His brain was slowly catching on, registering his surroundings. Rain was in a bath. Dewdrop was with him, holding the water ghoul between his legs, against his chest. Chin hooked over his shoulder.

Rain tensed, breath hitching, but Dewdrop only tightened his arms around him. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll look after you, it’s okay.”

No, no, he didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t take it.

“Rain, stop,” the fire ghoul sighed as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. He must have had. “It’s not true. I love you, let me take care of you.”

“D– don’t. Don’t say that.”

“Rainy… you’re such an idiot,” Dewdrop chuckled. It threw Rain off so much he stopped squirming, mouth nearly agape.

“W– what?”

“Just… just stop fighting everything, okay? It’ll be alright, just stop fighting. Please.”

Rain didn’t know how to answer, but after all the hurt he had caused Dewdrop, the least he could do was to obey. So he did.

“That’s it,” the fire ghoul hummed. “I’ve got you. Relax.”

Rain took a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut, and tried to follow the simple instruction. He’d be able to if he’d just stop thinking. His thoughts were racing.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Dewdrop murmured, a wave of comforting warmth washing over Rain. He wasn’t sure if it was the fire ghoul’s warmth or just his words. They were like sedatives for him.

“Can you…” he cleared his throat, “please, Droplet, keep talking.”

“Of course, baby.” The water ghoul could hear the soft smile in his voice as Dewdrop traced his warm fingers over the skin of Rain’s stomach under the water. “My pretty, brave boy.”

“‘m not…”

“Hush. You asked me to talk, let me talk,” he scolded him. “You behaved like an ass but you are my pretty and brave boy.”

The fire ghoul nipped at his earlobe playfully. It nearly made Rain smile. “Tried so hard to get rid of me, didn’t ya? It’s not so easy, Angelfish, should’ve known that.”

Rain let his body go slack again, truly relaxing now that everything seemed normal for a moment. If he tried hard enough he’d be able to forget how he hurt, how hard he messed up and how bad he felt about it. Dewdrop continued talking, mumbling soft words into his ear, pressing kisses to his damp skin in between them. Some things were hard to believe, some made him feel warm, some made his heart clench painfully, but Dewdrop continued talking. That’s what mattered. Rain didn’t even realize how much he had missed his voice alone.

He could fall asleep in that bath, cradled in the fire ghoul’s arms. He nearly did, stopped only by Dewdrop shifting, reaching for a bottle of shower gel and a loofah. Rain panicked, heart suddenly in his throat as he grabbed the other’s arm tightly. “Hey, shhh, it’s alright. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving, Rainy.”

Dewdrop nudged him to sit up once his initial fear had passed. The tub was huge, they could not only fit in there comfortably together, but also maneuver all they needed to. The fire ghoul smoothed a hand down Rain’s back, soothing him as he wetted and lathered the loofah with gel.

“Can I?” he asked, making sure Rain was okay with what he wanted to do.

He nodded, muttering, “I’m a mess.”

“Well, you have a nose,” Dewdrop chuckled. “I’m not gonna be lying to you.”

He was right, of course. It was hard to not end up a mess without taking care of oneself for weeks and that’s exactly what Rain did.

He smiled, though. 

Barely a hint, the corner of his lips raised upwards by quarter of an inch, but it was a smile.

Dewdrop leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Rain’s spine before bringing the sponge to his skin, starting to gently wash him. The water ghoul closed his eyes again and relaxed, finally letting himself be taken care of, letting himself feel all the love the other had for him through his tender touches.

No matter how far Rain would come, one thing would never change and it would be the fact that Dewdrop was simply too good for him. Too good for this world.

“Droplet?” he whispered after some time, when the fire ghoul settled in between his legs to wash his chest.

He smiled up at him sweetly and Rain’s heart swelled. “Hm?”

“Would you…” he swallowed thickly and felt his cheeks heat up. “Is there still a chance for us to… you know?”

“What, Rainy?”

“Mate? Get married?”

There were a few moments of silence, but Dewdrop didn’t stop the light scrubbing. Rain hung his head, now burning with shame. How stupid it was to ask that. “You don't have to say anything, don't have to agree, I just… I need to know if you can still… consider it after all I've done. Just tell me if there's a chance.”

“There's more than a chance, Angelfish,” the fire ghoul looked up at him again. There was no lie in his glowing eyes when he spoke. There was only love.

“R– Really? You still want–”

“Of course I do, idiot,” Dewdrop scoffed. “I can't live without you. And you aren't that bad.”

“Fuck…” Rain felt like an impossible weight was just lifted off of him. His eyes were stinging but at the same time he couldn’t keep his lips from finally forming a full smile, something actually bright and real. “I love you so much, I can't live without you either, I'm so sorry, I was awful and–”

“Stop,” Dewdrop stopped him with a finger over his chapped lips. “It's behind us, it's okay.”

“I love you,” he repeated, breathless.

“I love you, too,” the fire ghoul shook his head with a grin. “Now are we calling the girls to help with the planning or…?”

Rain furrowed his brows in confusion. “W– what?”

“We're getting married aren't we?”

“You want– now?”

“Why wait?” Dewdrop shrugged and Rain could cry. He just might.

“Oh… oh, okay,” he mumbled instead, “yeah. Good point.”

The fire ghoul purred and pressed his lips to Rain’s own and it was another thing he hadn't realized he missed to a point of physical pain until he was given it again. Dewdrop pulled away way too soon, but Rain wouldn’t complain. Not yet, at least. “D’ya wanna get out? Go to bed and rest?”

“Soon,” the water ghoul sighed. The other nodded and rearranged himself in the bathtub, ending up with Rain against his chest again.

Dewdrop kicked up a purr and muttered into his ear, “You’re wearing a dress, right?”

“I am?”

“Are you not?”

Rain sighed with a smile, “I am.”

The tour ended two months ago.

It has been over a month since Rain started to get better. Not physically—nobody knew if that would come—but mentally. It is a road full of bumps and curves and turnarounds, but most of the tears and grief are left behind. Whatever will happen in the future, Rain has his pack. Enlarged now. He has Dewdrop.

And Dewdrop finally has Rain. All of him.

Whatever will happen, they will get through it.

“Hey, Bambi,” Swiss snaps Rain out of his thoughts. “You ready?”

“Nearly, I just–” he grunts, fumbling with the zipper on his side. “Can’t close this thing.”

“Lemme help,” the multi ghoul chuckles as he comes closer and swats Rain’s hands away from the offending zipper. He fixes it quickly and pats him on the shoulder, taking a few steps back to look him over. “Well, well…”

“What?” Rain scoffs with his eyebrows raised, ringed and manicured hands smoothing down the silky fabric of his dress.

“Nothing, I’m just proud of you,” Swiss mutters. “Now let’s go get your man."

End notes: Thank you so much for reading. Like I said at the beginning, this work is very important and special to me, I hope you liked it. I'd really appreciate feedback if you did, whether just a like/reblog or a whole ass essay. It wasn't easy to write and yeah, I'd really appreciate it <3

[causeitsagame]

Some good old-fashioned h/c

For @hajihiko, since there was nothing to read <3

"No, we cannot tell Makoto," Sonia insisted, and coughed up a wad of phlegm. "He puts himself at great risk with every visit."

"I know that," Hajime said, and traded the phlegm-y handful of palm fronds she'd grabbed along the way in favor of an actual tissue. After some time spent on the real islands, Makoto had asked them what else was needed for their recovery. The list was fortunately brief, but did have some small but critical items, like a pressure control valve for surgical anesthesia. Somehow, he'd managed to find the whole requested collection in the broken world out there.

"And so we cannot appear to be ungrateful," Sonia continued. She snorted, drawing a drooping bit of snot back up into her reddened nose. "Accepting necessary trade-offs without complaint is a part of negotiations and aid."

"It's Makoto," Hajime patiently countered as he led her back into her room. Other nearby doors were also closed, but she'd decided that she felt well enough to help prepare some broth for the others. It hadn't gone well; he'd found her slumped over in the kitchen. "He's not going to get mad if I clarify exactly what he brought to the island with him."

"No, we mustn't blame him," Sonia said weakly as Hajime steered her toward her bed.

"It's not blame. I just want to know."

"You mustn't," she insisted again as she let herself be maneuvered under a light blanket. Though the day was typically warm outside, she shook.

"…Fine," Hajime lied. "I won't call Makoto."

Sonia smiled gratefully up at him through reddened, watery features.

"Feel better. I'll check on you soon, all right?"

She nodded, coughed again, and curled up on her side.

With a reassuring smile, Hajime walked off to call Makoto.

"Sorry, I didn't realize," Makoto said on the video screen, and wiped roughly at his nose. Now into recovery, he had the pale, desaturated color scheme of a heavy illness draped over his otherwise sunny demeanor. "I didn't feel bad until I was already leaving. How are people doing? Do you need more medicine?"

"No, we're good." Hajime gestured over his shoulder, and coughed. "There's plenty of medicine in the clinics around the islands."

Makoto hesitated at Hajime's deep, rough cough. "Is it expired, though?"

"On the packages? Sure. In reality? Slightly reduced efficacy, easily adjusted for with a larger dose." Hajime coughed again against the back of his hand. "We're good."

"Okay," Makoto said uncertainly. "Call me again if you need to, all right?"

"We're fine." Hajime waved him off. "I should be able to toss this off pretty easily, and I can look after everyone else."

"Well. Okay. But seriously, you can call me."

"And we always appreciate it," Hajime assured him, and with a grateful nod, cut the call. Okay. Time to check on everyone else.

Akane complained, which was a good sign; she'd been the first to succumb, and her laying so still and quiet in bed had unpleasantly reminded everyone of the Despair Disease. "I've gotta have something more than just water," she griped as Hajime handed her a bowl, filled from the pot Sonia had left simmering.

"Broth," Hajime corrected. "And do your eyes feel all weird and prickly?"

"Yeah."

"Right. We need to get more fluids into you, first thing. That'll help you recover as quickly as possible. And if you need fluids, this is better than just water, right?"

"Yeah," she admitted, and drank some. "I guess."

"Okay. Drink some more of that until you feel better, and then real food is on the way." That encouraged her enough to treat the broth as an actual meal, and after a quick temperature check, Hajime moved on.

"I feel gross," Kazuichi whined.

Hajime turned to cough into his shoulder, heavy and deeper in his chest than when he'd talked to Makoto. It felt like it echoed inside him like a timpani, and Kazuichi had an eyebrow raised when he turned back to the man.

"You sound gross," Kazuichi added.

"I'm fine," Hajime insisted, and held up a stethoscope. "I want to listen to your chest."

Breathing was hindered by the sputum that this illness had brought to their respiratory tracts, but fortunately, it didn't sound any worse than yesterday. Kazuichi must be currently going through the worst of it, which meant that recovery was right ahead. "Cough for me into this," Hajime instructed, handing over a tissue.

Kazuichi did, and made a face as Hajime inspected what he'd coughed up. "And that is gross."

"The infection is on the mend," Hajime dryly confirmed as he tossed the tissue in a nearby bin. "And you're welcome. I'll bring soup."

"…Did you make the soup, or…"

"Sonia."

Kazuichi's grimace deepened as much as his illness-exhausted muscles would allow.

"She knows how to make a decent vegetable broth, by now. It tastes fine. Really. Be back in a sec."

Outside Kazuichi's cottage, Hajime felt a deep, insistent pressure build up in his chest. He hurried away from the open window, far enough that the noises he was about to make would blend into the rush of waves on the shore.

The cough ripped out of him painfully hard. He could feel it dislodge substances inside him that shouldn't be there; the illness everyone else was dealing with had also settled into his own respiratory tract. With another few deep coughs, Hajime cleared his throat and stood. His immune system was part of his generally improved body. That, along with his medical knowledge, meant that he was the best-suited person on this island to look after everyone else. And so he'd do exactly that.

"Hey," Hajime quietly called out as he entered the last cottage. He'd stopped by the kitchen for Kazuichi's broth, and another bowl of it was still in hand. "How are you doing?"

While Hajime was the best-suited to throw off an illness, Fuyuhiko was expectedly having the roughest time of it. He'd succumbed soon after Akane, but while she'd rebounded enough to complain and regain her appetite, Fuyuhiko remained a quiet, pliant lump under his blankets.

Silence in return to his question twisted an anxious knife in Hajime's chest. Suddenly fearful, he leaned over Fuyuhiko's still form.

And then he coughed on him, deep and loud.

Grimacing, Fuyuhiko stirred and looked up at Hajime with an accusing eye. "What?" The question was deep, raspy. Between damage from days of coughing and the illness his body still fought, his voice had dropped half an octave and most of its volume.

"Just checking on you," Hajime said. "I brought this. Can you sit up?"

Fuyuhiko flicked his gaze to the bowl Hajime held, then away. It was a silent but clear 'no thanks.'

"You need to eat," Hajime insisted.

Illness weakened people, and Fuyuhiko apparently dealt with illness about as well as he did with anything that made him feel weak: it pissed him off.

He'd been even more uncooperative than Akane. Although she'd fortunately rebounded quite a bit after the pods, giving her some physical reserves, Fuyuhiko had been an easy target for the disease clawing through everyone's system. He'd been left nearly motionless, only able to manage the short trip to the bathroom without exhausting himself. He relied on Hajime for food, medical attention, and anything else, and it infuriated him.

"The faster you recover, the faster you can get out of this room," Hajime pointed out. "And you're not going to recover if you starve yourself."

Fuyuhiko didn't want to agree with that, clearly. Fortunately for his pride, he could simply stay silent.

Hajime sighed. "Would you just—"

He barely set the bowl down in time before another cough ripped through him, doubling him over. He felt his abdominal muscles clench hard, almost like he was vomiting, as his airway was forcefully cleared. He gasped when he regained control of his breathing, felt his throat catch again on some of the mucus coating it, and fell into a second helpless round of coughing.

"One second," Hajime wheezed, and wiped his teary, bloodshot eyes.

In Fuyuhiko's bathroom, Hajime wiped down his face with one tissue and coughed hard into a second. The sputum had tinges of color just like what he'd inspected on Kazuichi: the infection was finally settling into Hajime's lungs, too. But it was mild, only there in small streaks, and so there wasn't any need to worry. Certainly, he was in much better shape than any of the rest of them, especially Fuyuhiko.

When Hajime exited back into the main room, Fuyuhiko was making an awkward attempt at the soup left next to him.

"Oh," Hajime said in pleased surprise, and cleared his throat again. "Need any help?"

Fuyuhiko eyed him speculatively. "No. Hey. Is there any medicine I should be taking?"

Hajime's eyebrows further rose. Fuyuhiko had rejected most of his suggestions before this, saying he didn't need it. "Yeah, there are a few different things I'd like to put you on."

"Go get 'em."

Not about to argue with a patient suddenly cooperating, Hajime did so. On the way, he stopped twice more to double over, hacking and coughing until tears squeezed out of his eyes.

Two days later, he tried to get out of bed to monitor everyone's recovery, and… couldn't. Hajime's muscles were tired like he couldn't remember, and every breath was thin and labored. He could feel the heat and humidity of the islands laying across his skin like a slimy, stifling weight, and yet the core of his body felt chilled and vulnerable. Hajime pulled a blanket over his shoulders and curled inward on himself.

Ten minutes passed, and his door opened under Sonia's mostly-steady hand. "We knew it," she sighed. "Yesterday, you were clearly on a steep decline."

"How's everyone doing?" Hajime asked. Or tried to, anyway; the words came out all mumbled.

"Good enough to check in on you!" Kazuichi promised, walking in with a bowl of soup. Behind him, Akane carried three thermoses, presumably full of the same.

"No," Hajime protested, seeing them all up and walking around. "You need to." His medical assessments weren't coming together like they had, and so he struggled with finding the instructions to issue. "Cough. Tissue."

"We're all clear," Kazuichi promised with a big thumbs-up. "Just normal snot, no infections."

Sonia smiled awkwardly. It was a curious mixture between celebration of their improved health and not wanting to have physical matters mentioned. Princesses weren't raised to acknowledge bodily issues, presumably.

"Oh." Well, that was good. Hajime let out a few rough, hacking coughs again, then found the next words he'd been struggling for. "Where's Fuyuhiko?"

As if cued, the man brushed past Kazuichi. Unlike everyone else, who appeared well on the path to recovery by now, Fuyuhiko was clearly still in the grips of the illness. He at least looked better than he had, though, even as he had a light blanket clutched around him and would probably go straight back to bed. "You probably know which one of these to take, yeah?"

Hajime managed a faint smile as more than a dozen different medications were deposited on his nightstand. The pile included every medicine he'd pulled for Fuyuhiko, along with what must be every other medicine that Fuyuhiko had decided looked even remotely related when he made his own visit to the nearest clinic. "Yeah. I see what I need."

"Good." Fuyuhiko found a small smile of his own, though it was an odd-looking expression after their collective illness had torn so deeply into him. "When I saw you acting like a dumbass, I figured I'd better heal up fast."

"M'not a dumbass," Hajime protested.

"You will stay in bed for the next three days," Sonia proclaimed, bringing the full weight of her lifelong training to bear. "We will not permit you to further exert yourself, Hajime, and will look after you as you have looked after us."

Hajime opened his mouth, took in everyone's visibly improved states, and closed it. That… that didn't sound too bad. "Okay," he relented. "But Fuyuhiko'd better do the same." Fuyuhiko had improved, yes, but 'can stand and walk, only with great effort' wasn't exactly reassuring.

Instinctive stubbornness slammed into Fuyuhiko's expression, and he opened his mouth to argue.

"Get back into bed," Hajime said, mostly into his pillow, "or I'll get up to check on you."

"…One more day," Fuyuhiko accepted, clearly with great reluctance.

"Fine." Hajime coughed. "Someone get me three pills from the. Bottle with the uh. Uh. Green cap." Sonia stepped forward toward the bottles, and Hajime admitted to her, "I called Makoto."

"I assumed as much," she sighed, though it came with a smile. "Will you need help with these pills?"

"Yeah, I'll need help sitting up," Hajime said, and saw Akane head his way to do so as Sonia disappeared into the bathroom for a glass of water. At the doorway, Fuyuhiko actually let himself be led off by Kazuichi.

As he felt Akane carefully tilt him up from the bed, Hajime sighed and let his eyes fall closed. Her grip was steady and sure, and Sonia sounded confident as she rattled off the (expected) name on the requested bottle, wanting confirmation before she administered it.

Obediently, Hajime opened his mouth for the first pill, and swallowed it down with the mouthful of water she then offered. And then again, and again. Sonia's voice next promised that she'd check on Fuyuhiko as the day went on, too, and so there was no need for him to worry.

Reassured, Hajime nodded as Akane arranged him back under his blanket. "Thanks."

His instincts began to rattle off all of the checklist items he should tackle, but for once, Hajime ignored them.

For now, he'd let someone else be in charge.

[ellohcee]

slides in tell me about that reincarnation au you posted my dear :)

Oh thank why thank you for asking my most wonderful Scribby~

SO the very basic premise was inspired by this lovely animation (warning for some brief scenes of animal death), but I kind of went way off the rails beyond the simple setup. There's also hints of inspo from Princess Mononoke but it's more visuals than anything. And well it's gonna get long so I'll put it under a cut

Okay so David is a spirit who guards this forest and the animals there from hunters. Jasper lives in a town nearby and while he's not a dedicated hunter he is excellent with a bow and arrow so he's tasked with finding and killing this forest spirit. David's never harmed anyone but he simply chases any hunters out of the woods he protects so the nearby townspeople want him dealt with.

So Jasper is sent out, not super enthused about the whole thing because again, this forest spirit has never hurt anyone that they know of,AND he doesn't even really know what to look for bc the stories are inconsistent. Is it a beast, an animal, a human? No idea!

He gets deep into the forest which concerns him because he hasn't been chased out yet and he's in the heart of the spirit's territory. He breaks for a minute to watch some deer grazing in the sun, admiring how they're not at all afraid of him for some reason, and a fawn runs by him playing with another, and he turns and hi! There's the spirit he's been tasked to kill, just watching him. At this point David is a little bit of a sight, in a wooden mask and a cloak of leaves.

Jasper raises his bow on fear and instinct, the arrow ready to go, but doesn't fire right away, frozen. David walks closer, hand held out, and gently turns the arrow down without a word and Jasper relents easily. David walks by continuing on his way and Jasper follows him. Eventually they get to talking as they walk, and once Jasper see's David's face and smile for the first time this Bozo is done for.

It watches him, emotions hidden behind the wooden mask, eyes shadowed, as Jasper holds his hand out hesitantly. The spirit’s head tilts, the leaves rustling, and offers it’s hand. Jasper takes it, turning it palm up and gently wiping the dried blood away, hearing a soft hum from the spirit as he works. Once it’s palm is clean of blood, nothing left but a small red dot where the arrow had broken skin, Jasper looks back up and gasps, his heart racing once more. But it’s not from fear this time. The spirit had lifted the wooden mask when Jasper was engrossed with cleaning the wound, watching him with a very human face. His eyes are green, not as striking as spring grass but a little more towards teal, watching him curiously. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose are scattered with freckles, and Jasper can see a few strands of auburn hair falling beneath the mask, obscuring one of his eyes just a little bit. Jasper stands rooted to the spot by surprise, entranced by the spirit’s eyes, his gentle expression, the slow upturn at the corners of his mouth as a most beautiful smile lights up his face. Oh no.

So basically they hang out, get to know each other, David shows Jasper around the forest, places people would usually get chased out of (it's based on ill intent, and even though Jasper starts off thinks he'll have to kill the forest spirit, it wasn't ever gonna happen even because he's not like that!)

And because this killing never happened, Jasper just kind of... doesn't go back. At first he's just camping out until morning to head back, but he ends up staying for another day. And another, and so on. And what if he goes back, lies and says he didn't find anything? Will they send someone else out here to try to hunt down David? He doesn't like the thought

Eventually more people DO show up, assuming Jasper's dead or abandoned the job. They scuffle because he's not going to let these assholes kill David, but he's outnumbered and gets hurt Bad because they'd gotten separated in the fight and David can't reach him in time.

They share a few last moments, David promises to find Jasper again in another life if he'll wait to be found. He passes on some magic to help Jasper's spirit come back. He doesn't know when or where, but he knows he'll find Jasper when the time is right.

Fast forward, David's forest is shrinking as society expands and evolves, picking off his trees from all directions so he can't stop it from happening as it's all taken for building and clearing space. Every tree and every animal killed weakens his powers as a forest spirit, and eventually finds himself in the modern world with nothing left to call home, so he has to adapt and live amongst humans.

He's just starting to wonder if he's missed Jasper, that he's lost everything, when they meet again! Where? Oh yeah I'm gonna be that guy we're going classic COFFEE SHOP BABY. He doesn't realize right away because his head is down reading, but he hears that name called out at the pickup counter. He's met a few other Jaspers but none of them have ever been his, but despite how long it's been he KNOWS this is his Jasper finally.

Jasper sees David when he turns from the pick up counter and he's hit with this sense of familiarity, painfully so, even though he's pretty sure he's never seen this man before. But something pushes him to walk over and ask to sit, and after a few awkward moments, he asks if they've met before.

David's like ELATED on the inside because he finally found Jasper again, but J clearly doesn't remember him on the surface level and he doesn't want to freak him out so he's like "yeah a long time ago"

They chat for a bit to get reacquainted, David offering vague and careful answers, as close to the truth as he can get without scaring Jasper off. They eventually leave the coffee shop to walk and talk for about an hour when it starts getting late and David excuses himself with an offer to talk more another time so he doesn't overload Jasper and give him time to think.

Before they part ways, David abruptly moves forward and wraps the other man in a hug, startling Jasper into sucking in a soft breath. “I’m sorry,” he breathes as Jasper stands only a little tense in his arms. “I just… missed you so much.” Jasper remains still, flushed, his heart racing. “Um, did… were you...” he trails off, wondering how he could forget this man who seems to know him so dearly and how he could possibly forget... “It’s hard to explain,” David says in a thin, wavering voice, that hint of sadness creeping in once more. Sadness and longing, as if he’d lost something very dear. Jasper’s not used to being dear to someone, and he feels his heart constrict at the raw emotion in this man’s voice. Jasper searches his memory, trying so hard to recall. He has to remember. David is so sweet, but holding back, maybe trying not to push him. He has to remember for him. He closes his eyes tight, returning David’s embrace. He hears the ginger take in a shaky breath, his hands trembling where they rest on Jasper’s shoulders. He keeps his eyes shut. He searches, desperately searches. There has to be reason for the kindle of a flame he’d felt upon first catching David’s eyes in the coffee shop. There has to be something, he’s not just some guy he’d met once before, they must have been close, but he can’t remember anyone in high school he’d been friends with and parted ways, or junior high, or even grade school. So where where where does David fit into this picture? Where are those missing pieces that he hadn’t realized had been missing? Why does he need them back so badly? “It’s okay that you don’t remember,” David whispers hoarsely. “If it helps, I once told you I’d find you again, if… if you would wait for me.” Jasper sucks in a breath as flash of a memory rips through the uncertain haze around David. Trees, open sky, birdsong, a wolf… “We-” he cuts off, voice catching. “We met in a forest…?” he trails off hesitantly, trying to remember when he’d ever been in a forest. He hates camping but his parents had taken him when he was younger. But would it have been that long ago? “Yes,” David replies softly, amazed, pulling back to look at him with wide eyes. Green eyes, not so striking as spring grass, but more teal… Jasper’s breathing a little shaky now, brows furrowed as he searches the ginger’s face. His head starts to hurt, a wince pulling at his face. “Are you alright?” David asks softly, concerned, reaching out to hesitantly cup Jasper’s face, unable to fight back the old gesture. His heart races at the familiar warmth, those eyes staring right into his soul, begging to be remembered even though David is being so patient on the outside. “Yeah yeah just- headache,” Jasper explains. “Why- why wouldn’t I remember you? Did something happen?” he asks in confusion, looking a little pale, his heart clenching at the way David hesitates. “Jasper, you don’t look well,” David shushes softly, running his thumb just below his eye. “Why don’t we pause this for now- would you like to sit down and rest for a bit? And maybe after some water, if you feel up to it, we can talk more…?” he asks hesitantly. “Yeah,” Jasper immediately replies, because the more time he spends with David, the stronger this feeling is becoming. A nagging sensation that he’s forgotten something, someone important. And he wants so badly to untangle this whole mess. He wants to know.

This is getting way too long I'm sorry but that's the TLDR!! Here's some concept sketches for David and you can see where the Princess Mononoke vibes come in as his look was heavily inspired by San but more... David

And he's got a beast form!

[mortifiedatbeingknown]

"An Odd Little Thing" (Pt. 14)

Masterpost:

“W-whoah, hey! What the hell?!” 

She whirled around as one of her earbuds tumbled from her ears, knocking her out of her daydreaming. There was her robot, dirty and dented with an eye cracked to boot frantically scrabbling at her legs in an attempt to climb. Behind him were two other presences she hadn’t noticed before; twin girls, wide-eyed and gaping. One was slowly backing away, the other stood her ground, but neither looked very happy to see her. 

Good. She had a bad feeling about them anyways. In a flash she had scooped up the robot in her arms and turned to face the little strangers, stretching  up  to her full height. 

“Can I help you?” She asked harshly. 

“Uh, yeah!” The bold one said. “That’s our OLI you got there!” 

“Can’t you give him back?” The other said. 

Her grip tightened. “You…you used to own him?” 

“Not ‘used to, we do!” 

“Yeah, we were looking for him everywhere!” 

“Is that so…?” 

She took another look at the girls, grateful that both goggles and mask hid her expression. They didn’t certainly look like the type to break their robot to pieces and stuff him with trash before leaving him out to rust, but then again, what would that type even look like? She’d never really thought about it, content to imagine them as shadowy imps or faceless monsters. To see them standing there, pouting, eyes turned upwards with false innocence… It made her feel a little bad. These were just kids, after all. It was very possible they had no ill intent at all. Maybe they were just playing.  Maybe they didn’t know any better. Maybe they were just—

And then her robot buried his face in her chest, sobbing with a voice box she could now tell was irreversibly broken. 

“So, you two are the one who broke my robot’s eye? I just got that replaced, you know. And those aren’t cheap!”

The bold one sputtered. “He’s not yours, he’s ours! Besides, Mom can just pay to fix it anyways!” 

“Oh, so is that why you abandoned him in the trash?” 

The shyer one sniffled. “B-but we didn’t! We just lost him…and we were so scared… you can’t take him away from us now, that’s too mean!” 

She laughed, long and loud. “Excuse me? I know better than anyone how you treat your OLI. I don’t think you get to tell me  what’s ‘too mean.’ “ 

“Well can’t you just give him back?” 

Had they listened to a word she’d said? “No!” 

“Why not?!” 

She glared down at them, sunlight glinting off of her goggles. “Because unlike you, I actually know how to take care of him.” 

“Yeah? W-well…that doesn’t mean you can take him!” 

She turned her back and began to gather up her things with one arm, her robot firmly grasped in the other. They were done here. 

But apparently, the twins had different ideas. 

“You’re a thief you know that?” One yelled. “You’re stealing Ollie!” 

She didn’t even stop. “You can’t steal something that was already abandoned.” 

“But we didn’t—!” 

She cut them off. “If it’s in the trash, you resign ownership. That’s the law. I wasn’t stealing.” 

She didn’t really know if that was the case, but what was the chance of them knowing that? She just needed to get them off of her back. If they actually contacted the police… they were rich enough to cause a hassle. 

“But we didn’t know that! It was an accident!” 

“Yeah, you have to give him back!” 

“So you can hurt him all over again?” 

“Th-that’s—” 

“That’s enough. Run along now, we’re done here.” And with that, she walked away. 

“Ollie!” The twins screamed, rushing towards him. She hastened her footsteps. “Ollie, come back!” 

“We need you!” 

“Mom won’t let us get a new one!” 

Their voices faded into the distance as she walked further away. Finally, peace. 

“Good riddance.” She muttered under her breath. That problem dealt with, she turned back to her robot. Her robot, who had not stopped trembling since she picked him up. Her robot, who wept the only way he could, bursts of static and rapidly flickering eyes. Her robot, who she know learned had a name she ought to have guessed far, far earlier. 

“Ollie?” 

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

Bad. 

Bad bad bad bad bad bad badbadbadbadbad—

He’d ruined everything. 

And he couldn’t even say he was sorry. 

He’d broken his legs. He’d broken his voice box. He’d broken his eye. That’s all he did. Just break and break and break until… until what? When would the monster stop and give up? When would she realize just how much time he made her waste? How much money he’d cost her? 

When would she realize that he just wasn’t worth it? 

“They’re gone, Ollie.” The monster said, prying him from her jacket. “It’s alright.” 

But it wasn’t. It would never be alright, not as long as he was there, messing up her life. 

But as it was, he could only shake his head vehemently. 

“Come on, let’s go home.” 

And this time it was the monster who hugged him close. 

[neuroticboyfriend]

unreality under cut. please do NOT reality check me. long post, check tags for tws.

ever since my first hospitalization i have been dealing with constant derealization. im assuming its the combination of the trauma of the ward and the trauma of all the gaslighting against my system that made me become frontlocked for years. but bc im schizophrenic, that derealization quickly turned to delusion. a simulation delusion, which lead to my 2nd and 3rd admissions (one to state).

the only way i had of coping with it was to finally be like. i dont know if things are real but im going to live life anyway. and thats where I've been at for the past 5 years. ive lived the past 6 years believing nothing was real, and on good days, just not being sure. i put it to the back of my mind the vast majority of the time, not even conscious of it, because if i think too hard about it, i spiral.

but now that ive had my already fragile sense of reality destroyed by being committed again... i can't ignore it. im broken. this all may be a dream - i just had a nightmare where i got put back in, and then had a false awakening within the dream which told me it (being in the ward) was reality. or maybe i died one of these nights and this is my hell. also thinking of the last thursday hypothesis. i dont know but i dont think its real. it may be, but i have no reason to believe that.

even if things arent real i would do anything to believe they are again. but i think the only way for me to do that is heal my system and live my life, securely and freely. but i cant do it. the system wont let me. its too unsafe for me to exist as a plural person in this house, and i have no path out. no money, no where to go, no physical ability to be street homeless without imminent death or severe injury/illness. my basic needs are chronically unmet, including healthcare for my severe disability.

i have no real options left unless something gives. its all out of my control. and im beginning to seriously wonder if there's a point in trying to live anymore. there is no plan to live my life, like there was when i got out of state. because there is nothing to plan for. but where im at in that is, the end can wait another day. i still want a chance. i just want to be happy. thats all ive ever wanted.

i just see no future. nothing at all. it's empty and terrifying. i dont remember much good from my past. and now the present is fast falling apart. unraveling. my sense of time, reality, and self is nothing but ashes.

[lilac-gold]

OMORI AI-less Whumptober 2023

Contents Page:

DAY ONE: Sick Summary: Aubrey falls ill, unable to leave her room. Her mother doesn’t care, and certainly won’t let her friends come visit.

DAY TWO: Overworked Summary: Hero uses studying to cope with Mari's death. Unfortunately, staying up all night studying can lead to passing out at the most inconvenient of times.

DAY THREE: Isolation Summary: Unlike Hero and Sunny, Aubrey didn’t isolate herself. Her friends and family did so for her.

DAY FOUR: Hiding an injury Summary: Mari’s supposed to be perfect, not go running for help. Hero’s got enough of her worries on his plate without her bad knee too.

DAY FIVE: Held at gunpoint Summary: Someone’s got a gun at Hero and Kel’s school. Kel should be concerned for himself, but all he can think about is his brother.

DAY SIX: Mind control Summary: Under Bossman, Hero is a puppet. He has no say in what his body does, and no way to resist when it starts to hurt his little siblings.

DAY SEVEN: Flatline Summary: Basil hears his grandmother die. The sound of her flatlining sticks with him for hours afterwards.

DAY EIGHT: Panic Attacks Summary: Aubrey deals with things using anger. She can control that, but the panic rushing through her is a different matter entirely.

DAY NINE: Presumed dead Summary: In Black Space, he gets constantly ripped apart, and Omori doesn't seem to care. When he returns to Headspace, Basil learns that his friends ended up giving up on him completely.

DAY TEN: Collar Summary: Molly always treats him like he's less than human. Still, Omori really could've done without the constant reminder around his neck.

DAY ELEVEN: Paralysed Summary: Upon a mountain, freezing to death, Spaceboy can't move a muscle. He's beginning to dislike the numbness.

DAY TWELVE: Sacrifice Summary: The Recycultists have never been a threat, not really. Things change when Basil ends up in one of their rituals.

DAY THIRTEEN: Drowning (ALT Prompt) Summary: He's not a strong swimmer, and hasn't been since he was little. Still, Sunny jumps in after Basil, and wonders if he meant for this to happen.

DAY FOURTEEN: Grief (ALT Prompt) Summary: Unlike Mari, Hero leaves a note. Kel finds it just minutes too late.

DAY FIFTEEN: Transformation Summary: Spaceboy tries to fight the anger that threatens to overcome him every single time. It never works, and hearing that tape again is the last straw.

DAY SIXTEEN: Hospital Summary: Mari is familiar with hospitals, especially this one. One place she's never visited before, however, is its roof.

DAY SEVENTEEN: Hypothermia Summary: Maybe climbing a huge, snowy mountain in only her too-large nightgown and with no shoes wasn't the best idea. Aubrey's certainly starting to feel the chill.

DAY EIGHTEEN: Warm soup Summary: Sunny hasn't eaten Hero's food in years. Now, starving as he is, it tastes even better than ever.

DAY NINETEEN: "Why wasn't I enough?" Summary: Locked in the walls, Rococo's starting to go insane. He still doesn't understand what he did wrong.

DAY TWENTY: Stockholm syndrome Summary: Hero, touch-starved and grieving, craves even the tiniest scrap of love. Finding it in Sweetheart was inevitable, really.

DAY TWENTY-ONE: Near-death experience Summary: After Humphrey, his friends seem fine. Omori knows better.

DAY TWENTY-TWO: Punishment Summary: The guilty must be punished. Sunny can tell no-one, so the only one left to inflict punishment is him.

DAY TWENTY-THREE: Forced to watch Summary: When Kel is about to be strapped down to the dissection table, Hero begs to switch places. Kel hears every broken cry that follows as his older brother watches him get cut open.

DAY TWENTY-FOUR: Failed escape Summary: Hero tries to escape the basement. The man who took him films his punishment. (Inspired by @charismabee's 'found footage' one-shot in our Hero-centric Febuwhump earlier this year)

DAY TWENTY-FIVE: "Why didn't you save me?" Summary:  If Basil had been there even a minute earlier, he could have helped. Instead, he made everything infinitely worse.

DAY TWENTY-SIX: Curse Summary: Biscuit used to be able to talk. Now, the only person who understands him is his sister.

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: Immortal whumpee Summary: Mari was supposed to be dead. However, looking at herself in the mirror, she sure didn’t look like it.

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: Oxygen deprivation Summary: On a mission through the stars, something goes horribly wrong. Before he knows it, Spaceboy is struggling to navigate the way back as his lungs run out of air.

DAY TWENTY-NINE: "The easy way or the hard way?" Summary: Mikhael’s cocky attitude and overall lameness lands him in a bit of trouble when he gets on the wrong side of a group of delinquents at Closeby High. He only hopes the Hooligans come to his assistance soon.

DAY THIRTY: Mind games Summary: Rococo owes Sweetheart his everything, and he knows she loves him… Even if what she says sometimes doesn’t completely align with that.

DAY THIRTY-ONE: Crying Summary: Kel hasn’t let himself cry in years. After seeing Basil’s body in the bathroom, it’s all he seems able to do.

And so, the time arrives! I will be posting each of the above one-shots to AO3 under "Whumptober 2023", as well as here on Tumblr in a series of posts. I will add links to each day once completed, as well as a 'previous' and 'next' to each day on Tumblr. I hope that you stick around and enjoy this month, because it's going to get whumpy!

(In addition to this, I will be doing a collaborative work with @charismabee centred around every alternative prompt for this event. Each day will be set in a different Omori AU that we've created. She is also doing her own version of Whumptober alone, so check her out if you'd like to see more! <3)

[whitherwanderer]

18 // a fish out of water

It was, in all likelihood, a strange sight to behold from afar: a sniffling, red-faced duskwight girl sulking before a woman barely a third her own height who looked completely unprepared for this.

The duskwight took her shallow, gasping breaths as she attempted to calm herself, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve and apologizing profusely as the lalafell gave a shake of her head. “It’s quite alright, dear. Take a breath and tell me what's wrong.”

Another sniffle, the duskwight’s ash-colored ponytail bobbing with a nod. “There’s a-an illness spreading through my village,” she began, doing her utmost not to burst into tears once more. “A terrible fever. Many have already perished…” As her eyes glassed over again, it became evident that she’d quickly losing the battle.

“The Stillglade Fane has turned me away already. They won’t even let me speak to the Seedseers,” she lamented. “My mother has already succumbed, and my little brother is showing signs. Barely twelve summers old!” Already the dam had broken and she hiccupd through a soft sob, her pink-gray cheeks wet again.

“Oh, you poor thing,” the lalafell cooed. “Though they’re often a mystery to even us here in the city, we have to trust that the Seedseers have their reasons. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still try to aid you,” she said, reaching out to pat the girl’s… hip. It was the best she could do.

“There’s a number of herbs and teas we can send you with to try and break their fevers, but…” she murmured, tapping at her chin. “Perhaps I should go to your village with you to see for myself how we can best help. Which village did you say you were from?”

“Oh,” the girl croaked miserably. “You mustn’t, ma’am. I fear what would happen if you were to catch it yourself. Our own apothecaries were overwhelmed in a week and fell ill themselves. I couldn’t risk it.”

The lalafell’s kind gem-like eyes squinted in a simper. “You are sweet to fuss over me, dear, but are you not risking just that by coming here?”

The duskwight’s own hematite eyes, red-ringed and lids puffy, blinked at her as she stifled another sob.

“Nevermind that,” the lalafell said, lifting a hand. “What was it you needed?”

The girl paused, wringing her wrist. “...Mugwort, ma’am. If you have it.” And the lalafell nodded, as if expecting the answer.

“It’s funny,” she chuckled lightly. “Some of my mugwort plants were harvested earlier this week. I thought the rabbits had gotten to them so I harvested them to try to hedge off the biting, and then I noticed that the cuts were clean and carefully placed. Right above the branch nodes. I didn’t order any harvesting, but whoever did it knew a thing or two about the plants…”

The girl’s face tightened, her eyes glassing again as the lalafell raised a hand. “I could use someone like that around here, you know. Someone who knows plants and what they need to thrive. I would even consider offering the little rabbit a position.”

The girl sucked another shallow shaking breath and wiped her sleeve under her eye. “...You would? Just like that?”

“Just like that,” the small woman repeated. “If this rabbit arrives here at sunrise, I will make it official, my word to the Matron.” She smiled that bright, calm, motherly smile and tilted her head. “Now, should I still be worried about this imperiled village?”

With a hiccuping laugh, the girl shook her head.

[funny-cat-noms]

Eating Potter

In sixth year, someone cursed Harry, shrinking him to a foot, and he tries to find a cure, but little did he know that a blond Slytherin boy was in the room with him

———————————

Harry ran into an empty classroom, freaking out. Someone put a curse on him that shrunk him down to a size of around thirty centimeters (a foot).

 He struggles to climb onto the self, that had a book of curses, hoping that he can find a counterspell to it.

But like did he know that a blonde Slytherin was watching him from the corner of the room.

Harry pushed the book off the shelf, jumping down with it. He cracked his glasses as he landed on his face. 

“Bloody hell!” He mumbled under his breath, as he began to flip through the pages of the book. 

He just kept flipping page after page, not realizing that the Slytherin was slowly approaching behind him.

 Harry found he was looking for a page and immediately looked for his wand, which wasn’t in his pockets at all. He realized that he left it in the common room when he got into an argument with Ron about eating his candy.

When he thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. He saw a shadow appearing in front of him. He gulped as he hesitated to turn around to face the thing that was making it.

“Hello, Pottah,” Draco said, looking down at him. 

“Don’t do that again Malfoy! You scared the bloody hell out of me!”

“Sorry, Chosen One,” the blond said sarcastically.

“Don’t call me that! Now help me get back to my normal height, please,”

“How about hmmmm no,”

“What?!” Harry said, staring him in his silver eyes.

Draco responded snarkily, “Did I stutter? I said no”

He immediately snatched Harry up and stared at him, not saying a word.

Harry started to struggle in his grip.

“Draco let me go, NOW!”

“You’re so small, I could eat you up”

“Haha, so funny now let me go!” Harry said, trying to escape his hands still.

Draco just smirked and lift him closer to his mouth. Harry looked at him confused. 

Draco stuck out his tongue and licked the Gryffindor’s face. 

“You taste like butter beer,” Malfoy said with a smirk.

“Malfoy don’t you dar- MPFH!” Harry said but was interrupted by Malfoy sticking him into his mouth.

He started to salivate his face but cut his tongue on something sharp. He immediately pulled Harry out of his mouth.

Harry started yelling at him but Draco just told off his broken glasses and put them

in his pocket. He proceeded to look at the saliva-covered boy before shoving him into his mouth.

Harry squirms as Draco slowly licks his head and shoulders, yelling at him to let him out.

Draco just let's go and tilts his head back before gulping Harry’s head down. He started to lick the upper part of his chest, enjoying himself. While Harry struggled in his throat, getting squeezed, to his surprise, it wasn’t hurting him.

Draco gulped again, sending one-third of Potter in his mouth. He kept swallowing Potter until his feet were the only things left in his mouth.

He could feel Harry’s head entering his stomach, making him feel ill. He knew that Potter was too much for him to handle if he swallowed him all the way, he just wanted to scare Potter. He was about to cough him up until someone slammed the door open.

Draco gulped, accidentally swallowing Harry whole.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! I HAVE BEEN LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR YOU!” Pansy yelled, clearly pissed. “WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE FOR THE FEAST!”

“Sorry, lose track of time,” he responded, feeling the rest of Harry enter his stomach, making him full. He could feel Harry beginning to squirm, still yelling at him.

Pansy just grabbed his arm and dragged him to the dining hall.

Draco began feeling sick but sat down, not grabbing any food.

“Eat,” Blaise said, staring at him.

“I did this morning tho…”

“Pansy did he?”

“Yes,” she said eating her plate.

Draco barely talked and looked over at the Gryffindor table seeing Ron and Hermione looking around worried, probably looking for Harry.

“I’m going to go to the common room, I don’t feel well,”

“Ok,” Blaise and Pansy said in unison.

He got up and started to the common room, placing a hand on the tiny bump made in his slim figure. 

Harry wouldn’t stop squirming against his stomach walls, making him sicker.

“Stop moving Pottah!” He said.

Harry could hear his voice echo around him in the small space.

“LET ME OUT!” Harry yelled, kicking his gut more.

He clenched his stomach in response, stopping some of the abuse happening in his gut.

Harry kept trying to struggle but it was too tight to move now, so he just stand there. He could feel the walls move around him, the wetness of his stomach. He could also hear the growls, gurgles, and groans of the stomach trying to digest him, and Draco’s heartbeat and breath. It would be comfortable if he fitted into the small space.

“Are you going to digest me?” He finally asked as Draco walked into the common room.

“You would be half melted if I was,”

“Can you let me out now?”

“No!”

“WHAT?! WHY THE HELL NO?!”

“You kicked me into the gut too many times! Plus I am tired! So get comfortable,” he said laying on his bed, using a spell to change into his pajamas.

Harry kicked his stomach in response, pissed that he has to stay the night in the Slytherin’s gut. 

Draco rubbed the small bump sticking out until he yawned and snuggled his pillow next to him.

Harry could feel his body relax and heard his breathing and heartbeat slow down as he fell asleep.

Harry put a hand to the gut and gently rubbed it, he heard a gurgle in reply. Harry relaxes against it and closed his eyes, knowing he will be fine, as he fell asleep.

But what he didn’t know, this would of one of many times he would be stuck in here.

(this is my vore fic, I hope you enjoy)

[sadinasaphrite]

Whumptober Day 28 - Vil

Post-Overblot, Vil doesn’t like what he sees in the mirror. Rook helps him pick up the pieces. Rook/Vil

No. 28 IT’S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG

Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache

Read on AO3!

Fic under the Cut!

Ugly. There was no excuse for Vil’s behavior except that he had been absolutely, irrevocably ugly. He’d humiliated himself in front of his peers, came seconds away from committing unspeakable irreversible atrocities, and on top of it all, he’d lost to Neige. Again.

Vil stood alone in his bathroom, applying foundation with a shaking hand. Even if he didn’t feel ready to face the world after the hell that had been the SDC, there was no reason not to look the part. Perhaps he should plead illness and lay in bed like some wilting damsel in distress. Those who didn’t know what happened surely wouldn’t blame him for wanting to rest after the competition. And for those who did know… well. They wouldn’t blame him, either.

They’d been embarrassingly forgiving already. Even when Vil awoke after the incident, blot still dripping from his lips and fingertips, his companions had immediately done their best to assure him that the only person he’d hurt was himself.

As if that made things better. So what if no one was hurt? What mattered is that Vil tried to kill them all. If the others had not stopped him, Neige would be cold and dead at this very moment. And not just Neige, either. Epel, Kalim, Ace, Deuce, Jamil… even Rook, his beautiful hunter, all would be dead by his hand if he’d succeeded. To say he was still beautiful only because he failed was naive.

Vil let his hand fall, foundation only half applied, and looked in the mirror. Skin too pale, lips cracked and chapped, bags under his eyes, angry red scratches along one cheek… this wasn’t beauty. This was the face of a sad, pathetic man unable to own up to his own faults, and so resorted to lashing out at those around him. What had been his logic during the Overblot? The only way to become the fairest of all was to eliminate the competition? How foolish. That wouldn’t have brought him beauty. It would have only brought him solitude.

He was a monster.

His reflection wavered as tears filled his eyes. Vil covered his face with his hands, as if hiding his image would hide what he’d become. Nothing would ever change what he’d done. What he’d tried to do. He would always know the darkness he was capable of, and so would those closest to him.

What was it Rook had said? ‘The strength and pride to believe in yourself is what marks the true fairest one of all.’ Vil didn’t feel like he could believe in anything right now, much less himself. Which meant…

He looked back at the mirror. Pale skin had turned so red and blotchy that even the foundation couldn’t hide it. Bloodshot lavender eyes looked back at him.

Ugly.

He couldn’t stand to look at what a monster he’d become any longer.

Vil clenched his hand into a fist and struck the mirror as hard as he could. Glass shattered under his fist. Cracks sprouted along the mirror like spiderwebs and broken shards fell to the ground, tinkling against the tile. Pain seared through his fist and Vil let out a sob.

“Roi du Poison?”

Fear seized Vil’s heart. He couldn’t let Rook see him like this. Not after yesterday.

“Don’t come in!” He’d meant for the words to be harsh and cold, an order from a Queen to her Huntsman, but even Vil heard the panic that leaked into his voice. In a desperate move, he locked the bathroom door just in time for Rook to jiggle the knob.

“Don’t. Just… go away. Leave me.”

The doorknob fell still. Blood dripped from Vil’s tapered fingertips and splattered into the sink. His heart pounded in his ears, and he waited for Rook’s next move.

“My fair Vil,” Rook’s voice was soft and earnest as only Rook could express. “Neither heaven, hell, nor anything in between will stop me from coming to your aid when you are in need. Not even you.”

Vil knew a paltry bathroom lock would not stop Rook for long, but still he hesitated. Rook had seen him at his worst yesterday. The way Vil was acting now was no better, lashing out like a child having a tantrum.

“Please open the door,” Rook asked. “Let me help you.”

“I’m hideous,” Vil said, his last feeble defense.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Vil unlocked the door.

Rook didn’t make a scene when he entered the bathroom, for which Vil was grateful. Sharp emerald eyes flicked from the mirror, to Vil’s bloody hand, to his tear-streaked face. Without a word, he tenderly took Vil’s hand and cleaned the wound under warm running water. Soft, leather gloves stroked his skin between picking slivers of glass out of his flesh. Vil remained silent through all of it, staring at the wall as Rook worked, though the tears continued to run down his face.

Rook inspected the wound closely, then broke the silence.

“I think that’s all the glass. Do you feel any more? Flex your fingers for me.”

Vil did so. The lacerations stung, but no more than any other cut. He closed his hand into a fist and didn’t feel the telltale stab of more glass shards in his skin.

“No,” he said, and hated how thick his voice sounded.

Rook washed his hand once more, then patted it dry with a white hand towel. Vil’s blood shone starkly against the white cotton. Rook wrapped the towel around his wound and held his hand tightly between both of his own.

Vil hissed at the pressure and Rook stroked his wrist in apology.

“Désolé,” Rook said, “A little pressure to help the bleeding slow, then I’ll bandage it.”

“...The towel will stain,” Vil said.

“Then let it.”

“It won’t be pristine anymore,” Vil continued. “We’ll have to throw it out.”

“It will still be a perfectly good towel, stained or not.”

“No,” Vill pressed, “it won’t. Even cleaned, the stain will make it look filthy. It will be a blight on any bathroom that hangs it. It’s irreparably damaged. Disgraced. Ruined.”

A fat tear rolled down Vil’s cheek.

“Vil.”

A gloved thumb wiped away the tear. Vil choked back a sob and Rook gently cupped his cheek.

“You are not a dirty towel,” Rook murmured.

“How can you say that? How can you look at me, knowing what I’ve done, what I tried to do? How can you stand to touch me? I’m vile, I’m hideous, I’m—”

Leather fingers pressed against his lips and Vil fell silent.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen and I will tell you why,” Rook said, his gaze locked with Vil’s.

Vil tried to protest, but stilled as Rook stroked a thumb across his lower lip.

“Perfection is not beauty. A perfectly white towel may look nice, but it is no different from every other white towel beside it. To seek perfection implies there is a state of flawlessness that is attainable by any human, which is an impossibility destined to end in tragedy. You are not perfect, mon roi. Nor will you ever be perfect. But you are trying to be better. Every day, you wake up and try to be a better man than you were the day before. Even now, you want to be better than you were yesterday. Not only that, but you inspire the same in others. Myself, Epel, all of Pomefiore, we follow your example and strive to improve ourselves every single day. Because of you. And that, my fair Vil, is beautiful.”

The raw honesty in Rook’s voice cut Vil right down to the soul. Something inside him cracked and the last of Vil’s barriers gave way. He fell forward into Rook’s waiting arms and sobbed.

Vil cried like he hadn’t since he was a child. Ugly, wracking sobs shook his shoulders, tears smeared across his blotchy cheeks, snot ran from his nose, and he howled his misery, shame, and pain into Rook’s chest. Rook’s arms wrapped around him and held him close in a warm embrace, rocking him gently as Vil released the flood of emotion trapped in his aching heart.

When Vil’s tears finally ran dry, he sagged against Rook, utterly and entirely spent. He started to pull away, but Rook held him close. He gathered Vil into his arms and carried him to his room, laying him to rest in his bed. Vil lay exhausted and unresisting as Rook tenderly cleaned his face and bandaged his hand, then combed his hair. Vil only stirred when Rook began tucking him into bed like a child.

“Rook,” he said, his voice raw and hoarse, “no… I… I can’t. I have to get up. I—”

He started to sit up, but Rook stopped him with a firm hand on his chest.

“Non,” he said, gently urging Vil to lay back down. “Rest. There is nothing you must do today that I cannot do for you.”

“But I—”

Rook’s lips pressed against Vil’s forehead, and Vil finally stilled.

“Rest,” Rook whispered into his ear, then placed a gentle kiss to each of his cheeks before pulling away.

Vil let him, and watched as Rook tidied up. He only spoke up as Rook opened the door to leave.

“You’ll come back. Right?” His voice cracked. It was a foolish question, but he needed to hear the answer.

Rook turned and gave him a smile as brilliant as a sunrise.

“My dear Vil, nothing could ever keep me away.”

Then he was gone, off to put out the fires that Vil’s absence left burning. Vil relaxed into his bed and mulled over Rook’s words until sleep claimed him.

He wouldn’t let Rook down. He would be better.

[not-poignant]

11 & 15 :)

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

(Note: This one has several unpopular opinions re: authors rewriting fics in particular, so please just...do not keep reading if you've ever rewritten a story you've released on AO3 or rewritten a serial or something, because like, slakdfjas how I feel about what I do has nothing to do with how other people do their stuff, lol).

Hmm.

Okay, yes, I do have a darling graveyard. In total, since I started writing as a kid, I've shelved about 5-6 completed novels. Maybe more. I didn't do it while actively writing them, I finished them, really believed in them, and one day reread them and realised they would stay on my hard-drive. That's fine. I don't really grieve them. Some I feel nothing for. In fact not having many feelings about the story was one of the reasons I shelved it.

I am not, otherwise, a very brutal 'kill your darlings' person. I'm a big believer in restorative methods and problem solving. For anyone who is familiar with Clifton Strengths, Restorative is in my top 10. I would rather fix or mend something, than shelve it or give up on it, and that part of my personality is a perfect match with writing an ongoing serial.

Here's the thing, I write most of my serials in an ongoing way with no plan. If I abandon the serial, I abandon my readers who are invested in the serial. That's a very different process to writing a novel that no one else except maybe an editor or beta is seeing.

I have to be - imho - from an integrity perspective, accountable to the process. And the process demands that I not pull a serial halfway through and then replace it with something new or not replace it at all. Firstly, there will be readers who always prefer the first version, and that shafts them. And secondly, it is almost always possible to mend a story, or write yourself out of a cul de sac. I enjoy the problem solving, I enjoy thinking on my feet, and the moments of being blocked because I broke something in the story are vastly outweighed by the times I unblocked and let the river flow again.

This is also why when I edit Game Theory, I'll always leave the original on AO3. It's also why I haven't deleted fanfic I'm actually pretty ashamed of and couldn't reread again. Like I have het Glee fanfiction on my not_poignant account and I never want to read it again. I'm not deleting it. I'm not going to shelve it. People gave it kudos, they bookmarked it, and I don't know those people and I know they can read something better, but once it's up, I am accountable to that visibility. I know what it feels like to go back and read that one special fic that for some reason you just really love, only to find out it's been deleted. And yes, we can always download stories, but I can also just choose not to be a dickhead to my readers in that fashion, so I won't.

Putting the rest under a cut because well there's more but also I might be very Unpopular Opinion about this and I feel pretty strongly about it.

(There are of course valid reasons people delete their stories, like, 'this username is connected to my legal name and I'll get fired if these stories are found' (though they can always be orphaned / made anonymous), but 'I hate this story' to me is just... /thinks/ I don't really want to let my mental illness win or be more important than the folks who might really love that one story and find something important in it. That's just.... how I think about it - if I can make sure another reader never feels that kneejerk broken-hearted feeling of having a favourite fic deleted, even just a dumb little Glee fic that's terrible, then like, yeah I won't make them feel that way just because I feel something like shame or disappointment in something. Because I have the power to also not think about those stories and then it doesn't affect me lmao).

I always have very mixed feelings when authors remove or completely rewrite a fanfic for example on AO3 - it is obviously completely their right, I feel really sad on behalf of every reader who will forever miss that original version. And as a reader, I've had this happen to me. An author has removed or rewritten a story, and I just loved the original more. I've never loved a rewritten version of a fic more than the original version. Not once. Not ever. Some of us preferred the more raw and ugly version, that was less like a generic novel and felt less like 'I've learned how to publish books now so I'm going to polish this up even though that's not why almost any of my readers are here.' And I'm painfully conscious of that re: Game Theory lol.

I guess I have really strong opinions about this. I don't know how to explain it. I feel like once I put something in public, I have pledged a certain amount of loyalty to a story, and a certain amount of respect and dignity to the reader. My loyalty to the story is that I will make it the best it can be in my capacity at the time. My respect and dignity re: the reader is that I will respect their love of the thing, even at the expense of indulging the intrusive thoughts of a mental illness, even if I don't understand how anyone could love the thing.

Shelving a serial isn't really something I want to do, and that's the closest I think I come to 'killing your darlings.' These days, therefore, I'm just a lot more discerning about what long-term projects I commit to before I commit to them. Because once I'm in, I'm all in. I'd rather quit writing entirely than leave a big serial unfinished, delete it, and start something else instead. Like, how bad am I at writing if I can't mend what I broke?

(Again, this isn't how I feel about other people's writing, it's just very important to my process that I be accountable to the story and the characters once I get started. I suspect other authors instead are more accountable to the quality of the writing and in giving their readers the most 'perfect' version of a story ever, or maybe they're just more accountable to that niggling 'I could have done that better' feeling. It manifests in many different ways! My method works best for me, but it is very much tied in with my personal sense of ethics and values that I impose on myself and try and live by.)

As to grieving... There's one novel I really regret shelving the most, but that's because I shelved it for reasons partially outside of my control - it needs an Australian Aboriginal sensitivity reader who is comfortable reading m/m romance with explicit sex. After months and months of searching, I found someone, gave them an upfront $150 USD deposit (about 6 years ago now), with the rest to come later, and they disappeared with my money and never spoke to me again. Ever since then, I have looked occasionally for a sensitivity reader in that area, but I've kind of suspected it's too niche of a thing to need, and I also can't lose that much money again. I've never spent that much on a single marketing budget for Perth Shifters, for example.

That's a standalone Fae Tales novel set in the southern hemisphere, with an entirely new cast, called Tradewinds and I'd really love for y'all to read it, but I sadly don't see it ever happening.

That one I'm really sad about. And I guess I could rewrite it to have zero Aboriginal Australian representation even though it's set in Australia, but like... :/ Y'know? Not ideal. But maybe that's the only way this story can exist, or maybe it just shouldn't exist in the first place. So it's shelved. A very few select people have read it, and everyone who's read it has enjoyed it, but none of those people have been Aboriginal Australian, and you know, I don't want to make some kind of horrendously awful fuck-up so we just... quietly leave that one in its folder and forget it exists most of the time.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

Mmm, I only write in the margins of some books, and only if they're mine.

I dog-ear my pages, I don't care how expensive or special edition the book is. If it's mine, I can do what I want with it. I see no point in being precious about physical objects, when what matters are the words inside, and not whether the page has a crease in it.

I don't read in the bath because I don't have baths. But also because I want to empty my head in the bath, so I just want to not think about anything at all.

I don't judge people who do any of these things to their own property. I get mad if they do it to my property (basic respect bruh), and I do judge the people who judge me for what I do with my own property. They're in the same category as grammar pedants, imho.

--

From the Weird Writer Asks meme!

[psychedelic-ink]

Alright, there are a couple of things I want to get to for 2023 and as I do with most things I decided to make a list! Also, I thought this would be a good way to show you all what to expect this year 🧡

This list mostly focuses on ongoing and upcoming series. I'll also be writing oneshots whenever inspiration strikes, and my askbox is open for drabble/oneshot requests!

--

under the cut 💗

FICS LEFT OVER FROM 2022

Finishing i've got you darlin'

This is my moonknight x reader x din series. I'm three chapters in and after finishing my winter wips I'll be focusing on this one for the time being. I started this fic with such excitement and even tho that excitement hasn't died out I kinda stopped? More is to come soon!

Finishing Million Dollar Man

Again I started this one with such excitement but after writing the first two chapters I got stuck? But I've been outlining the third chapter so after writing a chunk of IGYD my main focus will be on this

Adding more to A Broken Prince

Yes, I will be writing more pianist!ezra 🧡 this isn't necessarily a series but I really want to revisit the world

When it comes to my other ongoing series, I plan on switching between them all, adding chapters when I feel inspired. Those are generally more loose-fit type fics so they're easier to write.

UPCOMING SERIES FOR 2023

Prosody (ezra x fem!reader/ofc)

This series will feature the events that happened before Prospect, I just thought of this one during my rewatch on New Years so it's still quite fresh but there is a playlist if anyone wants to listen to it lol

Conversations with Starfish (fisherman!jack daniels x fem!reader/ofc)

will be coming out during spring/summer

Your brother, after a long struggle with illness, passes away and leaves you his small house on a serene island in the Aegean sea. In his final wish, he asks that you leave your tedious job and start anew. As you embrace this change, you meet a fisherman by the name of Jack. Though his demeanor may not be warm at first, you are determined to make the most of this new chapter in your life and hope to one day win his friendship.

More of Tattooist Ezra & Din

This will most likely be a loose-fit series

**If you're excited to read any of these please let me know so I know what to prioritize first 🧡🧡🧡 I hope you all had great new years!

[daddyy333]

Broken | Eddie Munson x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

Word count: 6.6k

Please do not skip the TW, this is a very very very very triggering story I honestly contemplated not posting it and just writing it out for the hell of it the only reason I feel remotely comfortable doing it is because of the new mature rating feature

TW: DRUGS, BEING DRUGGED, RAPE (NOT JUST MENTIONS, THIS STORY DESCRIBES A PERSON BEING RAPED IN PRETTY VIVID DETAIL), SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT (NOT JUST MENTIONS, THIS STORY DESCRIBES A PERSON TRYING TO TAKE THEIR LIFE IN VIVID DETAIL), THERAPY, DEPRESSION, MENTIONS OF BEING ON MEDICATION FOR MENTAL ILLNESS, LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANY

summary: another girl does things to Eddie without his consent, and it only gets worse from there

Story begins after the cut

—————————————————————

“Hey, sexy” a tall blonde said as she tapped Eddie on the shoulder. Eddie was relaxing at the bar after his show at the Hideout. He planned to finish this beer and then call you to bring him home since you made him stop driving drunk, even if it was only one beer.

The woman slipped a roofie in his beer and he turned around, grabbing it to take a sip absentmindedly. He chuckled and said “I’m flattered, miss, but I have a girlfriend back home who I am very much in love with. No thanks,” he gave her a sympathetic smile and she sighed.

She reached forward playing with his hair and he tried to pull back but she wouldn’t let up. He felt really uncomfortable but didn’t know what else to do except wait it out. He kept rejecting her, sipping on his beer the entire time until about 10 minutes went by and he felt woozy and unstable.

“You okay?” She asked and he cleared his throat. He sighed and said “c-can you help me to the bathroom? I think I h-had too much to drink” “sure,” she said and got up, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around her waist and quickly getting him to the hotel across the street.

“Hey- hey w-what are you doing? Stop, please I just- can you call me a cab or something?” He said and she sighed, shoving him in the room and locking the door. He stumbled, grabbing onto a dresser and trying to get to the door.

“No- no I have a girlfriend. Please, I don’t want to have sex with you” he said and she groaned. She slapped him and then pushed him on the bed, he felt so weak, so dizzy. He whimpered and tried to push her off but it wasn’t working, how the hell could she possibly be stronger than him, she’s like half his size.

That’s when it hit him. He’s been drugged.

“Hey, hey- fuck- I-I said no! Get o-off of me I said m- no, I don’t want to h-have sex with you!” he yelled and she slapped him again, getting his shirt off of him. He whimpered and kept trying to push her off even though his muscles felt like jello.

She got his pants off and he let out a sob, he didn’t think this actually happened to men. Sure, he’d heard of it but you it was more common to hear about a girl being raped buy a man twice her size. He felt pathetic, how could this tiny woman have so much power over him, enough to keep him from getting out from under her.

“Please- stop! N-No- no!” He said, kicking his legs as she took off his underwear. She kept trying to make him hard, and it wasn’t working because the last thing he was was horny right now. He couldn’t stop crying, he just hoped you would believe him that he didn’t want this and it wasn’t his fault.

“Get off! I don’t w-want th-this- please stop!” He cried, trying endlessly to push her away. She sighed, grabbing him and shoving him into her. He screamed, kicking his legs out and trying to hit her and get her off of him.

“No! No- stop!” He cried and she pinned his arms down about his head, grinding on his completely soft penis. He sobbed and sobbed, she kept hitting him, most on his body and a few times in his face. She started kissing his neck, suckling a hickey onto it.

He felt so stupid, she was so small how could he not push her off. He screamed and screamed, crying for help. She stuffed his mouth with the bedsheet, muffling his cries and screams.

She came twice on him, and then went to the bathroom to clean herself up. Eddie whimpered, breathing hard from his tears. He felt so weak, so vulnerable, so pathetic. He passed out from how hard he was crying, upset that this happened to him, worried that you wouldn’t believe him, wondering what the hell life would even be like without you in it.

She left him there, and when he woke up the sun had risen. He sat up and winced, there was bruising all over his body, and he felt like shit. He teared up, remembering what happened to him last night and then thinking of you. He stood up, his body shaking from the crying and the trauma of it all.

He cleaned himself up and put his clothes back on, tears continuously running down his cheeks. He got in his van and drove home, becoming more numb as the minutes passed. He stopped crying, he just stopped feeling anything.

“Eddie?! Where the fuck have you been? You were gone all fucking night, you said you’d call me around midnight to pick you up, it’s 11am what the hell is wrong with you?” You said, angry and frustrated after hours of worrying sick about him.

He looked up and said “I-I’m sorry, okay just…l-let me explain-” “the hickeys on your neck tell me all I need to know. You piece of shit!” You said and shoved him going to his room to get your stuff. He wasn’t going to stop you. It was easier to tell you he cheated than to tell you a tiny little woman managed to drag a full grown man into a hotel room and rape him and go through everything that happened to him and say those things out loud.

You came back out a few minutes later, all your stuff in a box he hadn’t gotten around to throwing away yet. You ripped off the heart locket he bought you on your 1 year anniversary and said “fuck you, Eddie Munson!”

The floodgates opened again, and now he was feeling the after effects of the roofie. He ran to the bathroom, throwing up over and over again till his stomach ached with emptiness. He whimpered, sitting against the wall as he sobbed.

He should’ve fought harder, he wanted to. But he couldn’t, not when the truth was so embarrassing. Wayne was upset at him for “cheating” on you too, and even threatened to kick him out. It broke him, making him slice into his forearms enough to make him dizzy from blood loss.

Everyone noticed he was down at school, and he even cancelled Hellfire. The boys knew you two had broken up but they didn’t know why. Now, sitting on his bathroom floor a little over a week after everything went down with a fresh razor in his hand and his suicide letters to you and Wayne sitting on the toilet, he felt so broken.

He wished he would’ve just told you the truth, maybe you would’ve believed him. He could’ve been in your arms, being comforted by you and being loved by you. But he had to be a fucking pussy and he had to just let you go instead of admitting what really happened. God he felt like such a fucking idiot.

He contemplated not doing it for a moment, wondering if maybe this wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t let himself think about what this would do to Wayne, he just wanted to feel better and if it hurt Wayne in the process he wasn’t going to let it affect him at this point. He had nothing to lose, you were the last good thing in his life.

He sliced deep in his wrists, groaning from the pain. He watched the blood pour out, pain erupting in his body. He cried and cried, whimpering your name a few times. He just wanted you so bad. He heard a muffled sound of the door opening, he didn’t realize Wayne would be home so soon.

“Sh- shit” he mumbled, more tears running down his cheeks. He felt his heart rate slowing and was struggling to breathe, but he didn’t regret it. It made him feel better. “Eddie? Eddie where the hell are- holy shit- what the hell?! Eddie what the fuck did you do?!” He yelled, bending down and grabbing his wrists and realizing the severity of the situation as his eyes filled with tears.

“No….l-let me die” he whispered hoarsely, Wayne let out a shaky breath, dragging him to the phone in the kitchen and dialing 911 with bloody hands. “P-Please, please you have to help, m-my nephew- he tried to kill himself. He sliced his wrists, he’s bleeding so much- fuck!” He said and trapped the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could keep pressure on the cuts with kitchen towels.

Eddie groaned, his lips turning blue and the throbbing in his wrists getting unbearable. He talked to the lady on the line, telling her the address and making sure to keep pressure on his wrists.

“Don’t tell me to calm down- god damn it, boy don’t you die on me. Keep your fucking eyes open!” He said and shook him. He sobbed softly, holding him as he realized he might have to bury his poor little nephew. He whimpered when the ambulance arrived, really hoping it wasn’t too late.

They got him to the hospital, Wayne sat in the waiting room for hours, covered in Eddie’s blood. Tears never stopped flowing, he couldn’t get that image of him on the bathroom floor out of his mind.

With shaky hands, he pulled the notes out of his pockets and put yours back once he realized which was which. He wasn’t going to read yours, that wasn’t his place.

I’m sorry, Uncle Wayne. I know this probably hurts you a lot, and I’m sorry you had to find me like that. But I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve just been going through a lot since losing y/n, and there’s other stuff I’ve been dealing with that no one knows about that’s too hard for me to handle anymore. This wasn’t an easy choice to make, but I can’t keep living such a miserable life. I’ve got nothing left, I’m 20 and I’m still in highschool, I lost the best thing that ever happened to me and I’ve got nothing but the same miserable life ahead of me. I wish I could stay for you, but the only way I’ll feel better is if I’m not here anymore. I’m so sorry Uncle Wayne. I love you so much, please don’t be mad at me.

Wayne felt like shit. He should’ve known something was seriously wrong. Maybe if he got a better job he could be home more and he could realize his nephew was thinking about taking his life. He promised Eddie he’d always take care of him and protect him, and he broke that promise.

God only knows how much time passed by, but eventually the doctors came and called for the “Family of Edward Munson”. He instantly stood up and they explained to him that Eddie was stable, but he lost a lot of blood. It’s going to take a long time to recover and he’s going to have to stay on suicide watch for at least a week and if he’s okay to go home after that he can with a year of mandatory therapy twice a week.

When he got to Eddie’s room Eddie was unconscious, bandages around his wrists and an oxygen mask on him. “We uhm…also noticed some kind of bruising, like he was beat up possibly. I know you said you aren’t home a lot and we don’t suspect you but do you know anyone in his life that could be hurting him physically?” The doctor asked and Wayne gasped.

“B-Bruising? Eddie’s being hit? God, I-I don’t know who would do that, I’d never lay a hand on my boy. I-I’ll find out that’s for damn sure” he said and they nodded. Wayne sat next to him with a shaky breath, grabbing one of Eddie’s hands that was tied to the bed so if and when he did wake up he couldn’t hurt himself.

Wayne cried softly, resting his head on the edge of the mattress. “I’m so fucking sorry, Eddie. This shouldn’t have happened to you. You shouldn’t have ever felt like this, I promised I’d protect you from everything and I-I broke my promise, Ed. I just wish you would’ve talked to me. I would’ve listened with open ears, I would’ve gone in late to work if you needed me to, I would’ve given everything to not see you bleeding out on my damn floors” he said and sighed shakily, sniffling.

He stayed with him all night until a nurse kindly encouraged him to go home and clean up and shower and stuff. He got home and could barely handle the sight of his nephew’s blood all over the trailer. He grabbed the phone and called you, knowing that’s what Eddie would probably want.

“Y/l/n residence” you said softly and he sighed. He took a deep breath and said “hey, y/n…it’s me, Wayne. Look, uhm, something happened to Eddie, something really really bad and I’d really appreciate it if you could come to the trailer for a bit…please” You were quiet for a few moments, he thought you were getting ready to hang up but then you said “yea, yes I can do that Wayne. Plus I should probably give him his stuff back”

You two hung up and he changed his clothes and showered, crying the entire time. He couldn’t stop looking at all the blood, he couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie.

He was sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette when you arrived. You could see him crying and your heart dropped, you thought he was exaggerating. You’d always have a special place for Wayne in your heart so you came anyway, but obviously something really bad had happened.

You ran over and wiped his tears, frantically asking what happened. He let out a shaky breath and said “Eddie uhm…Eddie tried to take his own life. I found him in time and was able to get him to a hospital but he’s really weak and he’s gonna be in recovery for a while. I’m not sure why, exactly. He wrote notes for just me and you, but I haven’t read yours and I don’t plan on it” “oh god…” you sobbed, your hand over your mouth in an attempt to keep you from crying.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart” he said and pulled you into his embrace. You whimpered and said “Wh-What if it was b-because of me?” “No, no sweetheart he wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sure it was more than that” he said and you cried into his chest, you couldn’t believe Eddie was so upset about the breakup, that it would drive him to do this.

“You can come see him if you’d like. You don’t have to” Wayne said and you nodded, standing up and reached for Wayne’s hand. He drove you to the hospital as you read the letter, more tears running down your cheeks.

Hi, y/n. I hope that this doesn’t hurt you too much, it probably won’t considering you hate my guts after what I did. But it all just got to be too much and I didn’t know what else to do. It’s not your fault, babe, I promise. Please don’t blame yourself, I did this because I wanted to. Now that I’m gone and you don’t have to deal with me anymore I just want to let you know that I didn’t cheat on you. I don’t really want to tell you what actually happened, it’s honestly just embarrassing but I hope you know I’d never ever hurt you like that. I hope you get to move on and find a guy that can actually support you, a guy with a dumb college degree and I hope you get a white picket fence and those 2 babies you wanted and I hope you get everything you ever wanted because that’s all I want for you. I love you so much baby, I wish only the best for you. See you soon, my love

When you got to the hospital you were a mess. You just couldn’t believe Eddie was feeling this way and didn’t tell anybody. Didn’t go to anyone for help. Maybe he didn’t want help. Maybe he really didn’t want to be here anymore. What if he was upset when he saw you?

He was still unconscious, and you sat down in the chair Wayne pulled up for you and held Eddie’s hand. He sighed and said “I’m gonna go try to eat something, will you be okay with him alone?” “Mhm. Thank you Wayne” you said and he smiled.

You sighed shakily, pressing a small kiss to Eddie’s hand. “I still love you. Like, a lot. I don’t know what you meant when you said you didn’t actually cheat on me but…it’s fine. Even if you did, I love you too much to actually let you go forever. So I need you here. Alive, and happy, and in my arms for the rest of our miserable little lives. I love you, Ed’s. I love you. Please, please open your fucking eyes so I know your okay” you said, your lip beginning to tremble.

You buried your head into the mattress, whimpering and crying softly. A few minutes passed, and you felt Eddie squeeze your hand slightly. You looked up and said “Ed’s? Eddie? Eddie, wake up. Come on, I felt you squeeze my hand, you got this”

He groaned and a few minutes later his eyes fluttered open. You cried even more, burying your face in the mattress again. “Hi…are you okay? Do you remember what happened?” You asked and he instantly teared up at the sight of you.

You sniffled and he said “mhm…” “okay…let me call the nurses to check on you. You’ve been out for a while,” you said and pressed the nurses button next to him. They did a little check up, concluded that he was doing well and let you be with him. Eddie was on his side now, tears pouring out non stop.

He wasn’t talking to you. He refused. He didn’t ask to have you kicked out but he wouldn’t talk to you. You stood up, your breath shaky and gasping as you tried not to cry more. You whimpered, seeing Wayne come down the hallway. “He- H-He won’t talk to me. He w-woke up and he’s fine, b-but he’s not talking” you said and got out of there as fast as you could.

You sat on a bench outside and let your head fall into your hands, sobs racking your body. You didn’t know what to do, you felt like this was all your fault. If you would’ve just stayed 5 more minutes maybe Eddie would’ve been able to tell you something that could’ve prevented this.

You still took care of him. When he was released about a week and a half later you got time off of work and still took care of him. You called a cleaning service for Wayne the day after you found out about everything and Wayne was forever grateful. You also went in and picked up some of the clutter around the trailer, but you didn’t mess with Eddie’s room because that’s his crazy little organized mess he has.

You made sure he ate at least once a day and got him in the shower every once in a while. It’s been nearly a month, he still barely talks to you. Or Wayne. Or anyone really. The kids were ripping the door off the hinges every damn day wanting to know why they couldn’t see and hangout with Eddie and it was hard not telling them but you barely knew the truth yourself.

He’s been going to therapy, but the therapist said he doesn’t talk much. But in your head that meant he was saying something so maybe he was trying to open up a little. Hopefully. You’re constantly worried he’s going to try again, that you’re going to go to the store or something and come back and find him the same way Wayne did.

He’s also been having nightmares, about what is the question. He won’t talk about them at all, to anyone. He pushes you off of him every time you try to calm him down. You felt overwhelmed constantly, risking losing your job just to stay and take care of him, turning your whole life into caring for him and barely getting a thank you in return.

He hadn't been eating much in the last few days, and he wasn’t sleeping either because he’d been having a lot of nightmares and he kept being so angry and aggressive and harsh towards you, you couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Why are you even here? I don’t need you anymore, I’m fine” “will you quit shoving food down my throat all the damn time? It’s so fucking annoying” “Stop bothering me, damn it”

You knew he was going through a lot and hopefully probably didn’t mean it but it still hurt. You thought you were being helpful, and supportive but it was obvious that you were only bothering him at this point. At least he talked to you today.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Wayne said as he got out of his truck. You were smoking a cigarette, tears streaming down your face as you thought about everything. “I’m fine, Wayne. Go get some sleep” you said and he sighed. He sat next to you and took the cigarette from you. He took a drag and said “it’s bad for you, now tell me what’s going on” he put it out and you sniffled.

“It’s just…Eddie’s been a little mean today. I-I guess I’m more sensitive than usual or something, it doesn’t usually bother me but today it did and I don’t know I can’t handle it anymore. Most of what he says is true anyways, about how he doesn’t need me anymore and I should stop bothering him. He’s…he’s fine now, he really doesn’t need me. At this point why the hell am I even staying here? We’re not together anymore, he can take care of himself. I guess I’m just doing it for me at this point, which is selfish as shit but- fuck, how am I just supposed to live the rest of my life without Eddie in it?” You said, wiping your tears away and letting out a shaky breath.

Wayne shook his head and said “I don’t know who raised that boy to be so damn disrespectful but it wasn’t me” He stood up, presumably to go yell at Eddie. You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from doing it and said “I- I don’t want you to yell at him, okay? He’s just going through a lot, he’s not himself right now. I don’t want to mess up whatever healing he has done so far”

“Y/n…he can’t treat you like this, it’s rude and disrespectful to you and your time you take to be here for him and to care for him” he said and you sighed. You let go and he bent down kissing your head. “I’m gonna go talk to him, okay? I’m not gonna yell, I’m just gonna talk” he said and you nodded.

Wayne knocked on his door and he heard Eddie sigh, sounding like he was annoyed. He opened the door and shook his head, he honestly couldn’t believe Eddie had the nerve to be this rude to you.

“I just found y/n crying on the porch smoking a cigarette because of you. Care to explain why you’re being extremely disrespectful and rude to her when she’s trying to take care of you and help you get better?” He asked and Eddie’s eyes widened a little.

You quit smoking a year ago, you didn’t care that Eddie still did it but you quit because it was expensive and it is really bad for you. It was obvious that this was really affecting you by the fact that you went back to smoking to relieve your stress.

“I just- I-I’m fine now. I don’t need her. I just don’t get why she’s still here” he said and Wayne rolled his eyes. He folded his arms and said “god damn it, Eddie, you cheated on her and she came right back to you to help you heal and get better. She could have thrown that note away and chose to let you suffer for the rest of your life but she chose to stay and to be here for you damn it. You don’t treat a woman like that, especially not the woman who’s taking care of you after you did what you did. I didn’t raise you like that”

“for fuck sake- I didn’t cheat on her!” Eddie said and Wayne scoffed. “Well then what happened huh? You had hickies for days, you didn’t leave the bathroom for hours cause you were so fucked up from whatever you did the night before, that all just happened all of a sudden?” he asked and Eddie sighed shakily.

His gorgeous puppy dog eyes filled with tears as he said “n-no god damn it I-I was drugged, r-raped and left in a h-hotel room by some girl after m-my set. Believe it or not, okay, but guys really do get raped too. My p-pathetic ass was barely able to speak full sentences, let alone p-push this girl off of me. I t-told her no so many times, I-I begged her to stop and she wouldn’t! I couldn’t stand to look so we-weak in y/n’s eyes and tell her that I couldn’t fight off a 100 pound girl, i-it’s too fucking embarassing and i-it’s easier if she just thi-thinks I cheated”

“Eddie…” Wayne said and Eddie sobbed. He scoffed and said “I-I know. I know it’s f-fucking ridiculous. I-I swear I- I-I didn’t want it” “hey, hey I believe you. I believe you, Eddie” he said, that explained all the bruises on him. Wayne sat next to him and pulled him into a hug, trying to calm him down.

“so…f-fucking pathetic!” he sobbed and Wayne quietly shushed him, smoothing his hair down. He calmed him down and kept trying to convince him to tell you, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want you to not believe it, it felt like a miracle that Wayne believed him. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if you didn’t believe him.

You cooked dinner that night as usual, and made more than enough for the three of you but couldn’t eat it. You were filled with stress, and all that stress took away your appetite. “I uhm…I’m gonna go. Like, permanently. Eddie c-clearly doesn’t need me anymore and we aren’t together so it’s not like I have a reason to be here anymore. I have my own life and I’ve spent enough of my time here anyways…” you said to Wayne, your stuff gathered up in your arms.

He bit his lip, trying not to say anything. He knew Eddie would kill him if he did, and he really wanted to, but he knew it wasn’t his place. “Okay uh…thanks for taking care of him” Wayne said and you nodded. You put your stuff in your car and then went back inside to say goodbye to Eddie.

“Hey…” you said as you came in, hoping he wouldn’t tell you to go away. He didn’t say anything, so you sat down next to him and said “I’m gonna…gonna go. You’re capable of taking care of yourself now, and it seems like I’m only bothering you at this point so I’m just gonna go. I hope you’ll be okay, Ed’s, and I want you to promise me you’ll go to therapy like you’re supposed to”

It took him a minute to muster up a response, the lump in his throat making it hard to talk. “mhm I promise” he said and you sighed. You kissed his cheek and left, and you’d think with how much he regretted not stopping you the first time he wouldn’t make the same mistake when he got a second chance but he did. He didn’t stop you, he just let you leave.

Uncle Wayne came in a few minutes later and said “you’re really not going to tell her? You’re just gonna let her go?” “I c-can’t…I just can’t do it, o-okay? She deserves b-better anyways” he said and Wayne sighed. He shook his head and left him alone, what else could he do? He couldn’t knock some sense into the little idiot so he was just gonna have to let it go.

Eddie got to a better place, he really went to therapy like he promised and eventually told his therapist what happened. He wasn’t the same, but he finished school and got a real job, and could almost afford to move out of Wayne’s trailer if he wanted. He was on some medications to help his mental health issues, and Wayne was really happy to see him doing better.

He still missed you tons. He thought about you everyday, all the time. Always listening in when he heard someone talking about you, Steve and Robin still kept in touch and subtly told him things about her to hopefully get him to make a move. They did the same with her, knowing these two absolutely could not go the rest of their lives without ever seeing each other again.

They didn’t know about why you and him broke up, or about what happened that night before you broke up, but they did know about his suicide attempt. When he told them, they were in complete and total shock. But they were relieved to hear he was in therapy and he was taking medication, and he was getting better. The friend group always asked each other if they were doing okay every once in a while, but they especially did after finding out Eddie had ever felt low enough to do that.

He wanted to see you again so bad, to hear your voice, feel your lips on his, hear your heartbeat as you cuddled up on his couch watching a crappy movie like you used to do all the time. The way you two left things was so messed up, he regrets every mean word he said to you.

So when you showed up on his door to see him, on purpose, he was shocked. It’d been about 5 months since you left “for good”, and he could tell something was up. “Y/n?” He asked and you took a deep breath.

“Hi uhm…I need you, Eddie. I tried to be okay without you and sure, I was fine…for like 4 days and then it sucked and it still sucks. A lot. I tried moving on, I tried going on dates and they all were total shitshows and 4 out of 7 of them just wanted sex so there’s that and honestly I don’t know if it was them that was the problem. I already hate myself for coming back after you cheated but I literally can’t be with anyone else. I need you and your creaky trailer and messy hair and your chocolate button eyes and your crazy music taste and your loud and perfect and cute little personality and I just….I need you. There’s no getting around that but I swear to god if you cheat on me again I’m gonna blow a fucking gasket” you said and he stood there, shocked for a moment.

“I’m sorry…” you said and he shook his head. He cleared his throat and said “no, no…it’s okay…it’s just, I-I mean I wasn’t expecting that you know cause I…I-” “I should go” you said and tried to turn around, but he stopped you. You sighed and said “Eddie I’m sorry that was not what I mean to do I just- just let me go we can pretend it didn’t happen”

“I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen I just…I’m shocked a little…” he said and you sighed, leaning against the railing next to the steps. He looked down and said “So what does this mean?” “I-I don’t know” you said and he cleared his throat.

“Can you come inside please?” He asked and you nodded. Wayne groaned from his spot on the couch. “Will you two just kiss already? Worst romance movie ever. Just wrap it up and don’t be too loud. I have work in the morning” he said and you chuckled nervously, not realizing he was there the whole time whilst Eddie was blushing with embarrassment.

He dragged you away and flipped Wayne off before he closed his bedroom door. He chuckled and went back to watching a movie. You sat on the edge of the bed, Eddie shoved some stuff out of the bed and sat next to you. “Ed’s-” you tried to say but he cut you off.

“I-I was raped” he blurted, tears instantly filling his eyes. He let out a shaky breath and said “that morning…the night before w-we broke up…I was drugged by a girl and she took me back to a hotel or something and she…forced me down and f-forced herself on me and raped me. I promise I-I didn’t want it, I b-begged her to stop, y/n…s-she wouldn’t- sh- she just kept g-going I felt so stupid cause I could barely fight b-back but I swear I didn’t w-want it”

“Hey…hey, shh, it’s okay. I believe you, Eddie. I believe you” you said, pulling him into a hug. He buried his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms tight around you. He needed this. Needed you, your arms around him, his arms around you. He needed this more than anything.

“I believe you…god, as soon as I find that fucking cunt I’m gonna put her ass 6 feet under” you said and he whimpered. He sniffled and said “don’t…please,” “Eddie…she needs to be in jail for what she did to you” you said and he let out a small sob.

You kissed his head and said “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I should’ve been there for you. Y-You shouldn’t have had to deal with that alone…I-I know I couldn’t” “it’s okay…y-you didn’t know, it wasn’t y-your fault” he said and you sighed shakily.

“I didn’t even give you a chance to explain w-what happened” you said and he pulled away. You held his hand, playing with his rings as he said “I probably would have reacted the same. I-It’s ok, y/n. I promise” “I’m so sorry Ed’s” you said, tears spilling down your cheeks, your voice broken.

He smiled sadly, wiping your tears away. He took a deep breath and said “it’s fine…i-it happened and I need to move on from it cause what else am I gonna do” You whimpered, nodding. You sniffled and said “are you going to therapy and stuff?”

“Yea, yea. I promised, didn’t I? She’s good, and I think I’ve actually needed therapy my whole life but didn’t really know. I-I talk a lot about you actually” he admitted, looking down so you didn’t see him blushing. You bit your lip and then said “yea?” “Shut up” he said and sniffled.

It was silent again for a few moments, both of you looking at each other through tear-filled eyes. “C-Can we please get back together?” He asked all of a sudden and you both chuckled. You nodded and he looked so relieved, and so happy.

“I’d kill to be your girlfriend” you said and he blushed softly. You bit your lip and said “can I kiss you?…please?” His eyes widened and he nodded, making you chuckle. You slowly scooted closer, cupping his cheeks. His eyes flickered down to your mouth for a moment, obviously nervous.

“Are you sure?” You asked and he nodded, moving in to press his lips against yours. He put his hands on your waist and thigh, urging you closer. You chuckled and said “woah…hey there,” “hi” he said and you both chuckled.

He leaned in again, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You let him, swirling your tongues together and making out like it’s your last time. You giggled, pressing your foreheads together as you pulled away for air.

He tried to kiss you again and said “Ed’s, I have to breathe” “I just…I miss you” he said, pecking your lips lightly. You shook your head and kissed him again. He eventually started to cry again which got you worried.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” You asked and he chuckled, sniffling. He sighed shakily and said “I’m- I-I’m just really happy. It’s been…hard, without you. B-But you’re back and w-we’re making out in my room, and I just- I love you” You gasped softly, you didn’t think he’d be ready to be as intimate as making out yet, much less saying “I love you”.

“Yea?” You said softly, wiping his tears away. You kissed him gently and said “I love you too” He smiled from ear to ear, blushing like crazy. You giggled and he kissed you a million more times.

Wayne’s heat bursted when he went to check on you two before going to bed and found you sleeping, Eddie curled up into you as you held his much taller and generally larger body as best you could. He was ecstatic to see his boy happy again, and to see the person who makes him happiest back in his life again.

A few weeks later, Eddie reported what happened to the police and thanks to footage from the bar and the outside of the hotel, police identified her and arrested her. She got sentenced to 12 years in prison with no chance of parole, you personally thought she should’ve gotten the death penalty.

It took a lot out of him to see her face to face again, but he stayed strong knowing that he could put an end to what she’s been doing, since 6 other men came forward with their stories involving her when the news of the trial hit the Hawkins Post. You were so proud of him, supporting him as best you could through such a difficult time.

About 2 years later he proposed, and you two made love for the first time since everything that happened. It was gentle, slow, and you really made sure Eddie was okay and made the night about him mostly. He wanted to cry a little, he just felt so lucky to have you and that you gave him a second chance and he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

When he told you he was ready to stop going to therapy you bursted into tears, felt like just yesterday you’d gotten that call from Wayne, the phone call that shattered your heart. And yet here you were 5 years later, on the couch in your small yet perfect little house as your husband of three years, who was as healthy as can be mentally and physically, felt at your baby bump for kicks. Felt like a dream to even be here with him.

“I’m so proud of you Ed’s…I love you so much” you said, running your hands through his hair as his read rested on your bump. He smiled softly, you got like this every once in a while, just thinking about things and how much you appreciate knowing he was okay and he was happy. “Thank you, babe. I’m proud of you two, I know growing this crazy little guy isn’t easy. I love you more” he said and kissed your bump, looking up at you. You rolled your eyes and said “not possible, bub”

Taglist: @readsalot73

As of now I’m writing for

Eddie Munson

Joseph Quinn

Jamie Bower

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Eddissy

Maya Hawke

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and I’ll add you :)

[sequencefairy]

There’s a very fucked up part of my brain that wants to hear your theories about the alleged NYC polycule 😭 but it’s also…too much lmaooooo

Beloved, sweet, wonderful anon, you tempt me too much with your repressed desires to join me in the tiny closet off my office, where I keep my bulletin boards and my red string.

I should note, before we begin, that my contributions to these theories are but contributions, the true architect is a friend, who I will not publicly out, but they know who they are.

With that out of the way, let me paint you a picture, dear sweet anon.

It was late summer, I had watched six hours of TV over the course of three days, because my friend had talked about this TV show to me, and the characters therein, for weeks. I did not expect to like this TV show, I wanted to watch it solely so that I could participate fully in conversation, because I enjoy very much when someone I care about loves something and shares that with me. Despite my intentions to the contrary, I emerged from the six hours of TV wholly changed.

And so began my not-so-slow downward spiral.

(under the cut)

My friend and I had deep and complicated discussions about characterization and the narrative choices and depictions of mental illness and trauma. We shared vulnerabilities, as ways to expand our understanding of the depths that this show plumbs, but does not always reach with solidity. We thirsted. Oh, did we thirst.

I came to the conclusion that I did, indeed, want to climb Oscar Isaac like the compact, solidly built tree that he is. I wanted to bury my fingers in his hair, I wanted to see him smile. I wanted to see the characters he plays beaten, bloody, and miserable. I wanted to see them broken, but I also wanted them to heal, such as they were able, given their unique circumstances.

In short, I became obsessed.

My life has spun wildly out of control, I am sitting on roughly 50k of Moon Knight fanfic, currently unfinished, but being worked on feverishly. You are not here for that though, so let us move on.

We initially began our conversations regarding the NYC polycule on a fair evening in September, when my friend arrived in my dms to alert me to an item of interest. It was a photo, from September 9th, posted on Elvira's Instagram account, and in it, was Oscar, one of his children, and a man, tagged as Tim Nolan.

Further research revealed, of course, that Tim Nolan is none other than the long-time hair stylist for Oscar. We reviewed Tim's Instagram page, thrilled by the discovery that Tim seems to accompany Oscar on many filming trips, including during the filming for Moon Knight in Jordan.

Knowing this, and also knowing that the only other person who appears in photos in their house with their children with such familiarity is Pedro Pascal, we began to make certain assumptions about this relationship.

I won't spend too much time on Pedro Pascal, I think we all know that he's involved.

For now, let us continue along with Tim.

Oscar has been filming In The Hand of Dante in Venice, of late, and so we have been thrilled to see BTS pictures of him, on set, and etc. We have also been thrilled, most recently, by Tim's presence. Tim recently celebrated his 41st birthday in Rome, and the following weekend, was with Oscar being touristy.

Some things to note:

Elvira's comment under Tim's birthday photo, which was taken in Rome. This is not unusual in and of itself, she is very free with her affection for the people in her life, and her comment is correct, he is looking extremely good.

Tim touring around Rome with Oscar, on the weekend after his birthday, clearly not at work, just there to have fun.

The next photo is the one that sealed the deal for me. You have probably seen this one, because I reblogged it onto my blog, but here it is again, for posterity.

We know, from various interviews, and behind the scenes footage, and the way that Oscar is in them, that he is affectionate with his male friends, we know that he is happy to be close to them physically, but there's ... something about this picture. There's a familiarity, a casual intimacy, a closeness that speaks to other kinds of closeness.

All this to say that I believe that Tim Nolan is and has been in the polycule, just like Pedro Pascal is and has been. Perhaps not at the same time, perhaps there are others who move in and out, but the anchor is that Oscar and Elvira have a marriage with room for others, and I wouldn't be surprised, at all, if someday, someone made a mistake, and posted something we shouldn't be seeing, on a public account.

Alternatively, I am going to move to NYC with the intention of becoming another member of this small, loving group of people.

I'm sure my partner will understand.

[bichitosdecolores]

i just finished totk and a link between wolds and i have thougths.

under the cut. (ill put a little spoiler warning when nessesary)

this ran out of my control so beware a really long post down there

a link between wolds first

ok okokokok. so. this is the greatest game of all time. the concept of link turning unidimensional its the most unique and cool ive seen in a zelda game. the puzzles are so cool and exploring the world(s) its so much fun.

also skyward swords its usually said to be the one that broke the zelda formula but albw also did. you can solve the dungeons in any order you want and get the items for a weird little creature (aka my new favorite character) with rupees at any time in the game.

i also loved the story. spoilers start here

This was my seventh zelda game and its definitely not my favorite story wise. BUT. the concept of it its so interesting. the twisted hyrule aka lourde its great and also hilda aka evil zelda its so interesting as well as ravio aka the weird link its the greatest reveal ive seen in a zelda game. and the twist of hilda being behind all the evil plan also surprised me.

another thing i found really interesting its the fact that the triforce its completed by the end of the game and Link and Zelda get to make a wish. because this is a concept that its been established in a lot of the games ive played but ive never actually seen it happening (i suppose its because of the downfall timeline or whatever).

spoilers end here

ill say the only thing i didnt love about the game is its difficulty. ive only played another 2d zelda game (links awakening) but in comparison this one its too easy. i died a total of 2 times, one of them in the final boss (which is a really cool fight btw). so yeah, kinda easy but not really a complaint.

totk time

man. what do i say about this game.

i didnt love botw and i usually dont like 3d games. but i guess i cannot longer say that because i love totk. its so fun and big (how does it run in the swich).

also playing totk made me appreciate botw more. its so cool how even without the main story both games tell a different story and how besides link being almost and avatar he gets to have so much story, growth and personality. In botw link is almost always alone, literally only accompanied by the ghost of his past. while in totk a lot of npc recognize him, help him and just are there with him. also hyrule tell its own story; in botw its almost a post apocalyptic (ex) kingdom. npcs are always in tiny towns, and the few that leave are scared and in danger. and everything its destroyed, gannon its trapped in the castle and theres no hope for the kingdom. but the in totk they are rebuilding!. i have never been this emotional about a bunch of npcs as i am with totk/botw once. they go out to explore and treasure hunt!. there is a school!, a newspaper!. they know zelda and link and hyrules story!. they let link sleep and gives him weapons and food whenever for free!.  im not crying i promise (lie).

and the amount of storytelling that theres is the world alone its insane. i get sad everytime i catch some poes because they are the souls of the fallen hyrule warriors and people from before botw.

now lets talk about link (again) and zelda because they had taken over my mind. link and zelda from botw failed. thats the whole point of the story. they failed the first time, they couldnt save their friends, their kingdom, they didnt defeat ganon, link couldnt defend zelda. so then 100 years latter they have to fix it and save what is left of the kingdom they couldnt protect. botw its so sad. even when they win, the kingdom its still broken and they friends are still gone.

then in totk they do everything they can to help the new hyrule, and when it its in danger again, they fight. in botw, i like to think most of the time link will be running in the wild (dah), camping alone, then go and defeat gannon on his own (the champions help but they are ghost and it was their duty anyways). and then, in totk the very first thing link does after living the sky its go to the fortress (idk its name) where there is people willing to help, then he go and travel finding and helping people on its way. they want link, the hero, to help them fight this monsters, because its gives them hope. he goes to see his friends and they willingly help him. they don't have to risk their lives but zelda asked them to help link and of curse they will. they trust him. he is their friend, and they wont let him be alone.

now a little bit of spoilers

when link goes to the castle, expecting to fight ganandof alone and then the sages show up and deflect the attack i almost cried. then at the end of the game when link loose contact with them and still goes in alone and they show up again.  im...  ;-;

and zelda!. my girl fought so much and she was alone for so much more i want to give her a hug. when she gets turned back to human and she says she was sure she would be gone (a dragon) forever... ;-;

end spoilers

now lets talk about that final fight.

damn, what a good fight. i was there for so long (my fault for getting there with 3 hearts and no food), but we did it and it was amazing.

ok thats it. in conclusion a link between worlds its almost as good as links awakening but im going to say its my new favorite zelda game because it deserves so much more love that it gets. also cook some food before you go to end game, believe me youll need it.

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

I feel like admitting this makes me sound like the most privileged prissy person ever.

Because I’m genuinely so thankful for the support from the government I’ve been able to get because of my mental illnesses. I’m grateful I have the dsp. I’m grateful I haven’t been kicked out by my family. I’m grateful my NDIS application got approved. Genuinely I am.

But I think I’m using them now to further curl into my bubble. There is no need for me to leave the house. There is no need for me to get a job. There is no need to try. I’m not put in a place of need or necessity.

I want to be able to work , but at the same time I lack energy and motivation and the drive to do something more then one day in a row. And I don’t need to. I have a place. I pay my board. I get my money from the government.

And now with the ndis I’ll like get appointments paid for too. At least partly.

It’s keeping me afloat in this room. I get paid to sleep and walk around the house like a zombie feeling sorry for myself and crying and cutting myself and sleeping because I’m not allowed death.

No close connections. No people around me. No progression. Nothing made. And it’s all my own fault. Because my mind is so shattered I don’t have the energy to do anything other then wish I wasn’t me.

I’m not allowed to die. I know that. My dying would be the equivalent of taking someone else’s life with the domino effect it would have.

But I can’t live either. I just can’t bi have few things I hope for in this world and I have no way of obtaining them and it’s entirely my own fault and yet I still feel too emotionally and spiritually dead to do anything because the weight of my broken heart and shattered expectations keep me looked in this room.

It’s no ones fault but mine. I’m unaccomplished because of myself bum ugly because of myself. I’m a let down because of myself. I’m unmotivated because of myself. I’m lonely because of myself.

But I don’t have the strength to fix this. I just don’t anymore. I’m not engaging with therapy properly. I’m taking every chance I can to have an appointment over the phone so I can go right back to sleep and not have to get changed. I’m just boiling in this pot of jealousy and bitterness and regret yet I’m too damn stupid and broken to do anything about it so I just sit in it.

I don’t have anything to wake up for other then the sole purpose of letting a few people know I’m still alive so they won’t be too heavily affected. Sometimes I’ll get a little burst of an idea thinking “it would be cool to do this thing” and then I burn out from it, get no motivation and hate myself so much that I get insecure over the things I do to the point where I can’t look at them without getting angry at myself for not getting better.

But it’s no wonder my mind is declining. I don’t do anything. I stare at my phone or watch shows or read romance or sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep. I’m under stimulated intellectually because over over stimulated emotional. I’m too tired and sore and broken to do anything. I just want to fall asleep and never wake up again so I don’t have to deal with this. But I know I’m not allowed to.

So I just selfishly take these resources and use them to keep myself afloat in this little dark box ive shut myself in. And I hate myself for it.

[recordmcqueen]

s3 kaizo and glx kaizo are two different beings

damn right they are but its still so disappointing knowing what we lost in terms of fanservice but gained in terms of questionable redemption fuel that (surprise, surprise) never got used (,,,yet, anyway, but monsta takin their sweet time with that reconciliation arc in the comic)

from a simp/fanservice standpoint s3 kaizo easily takes the cake: he has this self-assured energy that makes him really feel like he owns whatever room he walks into even if his purpose is to get high off torturing kids, and monsta went and hired the most smooth seductive voice artist possible just to amp up his desirability by 1000%, and the animation just gave him these really over the top dramatic movements that could bring any fangirl to her knees. galaxy kaizo just. isnt it. ok :"3

from a lore standpoint ill say theyre both about equal but painfully inconsistent which is where the s3 kaizo =/= glx kaizo really hits home because s3 has a very 'space rebel does what he wants' kind of mindset which is very intriguing and has a lot of room to explore his backstory and why hes Like That but then its all retconned in galaxy where glx kaizo is part of tapops and literally working under the orders of someone else which is just so ooc? lahap is never mentioned again and instead we get hints of history with manramen who is ALSO never mentioned again except for trivia and cameo purposes.

backstory comic is a mixed bag because you can reasonably connect younger!kaizo's behaviour with either of his 'future' iterations BUT NOT BOTH like ok fine he lost his parents he trained under maskmana and then PRESUMABLY defected and decided to go solo that could make sense yk like hes been disillusioned by the system and takes out his unprocessed trauma on fang and projects his control issues onto him ILL BUY THAT OR he really did train under maskmana and joined the tapops/tempur-a alliance organization where he works for the higher ups and fang later trains under them too BUT you cant have both it jsut doesnt make sense its like two alternate universes where this orphan with a younger brother becomes a (problematic)hero or a villain

and of course from a kaizo and fang dynamic standpoint which is imo the most relevant given that fang is actually part of the main cast and kaizo ISNT: s3 kaizo is absolutely beyond the point of redemption. the only option is for fang to cut ties with him either subvertly where he distances himself enough for it to not matter, or directly where he snaps and lashes out at his abuser. galaxy kaizo, on the other hand, has the aforementioned redemption fuel where there is a chance for him to patch things up with fang because of implications that both sides still care and have concern for each other deep down. HE HAS A CHANCE but hes taking a painfully long time to use it and honestly im not even sure if i trust monsta to do that job right so i guess we're left at this crossroads where things could go in any direction from here. are they gonna keep being awkward about things till they eventually drift apart? is fang gonna keep letting himself be broken down by kaizos neglect till it affects him in another area of life? is fang finally gonna snap and assert his own rights and needs???? literally who knows </3

sorry this got long but u know me i see 'kaizo' and immediately go off aDFBJAFBJALJAL but anyway yes youre absolutely right and i will die on this hill