#teen sole survivor

[nukaberries]

Companions with a teen sole who’s really angry for seemingly no reason most of the time. They’re super aggressive and rough with things but shit gets done. One day she comes up to them super quite and asks if they can talk,when they do talk they open up about how the had a real bad life before the war and is angers that their abuser took it away from them and say the find out they are still alive. Sole starts to cry and asks them to help take care of it. After said abuser is taken care of they are a really outgoing kid and is genuinely happy (so so so sorry if this is so long)

I just wanna publicly announce that I am obsessed with teen Courier/Sole content, so I'm super excited to write this! Thank you for sending it! Also upon reading this ask, I would 100% die for teen Sole and I know for a fact that most of the companions happily would too <33

//

Companions React to Teen!Sole Getting Their Revenge - TW: Abuse

(Includes: Cait, Codsworth, Curie, Danse, Deacon, Hancock, MacCready, Nick, Piper and Preston)

Cait

She'll understand Sole's anger better than anyone, having lived through that same kind of anger herself. Up until now, she'd been fairly distant with Sole, and Sole had been the same with her, but upon hearing their story, all Cait wants to do is help them. She remembers being that angry as a teen herself, maybe her and Sole weren't so different after all. At first, she will point out to Sole that sometimes revenge doesn't make a person feel better, which she knows from experience, but if they're really serious about it, she won't try and talk them out of it. Of course, Cait will go with them to deal with their abuser, and she'll make sure that Sole gets the killing blow on them. After everything they'd told her, it seems only fitting that they put an end to this. Cait worries that Sole will be racked with the same guilt she was after killing her parents, unsure of how to help them navigate a pain she still hadn't figured out how to manage herself Much to her surprise, Sole bounces back better than ever, seeming like a genuinely happy kid now they were free of their abuser. It strangely felt like a weight off of Cait's own shoulders to see Sole acting like a teenager for once in their life. Maybe she hadn't gotten that with herself, but hey, somehow helping Sole had made her feel a little bit better about her own shitty life.

Codsworth

Sole's loyal robot butler already knows of their pain all too well, but actually seeing them acknowledge it for the first time and start breaking down makes it all the worse. It's hard for him to be faced with the one problem he was never able to solve, perhaps that's why he reluctantly agrees to help Sole take care of their abuser - even though he knows it's not the best way to deal with the problem, but he'd do anything to help Sole feel better. He's prepared to help Sole deal with whatever emotions they may go through after killing their abuser. He mostly expects Sole to be filled with anger and bitterness afterwards, and is even more surprised when they seem to be doing better. He's overjoyed by this, seeing Sole smile again and hearing them laugh for the first time in years. Codsworth is proud of Sole too, for suffering through something so terrible for so many years and now being able to hold their head up high and put it behind them. While taking a life is never something Codsworth necessarily wants to do, just knowing Sole is doing better is enough for him to accept that it had to be done on this occasion.

Curie

She doesn't understand when Sole first opens up to her. How could anyone ever do something like that to another person, let alone someone so young. Curie's heart breaks for Sole, wanting nothing more than to comfort them and tell them it will all be okay, but how can she promise that when the person who did this is still alive? Curie doesn't agree with murder, even in a world like this, but it's hard for her to reject Sole asking her for help. Eventually, she agrees to go with him, if only to make sure they're okay, but she refuses to be involved in the bloodshed she knows will take place. Once it's over, Curie isn't exactly sure what she can do to help Sole, clueless as to what feelings they may be going through. She can barely understand her own most of the time, something like this seems like far too much for her to be able to handle. She tries nonetheless though, and is more than relieved when Sole actually seems to be doing well - better, even. Watching her friend go from this angry, intimidating person to a genuinely happy and outgoing young person makes the entire ordeal feel almost worth it, but she still worries about them putting on a brave face. If Sole ever brings it up again, Curie will suggest seeing a therapist may help them to work through the pain of their past, and - knowing how hard it is to come across doctors in the wastelands, let alone therapists - will offer to lend an ear if they ever just want to vent about it at any time.

Danse

He's heard stories like this before from his fellow soldiers, but coming from a child? Danse almost tears up at the thought of it, even more so when Sole starts to cry themselves, but he remains composed, much to his own relief. It explains a lot about their personality and Danse regrets all the times he chalked it down to insubordination or just simple teenage rebellion. He feels a sort of responsibility to Sole, being their commanding officer, and finds himself feeling almost protective over them. He does struggle to comfort them, but he still tries his best, reassuring them that their abuser can't hurt them anymore, until Sole explains to him that the person who did this to them is still alive and could still come back to hurt them all over again. They don't need to ask him for help dealing with their abuser twice, he'd just be ridding the Commonwealth of scum anyway, at least this way, he'd be helping someone he personally knew and cared for. The side of Sole that comes out after dealing with their abuser is refreshing to see, it's not often you see a teenager in a world like this get to act their age. In fact, Danse begins to notice himself being ever so slightly more upbeat, smiling a little at Sole's corny jokes that he would've frowned at not so long ago. Perhaps this new side of Sole is beginning to bring out a new side of him too, but if nothing else, all Danse knows now is that he'll protect Sole, no matter what it takes.

Deacon

Deacon knows revenge, as much as he'd like to pretend losing Barbara didn't take him down that same dark path he fears Sole may be starting to look towards now. It's strange to see someone so previously stoic open up to him, of all people, and he isn't quite sure what to do with the information he's being given, expect feel an overwhelming amount of sympathy for his friend. He isn't the best at dealing with his own emotions, let alone other people's, and when Sole begins to cry, all he can do is wrap an arm around them, knowing that nothing he could say would make the situation better. Sole doesn't even need to ask him to help them deal with their abuser, he already knows where they're going with the conversation when they explain they're still alive and they know where they are. He does what he can to talk Sole out of it, but they're completely dead set on their decision and Deacon knows it'd be hypocritical of him to blame them after what he'd done to the UP Deathclaws. He has a terrible feeling about it, but he can't let Sole go through any of that alone, he could never forgive himself if something was to happen to them because he didn't go with them. The whole experience takes him back to his own revenge mission and after the ordeal is over, Deacon finds himself telling Sole his own story, explaining why he was so anxious about helping them kill their abuser. Sole goes back to Sanctuary and dismisses Deacon, stating that they need some time alone to process everything. He doesn't see Sole for about a week, and when they finally return to Railroad HQ, they're completely unrecognisable from the angry teenager he'd seen leave that vault. Naturally, Deacon's still concerned about how they might be coping, but he won't press the matter if he doesn't think Sole wants to talk about it, instead he'll just be grateful that they seem happy, and he'll do anything to keep them happy for as long as he can.

Hancock

He already wants to kill Sole's abuser from the second they start telling him about their past. What kind of monster can make an innocent kid's life so miserable like that? He's surprisingly good at comforting Sole, despite his own anger towards the person that made them feel this way, and he'll just hold them while they cry, if they're comfortable with it. He's probably the least likely out of all the companions to hesitate when being asked to help take care of Sole's abuser. Sure, he knows it won't do them any good in the long run, but who's he to tell them no? The least he can do is go with them and make sure it goes down smoothly, or at least as smoothly as something like this can. He doesn't really know what to expect after Sole's abuser is dead, offering them time to themselves if they need it, but Sole bounces back from the incident so quickly it's almost impressive. This new side of Sole is one that Hancock wishes he could've seen sooner, just being around Sole now is enough to put him in a happy mood for the rest of the day. It's just nice to see them live a good life after everything they went through before the war. He ends up being more protective over Sole afterwards than he was of them initially, not wanting anyone to give them a reason to not be happy again.

MacCready

As a parent himself, MacCready wants to shield Sole from whatever they've endured in the past, even if he doesn't know how to show it. He still remembers what it was like to be a teenager himself in a world like this and in general, and that combined with everything Sole went through? He wasn't sure just anyone could've made it through that. Of course, he knows revenge won't make much of a difference, but knowing how important it is to Sole, he can't say no. Besides, they still had that deal already - Sole points, MacCready shoots. Afterwards, he isn't sure if he's more shocked that Sole actually seems to be doing better than ever or that they've actually found a way to be happy in a world like this. He figures they're stronger than he ever could be, and finds himself actually starting to admire them. He knows he can't stop Sole from ever feeling that kind of pain again, or ever experiencing something as terrible as they did, but at least he's managed to prevent it from happening again this one time. MacCready realises how impossible it is, but he still insists on protecting Sole from everything he can, they're his family now.

Nick Valentine

Although violence is never Nick's go to answer, he can't exactly blame Sole for feeling like it's the only choice they have, especially after everything they'd gone through in the past. Nick had always worried that Sole's aggressiveness may have been linked to something they'd gone through - that was the case with so many people in this world nowadays - but he'd never wanted to pry and had opted to wait until Sole felt comfortable telling him. He did appreciate them feeling as though they could confide in Nick, and normally he would've never agreed to some revenge mission once Sole asked if he'd help them take care of their abuser, but he figured he could make an exception for someone he cared for. Unlike the other companions, Nick will be upfront and ask Sole if they're putting on a brave face when they start to seem happy, worrying that they may be bottling up all their emotions towards killing their abuser. He's relieved, though, seeing Sole finally be able to happy, especially after going through so much at such a young age. Even though he can't change what happened to them, he can try and make their life now as good as it possibly can be.

Piper

Piper feels awful, wanting to help Sole feel better, but knowing there's nothing she can do to ease the pain they've suffered through. When Sole admits they know their abuser is still alive and wants to take care of them once and for all, with Piper's help, their companion is understandably reluctant. She can help Sole, but will it really make them feel any better in the long run? She isn't so sure. Still, after a lot of convincing and asking, Piper agrees to go with Sole to deal with their abuser, even if just to be there for moral support. Afterwards, Piper will initially be relieved that Sole seems to be happier. She'd always wondered how some so young could be so full of anger, it was actually nice to see a happier and more outgoing side to them. Of course, she will be sure to offer Sole support if they ever need to talk, rather than letting their troubles eat away at them. Sure, she's better at talking sometimes than she is at listening, but anything for a friend, especially one as good as Sole.

Preston

He knew there were bad people in the world - he'd seen enough of them in Quincy alone - but how could someone be this cruel to someone so young? Sole deserved better and Preston wished he could take away the pain they'd experienced. He has no problem agreeing to go with Sole to take care of their abuser, after all, this person is just as bad as a raider or a gunner, if not worse, he'd just be doing the Commonwealth a favour and protecting Sole. Besides, Sole has helped him and the other Quincy survivors so much in the time he's known them, it's only right that he helps them, they've never asked him for anything until now. Since Preston treats killing Sole's abuser like taking out another raider camp or super mutant outpost, he doesn't think Sole will feel much guilt about it - why should they? He's just glad to see Sole find happiness again, they deserve the peace, even though it's hard to come across in a world like this. It almost inspires Preston, maybe there's hope that he can find happiness again one day too.

#fallout 4 #fallout #fallout headcanons #fallout imagines #fallout reactions #fallout companions #cait fallout #curie fallout #codsworth fallout #paladin danse #deacon fallout #maccready #hancock fallout #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #teen sole survivor

[somethingaboutmint]

(Deacon voice) bad news guys the supposed milf i recruited into the railroad is infact a teen mom

#fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #fo4 deacon #sole survivor #fallout oc #art'd #she is technically a teen mom. holding back my demons from rambling about živa #deacon feels bad because hes like #damn um you've got a lot of shit to handle at age 20 haha lol. um. anyways

[harlstiel]

SPOILERS FOR

Supernatural Finale, Teen Wolf Movie, Plague Tale Requiem ending, Fallout 4 ending, The Maze Runner - The Death Cure

Crying about the dead gay angel and the dead traumatized closeted brooding werewolf man and the traumatized white-haired cyborg space dad of a bunch of traumatized kids and the teenage girl who killed millions trying to protect her brother but had to kill him anyway and the parent who faced the end of the world trekking across a wasteland to reach their son ultimately for him to be the enemy and the boy who had to be killed by his lover who was immune to the virus that was plaguing his blood and the...

#castiel #supernatural #derek hale #teen wolf #takashi shirogane #voltron #amicia de rune #a plague tale requiem #fallout 4 #sole survivor #the maze runner #newt maze runner #thomas maze runner #newtmas #someone put me out of my misery

[aith-art]

A Courier and A Survivor meet

Word Count - 1.8k

 The bag was one of the few items I retained when I made my way back east. Covered in patches from the groups I had befriended, helped and trusted. And some from groups I then abandoned, betrayed, and destroyed to fulfil a contract that I never wanted and couldn't escape. It acted as a reminder of my biggest failure. And an excellent way to transport random junk and mail across the wastes. The only other reminders that still existed were the scars. Two of which I could never avoid seeing in the mirror. I left all that behind me. I made my way to the Commonwealth. I actively ran from my past, even if a shadow of steel seemed to follow me.  

Word Count - 1.8k

This Job was no different to my usual. Inform the mother that her husband and child were fine, likely get yelled at, then do a quick shop for whatever clothes and such were brought to Diamond City that could be put to better use in Goodneighbor. Everyone knew that’s where I took what I bought, but never cared. If they did, they never voiced it to me. I shoved the note into my messenger bag with my general supplies.

As I made a move for the gate, wanting to utilise the night to make it past the Commons, a small figure stood before me. 

“Hi?” I tried to hide the caution and concern in my voice, to no avail. 

The person before me was young. Maybe 14 pushing 15. Not someone I expected to see alone in the streets of Goodneighbor. I suppose ‘alone’ wasn’t an accurate description, the girl had a dog with her. A big, healthy one. She and her dog didn’t seem hostile, though in Goodneighbor appearances were something to be questioned. Her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, much like I wore when I was her age, for a second I questioned if she was a hallucination of myself. It wasn’t out of the question after my injury. But others around had seen her, rolled their eyes, and returned to their lives. She gave a small wave and a sideways look. I was suddenly a puzzle to her. Had I seen her before? 

“Hi.” She replied after a moment, “You were on the Prydwen weren’t you?” 

I paused. No one was supposed to know about that little interaction I had with those steel morons, let alone a kid. “No, Why do you ask?” 

“You were. You looked so different from everyone else aboard. I want to know why you were there. Are you a secret Brotherhood spy planning to take down Goodneighbor for Elder Maxson?” 

That was overly specific, I thought. Though she seemed suddenly more defensive. A subtle hand reaching down the back of her belt, likely for a knife or switchblade. Her feet shifted, entering a somewhat impressive stance. Her mention of Maxson by name informed me that she was involved with the Brotherhood, in some capacity at least. 

“If you’re with the Brotherhood, why do you care?” 

She narrowed her eyes. “I…” 

I had her there. She was smart enough to know that Goodneighbor would become a target for the Brotherhood, eventually, due to being a safe haven for ghouls and outcasts and the Brotherhood’s adamant denial of ghoul’s personhood. But Goodneighbor wasn’t the target of Maxson’s war. Hell, I doubt it made it as even a bullet point on a Brotherhood to-do list. 

“My friends live here.” It was barely above a whisper. 

I couldn’t leave her question unanswered. “I’m not here to destroy Goodneighbor for the Brotherhood of Steel. I’m completing some freelance work. No one in the Brotherhood knows I’m here.” Not a complete lie. It just happened to omit the fact that I was running from the Brotherhood and that I had no plans of going back if I could help it. 

“Oh. But why were you on the Prydwen?” A curious soul. Well-meaning, clearly. 

“Look, kid-” 

Before I could bull shit a response the door to the state house opened behind me and Nick stepped out, mid-conversation with Fahrenheit. I jumped, unaware he'd been inside. He looked towards the bench across from Daisy’s Discounts before his eyes scanned past me and landed on the kid. His shoulders seemed to relax slightly as he saw she was okay. 

“Dana, would you let the courier do their job?” He turned to me briefly. “Headed Diamond City ways?” 

“Yeah, believe I might be saving you a job on this one.” 

“You always seem to.” 

“See you around Nick.” 

I wanted to question why he was running around with a teenager, what they were doing in Goodneighbor. Hell, why did the kid know I was on the Prydwen? But I had to get this job completed, for my reputation if nothing else. We exchanged a parting nod as I headed out of the gate and into the super mutant filled streets. 

As I crossed Boston Commons, taking a quicker route despite the increased danger, I registered a second set of footsteps some 20 paces behind me. They were trying to be quiet, though they weren't doing a great job. I continued ahead. If someone was tailing me, they would make themselves known before long. 

By the time I entered Diamond City the sun had risen and I was certain I knew who had followed me, and how long they’d done it for. I kept this knowledge to myself. After completing the delivery, and being truly chewed out by the distraught mother in the absence of her husband to scream at, I bought a box of sugar bombs, some fabric for the repairs my jeans were in desperate need of, and began to make my way back to Goodneighbor. Enjoying the warm day and relative safety of the route as I made my way via the river. Following it up towards Bunker Hill before dipping into the alley by HalluciGen Inc and following the road through, towards the large skyscraper of Mass Fusion. 

The midday sun began to be clouded by the coming storm as I stepped through the gate back into Goodneighbor, sighing with the familiar smell of cigarette smoke tinged with blood, I saw Nick and Hancock both glaring at someone behind me. 

“Dana.” Nick never sounded angry, but if his fear and disappointment could have been concentrated into one word it was that. Hancock retained his facade of calm, remaining by the door to the statehouse, though it was clear from the state of his coat he’d help Nick try to find the kid. I sidestepped out of the way, slipping beside Hancock to observe Nick and Dana have a ‘civilised’ conversation. 

Hancock whispered to me, “Did you know she’d followed you?” 

I whispered back, “It became apparent as I got close to Diamond City. She’s got skill, I’ll give her that.” 

“The skill of giving two men panic attacks.” 

“I would have told you if I had a way.” 

“Does she know you knew?” 

“Fucked if I know.” 

Both me and Hancock were choosing our words carefully. Neither wanted to admit that we cared about the kid, both trying to uphold an image that we knew was fading. 

“Hey Jules,” Hancock started, trying to work out how to approach whatever answer he was proposing to the problem of Dana. “You’ve clearly caught her attention, and I’m not going to pry into why, but - if she’s willing - would you be up for travelling with her?” 

“You asking me to play bodyguard?” 

“I’ll pay you. Got some caps set aside.” 

“Keep your caps. If she wants me to travel with her, I’ll do it.” After having her follow me to Diamond City, and her knowledge of a link between myself and the Brotherhood I couldn’t leave her to the wastes. 

“Refusing caps, huh. You see something in this kid, don’t you?” 

I didn’t respond. We both knew the answer. I looked over at Dana and Nick, who was kneeling before her and making sure she was okay. Her dog, who had been left behind with Nick in her moment of curious rebellion, cuddled up between the two of them. The conversation ended, Nick stood back up and Dana trudged over to myself and Hancock. 

“Mr Hancock, I’m sorry for worrying you.” She played up a sweet little girl act, the same technique I used to use in DC on whoever it was I wronged. 

“It’s okay, kid.” He gave a glare to Nick, for spragging about his worry. 

Dana turned to me, “And miss, I’m sorry for following you and potentially putting your life in danger.” 

“Thank you for the apology. An’ you don’t have to worry about putting me in danger. I think Nick and Hancock were more concerned that you might’ve put yourself in danger.” 

“I know mam.” 

I looked at her as she ran back the short distance to Nick, who had situated himself on the bench across from Daisy’s. She had so much more of me in her than I would ever admit. Her little bounce as she regaled to Nick that she had apologised. The way she laced her fingers together when she had apologised, a nervous habit. How she looked over her shoulder, glancing at me as she questioned whether or not I’d let her bother me with more questions. I gave her a smile, a subtle invitation to talk. 

Hancock nudged my shoulder, “Keep her safe. An’ come talk to me when you’re free, I’m always in need of a spare pair of hands in town.” 

I gave him a nod, too consumed in my thoughts to say anything but letting him know I heard and acknowledged his request. He pushed himself off the wall and made his way back into the statehouse. 

After Hancock left, my little shadow appeared before me. She beamed up at me, Nick must have mentioned I’d been asked to travel with them. 

She didn’t hesitate to ask, “Are you gonna be running with us?”

Pushing myself off the wall and dropping to my knees out of some respect for the kid I replied, “If you want me to.” 

“Yes!” She wasn’t trying to disguise her joy. But she paused for a second as it dawned on her, “My name’ Dana by the way, what’s your name?” 

“Jules.” 

“That’s a pretty name.” 

“Yeah, so’s Dana.” Her eyes widened as she ran back over to Nick, reporting what he had clearly overheard. I stood up and followed her over. For a brief moment, I registered that I didn’t receive my pay for the delivery I’d made. I’ll get it out of him later. I thought, chancing a glance up at the window where Hancock now oversaw the conversation. We shared one last nod before I completely turned my attention to Dana and the next steps of her journey.

#jules courier 6 #Dana the Sole Survivor #This was so long but also so important to their story #These two have consumed my thoughts and my love for found families #they are both my favourites #I promise they become a great parent child relationship #I have more from just before this interaction that involves Nick and Hancock #I just love my teen sole surivour

[saddeniq]

me on my way to make most of my fallout ocs teenagers

#i dont understand adults and teens are just so much more interesting to write about #i think my only grown adult oc is my sole survivor #and then everyone else is 14-19 bc yes :) #safs talks

[homunculus-argument]

A revenge arc story that starts with a flashback of the Teen Protagonist's village being destroyed, and a Black Robes And Skull Motif villain seeing the sobbing protagonist - who may be the sole survivor - and saying some shit like "your people died because they were weak. Stop crying, find me and avenge them yourself if you think you're any better" with a cruel sneer before walking off, leaving the protagonist into the ruins.

So now the protagonist has spent ten years learning to fight, and starts tracking down the villain who destroyed their village. Adventures are had, friends and allies are made, and finally the protagonist and their ragtag team of friends and heroes find the villain who lead the band who destroyed their village.

And it's just some guy. Literally just some completely ordinary, kind of shabby guy somewhere in his late 20s or early 30s, who has no idea who the protagonist is. And not like in some evil gloating "I don't even know who you are" way, but genuinely no recollection, before the protagonist reminds them of the exact time and date, and the location of the destroyed little village.

And this guy just goes "oh that village", and cringes at being reminded by what he apparently said, going "oh man I was a hell of an edgelord back then. Hey sorry about the war crimes, I really wasn't much older than you are now back then, I had no idea what I was getting into. I've been running this orphanage to help out the victims of my former faction, you can join me to help out if you want."

And the protagonist looks around at the confused little orphans now circled around the Former Villain's feet, realises that in the eyes of these kids, a teenager swinging around a weapon is a Scary Adult, and that there's no point in getting them orphaned twice. There isn't going to be a satisfying, cathartic revenge.

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hey, love! I’m new to this, so sorry if I’m doing this wrong :) You can call me Moon btw. I love your writing and appreciate how it’s all platonic!!!! I was wondering if you could do Aizawa (and maybe Mic or whoever else you want) with an introverted teen he took in asking to braid his hair, and getting lost in thought and humming while listening to him complain about work or something. It’s fine if not <3333

Hi Moon! It's nice to meet you! I am so so so so sorry for replying so late. I was feeling burnt out and just really needed a break. I hope you understand. I was also hoping I could use this prompt for other characters so if you’ll give me permission I’d love to use your idea again for different characters. :)

Aizawa never liked coming home. He never liked the blinding white light bulbs that came with his crappy apartment and was too lazy to change, he didn’t like the smell of coffee and dirty dishes he felt were too overwhelming to do. He used to only have the energy to eat some soggy cereal and pass out on the couch before getting up to do hero work in the morning, or 2 am, or come home at 11 pm but that didn’t matter, it was just the same thing every day. 

But now, he had you. Being the sole survivor of a strange house fire at 1 am and having no memories whatsoever and having been considered shy and introverted. You were one with no guidance, no past and a future unknown and uncharted. And while you had been proven to have the intelligence of a child your age and then some, you had little to no knowledge of much else. You were a young girl in need of love and protection. (at least to him.)

So he took you in, begrudgingly, at first, but he soon felt a sense of comfort in your presence, a sense of happiness even. 

He even decided to pick up a parenting book or two, and found some mommy bloggers as well. I mean, what else is a man to do except try and be a good parent to a child he loves ever so dearly?

He learned he needed to make food for said child, instead of living off take out and what he can find at the convenience store next door. Children also need to live in a clean environment, so that is what he did, he tries to at least do the dishes and laundry regularly now. 

Guess he needs to listen too, because he often finds himself listening to your rants about school and homework, as well as the rants of your hobbies, about what you did today, how you felt today, so many things. And I guess, just a hunch, that his life was finally falling into rhythm. 

But it remained mostly the same.

Tonight was no different.

It goes;come home, take off shoes and coat, check if you’re awake, make some ramen (and some for you too if you are awake.) complain, go to bed. 

So here he is, tiptoeing to your room at the end of the hallway, careful not to wake you if you are asleep. Only to find that you are, in fact, awake. The warm light bulbs he installed in your room peaked through the crack in the door you had left for the cat to come at the ungodly hours of the night. You could also see the various trinkets and hobbies you had picked up over your 4 years of living together and made your room the heart of the whole apartment. Lively and bright. And there you were, hunched over your desk watching a video on your computer, fiddling with a piece of origami paper, attentively following the instructions from the video to try and make an origami frog. 

It took about 10 seconds to recognize he was there, smiling, happily at your antics. You smiled a little, but that smile made it all worth it to do what he does, be a hero and a single parent both at the same time, a smile that could light up even the darkest of nights. You did a little run too, you ran a little run to get to him but still tried to be light on your feet so as not to bother the neighbors.

Always so considerate. He thought. 

It was a regular routine really, for him to get you from your room and make some ramen, but as you two sat on the couch, TV was buzzing with the latest new stories (who needs a dining room table? Just use the couch! Why waste the space? It is the perfect space for your plants so for your plants it will be!) Something different happened today. 

For in the smallest little voice, he heard you squeak out,

 “c-can I braid your hair.” a slight tremble in your voice 

Now that was a surprise,

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m sorry, I meant it as in can I do your hair, I’m sorry I shou-”

“Sure.” he replied nonchalantly.

“What?” 

“You can braid my hair. Go on, the hair ties are in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” there was a pause. “Okay.”

Here he was, out in the dead of night at 12 in the morning, a young girl braiding his black locks of hair while he complained about PresentMic’s antics while eating convenience store ramen. For once in his life he felt at peace, as the world slowed down he felt himself slowly understanding. Understanding that it may be over, the repetitive nights of the never ending loneliness. It’s over.

And it starts here, with you, with tonight where you braid his hair and listen to him rant about the outside world. But here it’s safe, in this crappy apartment with the cool light bulbs and the distant stench of dirty dishes and the coffee he had this morning. It's okay. Life is okay.

Maybe he wasn’t doomed to have the same routine every day over and over again.

#shouta aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #shota aizawa #aizawa #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #platonic yandere aizawa x reader #platonic aizawa #mha #bnha #fluffy cookie things #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha headcannons #bnha x child reader #platonic yandere #child reader #bnha dads #eraserhead

[hermesmyplatonicbeloved]

"Perc@beth is the gold standard and no-one is doing it like them."

EDIT: Perc@beth fans, this post is not for you. Keep scrolling. DNI.

Umm yea. I agree.

I haven't seen any other couple that's equally as unhealthy and abusive get so much praise and be treated as such a high goal and aspiration.

People will be saying this like the following events never happen:

Percy scared Annabeth to tears. She was crying and begging him. And they never :) talk :) about :) it. :)

Percy has been suicidal since he met Annabeth. In BoO he attempted suicide and Annabeth said nothing, noticed nothing and did nothing to help/support her boyfriend. In fact, she ignores him and only talks to Piper. (I'm not saying she shouldn't talk to Piper - she can that's fine - but she needs to talk to Percy. And she doesnt).

Annabeth judo flips Percy and that's treated as girl power and a normal thing. When Percy is an abuse survivor who once lived in fear of his step father beating him into unconsciousness.

Annabeth likes to keep Percy on his toes (her words) which makes Percy constantly anxious and nervous: he can never tell what she's thinking and he's scared of fucking up to the point that he feels like roadkill (his words).

The one time Percy brings up his abusive step father (possibly seeking comfort and support while they were in literal hell) Annabeth laughs it off as a joke. He never correct her assumption and shares the truth.

Annabeth is unapologetically rude to Percy's family (Sally and Paul being the exception). She outright says eww and gross while Tyson compliments her, and she's incredibly rude to him. She spends the entire first book constantly telling Percy that Poseidon is dirty and rotten and makes Percy second guess the gifts Poseidon gives him (there's always a price for gifts). And this is while Percy's mom Sally is dead and Percy is seeking his father for answers/help/support.

Percy constantly thinks Annabeth is going to hurt him when she looks mad/emotional (ttc - she looked like she wanted to judo flip me, botl - I thought she was going to punch me) and you'd think that's just Percy's unresolved trauma from his step father (who, remember, threatened to beat Percy into unconsciousness) but then she actually judo flips Percy in MoA, proving that it's not just irrational fear. It's the cycle of abusive relationships continuing.

Percy has shit self esteem, and doesn't think he's worthy of being Annabeth's boyfriend. The way cotg is written (from the bits I read) is that Percy comes off as the problem boyfriend that needs his girlfriend to constantly help/fix him. She does nothing (from what I've seen) to help Percy or direct Percy to someone who can help with this.

Annabeth pushes Percy to choose between her and his family (Sally, Paul and Estelle). Percy genuinely wants to stay back in Manhatten to be an older brother to Estelle but no. He already thinks he's unworthy, so he'd be horrible to say no to her, right? Not to mention:

Percy has no interest in going to New Rome or university. First page of cotg he's asking Poseidon to excuse him from school forever. He hasn't looked up any programs or fields he wants to go into. He doesn't have any idea of what career or field he wants to work in. His sole reason for going: Annabeth. That's unhealthy. It's not good to base all your happiness on one person; it's too much pressure on both of you. Plus, codependency is not romantic. It's unhealthy.

Not to mention the strongest point of all, and imo the only one that really matters:

Perc@beth is being treated as the gold standard for relationships, and that's teaching tens/hundreds of thousands of impressionable young teens that this behavior is not only acceptable but something to be aspired. They don't understand that it's unhealthy or abusive. They'll aim to be like this and 1. may start treating their partner like this or 2. May allow their partner to treat them like this. This toxic behavior has real world consequences. It's not just a book. It's influencing people irl.

#anti percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #rrverse #nico di angelo #gabe ugliano #sally jackson #tyson #poseidon #abusive relationship #judo flip #trauma #pjo hoo #pjo hoo toa #percy #annabeth #anti percy/annabeth #anti percy jackson/annabeth chase #poll

[bumblesimagines]

Our Flickering Light

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

~~~

"You ever been this far from home?" 

"Ellie."

"What? I'm just asking!" 

There was something humorous in the way Ellie and Joel treated each other. The exasperation that weighed heavy on Joel's face whenever she so much as opened her mouth and the smugness that twinkled in her eyes when she saw Joel roll his eyes or purse his lips in annoyance. (Y/N) couldn't blame him much. The moment Lincoln had disappeared out of view, Ellie had leaned forward and shoved herself between the two seats, firing off question after question. For a girl with the fate of the world resting solely on her shoulders, she sure had a lot of energy and excitement. (Y/N) wondered if he'd been like her back then. Full of curiosity and awe.

"It's fine, Joel." (Y/N) dismissed with a soft chuckle and a wave of his hand. Joel glanced at him, furrowed brows full of uncertainty and even a hint of a warning of what was to come if he gave Ellie the green light to ask questions. (Y/N) smiled at the older man and Joel looked back at the road, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. He gave a small nod and Ellie beamed, once again wedging herself between the seats and making Joel click his tongue in disapproval. 

"So, have you?" Ellie asked, her dark brown eyes wide and full of barely contained curiosity. 

"I wasn't born in Lincoln, Ellie." (Y/N) chuckled at the quiet 'oh' that fell from her lips and her cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment, one finger lifting to sheepishly scratch the side of her head. "My mom and I were originally from Frederick, Maryland. We were able to get to the Baltimore QZ before it began turning people away. It's how we met Frank. We stayed there for a good... Jesus, I don't know, four or five years?" 

"Why'd you leave?" Ellie blinked and cocked her head to the side, loose strands of her hair swaying over her pale skin. (Y/N) noticed Joel glance over Ellie's head, just as curious as the girl he'd previously scolded. (Y/N) exhaled through his nose and gazed back out to the long road ahead.

"It fell. None of us really knew why, but Frank said the day before it happened there'd been rumors about a breach in one of the walls that FEDRA couldn't be bothered to fix. The next day the QZ was in utter chaos. People were either panicking, stealing, getting trampled, or getting shot down by soldiers. Frank and his neighbor, Kelly, got us and we fled the QZ with a few other survivors." (Y/N) explained solemnly, the screams of citizens attempting to find safety still ringing as clear as day in his ears. "We traveled a week by foot trying to get to Boston since THE Philadelphia QZ only lasted two years and they were never able to clear any part of New York City to get one set up. We were a group of ten but by the time we got to Lincoln, it was only Frank, my mom, and me."

"Wait, so, you could've been in Boston with us? And you were born before the outbreak? But you look so young!" Ellie gaped at him and Joel snorted quietly, the muscles on his face straining to keep him from smiling at her words. 

"I'm only twenty-nine, Ellie." (Y/N) laughed and her eyes widened further. "I was nine when the outbreak happened."

(Y/N) watched the teen boys bounce the basketball around in the road, their laughter echoing down the street and mixing in with the distant sound of honking. His mother stood by the dining room table with her phone in hand and pressed against her ear, reciting the address to the pizza place staff member. Her other hand ran circles around the barely there bump and her attention jumped between answering questions and looking at the clock. 

"Can I go outside?" (Y/N) asked into his folded arms, his legs beginning to ache from standing at the window for so long. The basketball slammed into the board and bounced off the rim of the basket. A chorus of groans and laughter followed. "I'll stay in the driveway."

"It's dark out, sweets. Those boys will be heading to bed soon, anyway." Rose said as she set her phone on the dining table and approached him, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder. She smiled warmly down at him. "I'm sure if you ask Jonah tomorrow, he'll teach you how to play, alright?"

"Okay." (Y/N) sighed. "When is Brent-"

There was a sudden, distant explosion outside, close and loud enough to make the windows in the house shake and set off car alarms throughout the neighborhood. The neighborhood boys outside shouted and screamed in surprise, their long game of basketball abruptly forgotten in favor of turning around to watch a firey cloud rise into the air. Rose instinctively brought (Y/N) closer to her and grabbed the curtain to tug it further from the window. 

"Oh, my god," She whispered and took his hand, clutching it tightly as they left the kitchen and opened the front door, stepping out onto their porch. (Y/N) could hear the porch swing still creaking from the force of the explosion and he leaned into the skirt of his mother's dress, peeking out from behind her legs. "Jonah, Tyler, you boys okay?! The rest of you need to get home right now!" 

"Was that the gas station?" Jonah asked, holding his basketball tight to his chest as the rest of his friends scrambled to collect their things and call home. Tyler wasted no time in running across the street to his house and quickly heading inside the small house while his aunt's car blared in the driveway. 

"You boys get to your parents, now!" A new, deeper voice boomed from next door and (Y/N) peered around his mother to look at their next-door neighbor, an intimidating veteran whom Brent enjoyed calling a 'hermit'. (Y/N) hardly ever heard him speak seeing as the man, Steven, spent most of his time out hunting or locked away in his run-down, unkept house. Steven turned to them, his white tank top soaked in sweat, and he hurried down his creaky porch steps to approach them. 

"Steven, what's going on?"

"Rose, sweetheart, get your boy and pack some things, alright? There was a national alert on the radio-" Another explosion, one closer to the city. 

(Y/N)'s body began to tremble and he clung tighter on his mother. Rose spun on her heel and hauled (Y/N) up into her arms, everything in his sight becoming a dark blur of their familiar living room and hallway. She set him down in front of his bedroom door and hurried inside, her swift hands snatching his school backpack from the floor and turning it upside down so everything inside clattered to the floor. She grabbed fistfuls of clothes from shirts, pants, and underwear before stuffing the free pockets of small books and toys. 

"Here, baby, here." Rose returned to him and he stuck his arms through the gaps, feeling the straps weighing heavily down on his shoulders. (Y/N) watched her head down to hers and Brent's shared bedroom and heard her rummage through things as she'd done in his bedroom. Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his pajamas. He faced his bedroom again and approached his toy box, lifting the top open and sorting through his toys until he found Mr. Flops, his old favorite stuffed bunny that he'd hidden away after hearing some boys make fun of Gracie in class for still having a teddy bear. 

"(Y/N), sweets, come on." His mother stood in the doorway with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She extended her hand out toward him and smiled encouragingly, wiggling her fingers until he took her hand again. Rose moved down the hallway again and reached the front door before stopping to scribble something down on the notepad she kept by the key holder. (Y/N) tightened his grip on her palm when they stepped outside and spotted Steven hauling some things into the back of his truck. 

"Hurry, Rose!" He called and (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight of the shotgun strapped to his shoulder. Rose sighed quietly, locking the front door and gliding down the steps with her son in tow. She took the two bags and squeezed them into the small backseat, ensuring they'd remain still and not squish (Y/N) at any rapid turn during the ride.

"Where are we going?" He asked tentatively and peered up at his mother.

"I-"

"Shit," Steven hissed, and (Y/N) turned around to see Tyler rushing out of his house only to trip on the last step and fall into the grass by the driveway. His aunt staggered out of the house after him, her body movements jerky and weird, both limp and stiff. Tyler scrambled on the grass that had been wet by the sprinklers only minutes before the first explosion, the slippery grass preventing him from getting back on his feet. "Get in the truck, now."

"It's just Becca, Steven," Rose said breathlessly, her hands reaching out toward her son to pull him close. 

"No, sweetheart," Steven sighed and lifted the shotgun, pointing it directly in Mrs. Gorman's direction. His finger slipped over the trigger. "That's not her anymore."

"What happened to Steven?" Ellie asked gently, her head fully propped up on her fist as she stared at him, completely engrossed by the story. A grimace had appeared on Joel's face toward the end, an all too knowing look passing over his dark eyes. The panic, confusion, the way the world turned upside down in a matter of hours... it was something the new generation of children like Ellie never got to experience. Instead of knowing the joy of running around freely, of visiting different cities and states. All they knew was the fear and death that followed.

"I don't know," (Y/N) admitted softly. "But knowing him... he's probably still around trying to help people."

"I bet he and Joel would've been buds," Ellie said, slumping back in her seat and wiggling closer to the window, propping one arm along it and staring out at the passing scenery. (Y/N) exhaled in amusement and glanced at Joel when the older man rolled his eyes, still as silent as always. What a pair they made. A young chatterbox and an older man who could spend days without speaking. But it was part of his charm, in a way. Silent but always observing, always watching over everyone. 

"Looks like a gas station up ahead," Joel murmured gruffly, pointing out the tall sign in the distance. (Y/N) could see abandoned cars scattered around, many of them long overtaken by nature. The station itself appeared in similar conditions, worn down and overgrown. No sign of infected around. "We'll pull over for a little while and get some gas. Use the bathroom if you have to. We ain't stoppin' until we need to again, alright?"

"Yep." Ellie sighed, reaching for her backpack and slipping her arms through the straps.

Slowly pulling over and stopping the truck, the three hopped out of the truck and surveyed their surroundings. Joel cautiously stepped forward, fingers tightly wrapped around his pistol and his head on a swivel, turning sharply whenever he heard the faintest sounds. (Y/N) shifted around the strap of his sniper rifle and walked toward the gas station, hearing the soft patter of Ellie following after him. He pushed the dirty glass door open and peeked inside, waiting for movement or noise before stepping inside fully and looking around the store. It appeared largely empty and scarce, anything still up on the shelves or fallen on the ground either rotten or useless. 

(Y/N) headed further into the store and purposefully kicked a can, listening to it rattle against the tile floor and fall into silence once it hit the wall. Nothing. No sound of any animals scurrying to hide, no infected crawling out from the darkness. For safe measure, he checked each room, only finding a long-decayed corpse in the storage closet and a caved-in bathroom. With no urge to release his bladder, he turned toward Ellie and smiled. "Seems safe enough. If you need to go, go ahead. Holler if you need or see anything, 'kay?"

"Gotcha." Ellie nodded and returned the smile, sliding the backpack off her shoulders and walking further into the bathroom. She set her backpack on the sink and glanced at him as he turned to leave. "Good luck with Joel." She told him with a playful grin and unzipped her backpack.

Chuckling, (Y/N) nodded and headed back into the store, checking behind the register for anything they'd need before leaving the store completely and heading toward Joel who'd taken it upon himself to siphon gas from the old cars. (Y/N) adjusted the rifle's strap again so it hung at his side instead of his chest and squinted through the glaring sun to watch Joel work. "Ellie's using the bathroom." He informed him, hearing a soft hum of acknowledgment. 

"(Y/N)..." Joel began with a heavy sigh, pushing himself off his knee and picking up the gas canister from the ground. His lips pressed together, his tilted toward the ground as his brows furrowed once more. "I'm... I'm real sorry about your folks. They were good people." 

"And so was Tess." (Y/N) added softly and Joel's features hardened into a grimace, his head turning away from him and his chest rising and falling with a heavy sigh. He made no move to respond or even acknowledge her but (Y/N) could see the pain etched all over his face. He could see the sorrow and pain Joel fought desperately to swallow down and ignore until it faded. "She had a good heart."

"Yeah." Joel forced out and inhaled sharply, his grip on the canister tightening. (Y/N) stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Joel's shoulder, feeling the man tense at his touch and become rigidly motionless. He could only feel Joel's chest moving with each quiet breath until, after a minute of nothing, his arm moved, sliding around (Y/N)'s body loosely at first before tightening with every emotion Joel had long buried under his hardened exterior. His forearm pushed against (Y/N)'s back, pressing them tightly together as Joel buried his face into the crook of (Y/N)'s neck. In a soft, muffled yet pained voice, he spoke, "I miss her."

"Frank used to say that you honor people by living for them... by living because of them. Who else will keep their memory alive is not us, Joel?" (Y/N) told him gently, rubbing his fingertips into Joel's shoulders.

"You are..." Joel interrupted himself with a soft chuckle as he leaned back, "Far too young to be sounding so old."

"I can't help it." (Y/N) smiled, dropping his arms from Joel's shoulders and crossing them over his chest. "You should've seen the books Bill and Frank had me reading." 

"Yeah, I bet half of it was some crazy conspiracy shit." Joel snorted, his shoulders lightly shaking and a rare genuine smile spreading across his face. He had a breathy sort of withheld laugh, one that made him wonder how it'd sound when he found something especially funny, and the type of smile that made wrinkles form around his eyes. 

"You have a pretty smile, Joel. You should do it more often." (Y/N) complimented, running his hand over Joel's bicep affectionately before dropping his hand to his side and turning around. He approached the next car down the line, dipping his arm in through the window of the car and popping open the flap. He wiped his hand clean of dust and dirt with his pant leg before unscrewing the cap for Joel. He stepped aside, finally taking note of the still man. "Joel?"

Joel blinked, gaze darting over to him and flickering toward the flap. "Right. Thanks." He cleared his throat, long legs moving toward the car. He kneeled down beside it, glancing up briefly when Ellie stepped out of the store and began walking toward them. She stood beside (Y/N) and looked down at Joel, watching him begin the siphoning process. 

"We have to do this every hour?" Ellie questioned, one brow arching questioningly. It was easy to forget she hadn't been alive when cars were driven freely down the street instead of armored vehicles or tanks. She hadn't even known how to put a seatbelt on.

"Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water." Joel explained. "Back in the day, we'd drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

"So where'd you go?"

"Pretty much nowhere," Joel inhaled deeply, releasing that air into the tube. A few seconds later, gasoline poured into the other tube and down into the canister. Ellie blinked and perked up, that familiar curious twinkle appearing in her eyes again as she leaned her head forward to get a closer look.

"How does that work?" She asked, taking another step closer. 

"It's a siphon," Joel answered, looking up at her and being met with a blank stare. "It's when... liquid travels against gravity... because pressure-"

"You don't know," Ellie stated simply and giggled when Joel shot her a look. Sticking her hands in her pockets and spinning around to face (Y/N), she tilted her head. "Do you know, (Y/N)?"

The man in question blew a raspberry and shrugged. "Uh... Billy taught me how to do it once a long time ago. Something about gravity, pressure, and elevation. I was like fifteen. I didn't really get much of it but I think Joel was on the right track, actually."

"Exactly." Joel raised his brows at Ellie, almost sassily in fact, and turned his attention back to the tubes. Without having to look up at Ellie to see her expression, he spoke again. "No wondering."

Ellie clicked her tongue and tilted her head up toward the sky, lips pursing defiantly but her feet remained planted on the ground. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile, his eyes catching the wicked grin that sprung out on Ellie's face. She lowered her head and slipped her backpack off, placing her backpack on the hood of the next car with a soft thump. "This is your fault, then." Ellie laughed mischievously and tugged a book free from her backpack.

"Uh-oh." (Y/N) laughed, and then laughed again when Joel's face fell into disbelief and misery. Ellie proudly held No Pun Intended: Volume Too in her hands and loudly cleared her throat as she tossed the pages open. (Y/N) dug his teeth into his bottom lip, a few giggles escaping him as he awaited to hear stupidly cheesy puns and watch Joel's misery intensify. 

"'It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.' " (Y/N) snorted at Joel's silence. "No Pun Intended: Volume Too by Will Livington. Volume too, you get it? Too? Like, t-o-o?"

"Jesus." Joel exhaled heavily, staggering up onto his feet as giggles left Ellie. 

"'What did the mermaid wear to her math class?'" Ellie looked up from the book at Joel, a slow grin spreading across her face. "'An algae bra!' Get it? Like algebra?" 

It took another horrible pun and a burst of giggles for Joel to tell Ellie to wait in the truck while he finished getting gas. The satisfied look on her face and the mischievous smirk spoke volumes as she headed for the truck with a skip to her step. After a few more minutes, the canister was full with gas and the two men returned to the car. (Y/N) climbed back into the passenger seat, setting his rifle between his legs alongside his backpack, while Joel filled the gas tank and set the canister in the back.  The truck rumbled to life and Joel drove them back out onto the road where lines of cars had been forced out onto the edges of the road. 

"Must've been some truck," Ellie said, propped up on her knees to watch the cars they passed by. 

"Yeah, they used to stick big-ass plows on 'em and clear the roads for their tanks and such," Joel explained grimly, glancing at the cars until the lines ended.

(Y/N) stared out into the vast emptiness around them, a stark difference from the forests he'd grown up around. He felt Ellie fiddling around in the backseat, searching around until she pulled out a cassette tape and had Joel insert it, an old country song pouring out from the speakers that (Y/N) vaguely recognized. Ellie continued her search and (Y/N) noticed her dip suddenly behind his seat, the sound of papers crinkling filling his ears. 

"Got somethin' else. It's, uh, light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures-" 

"No, no, no. Put that back." Joel demanded and (Y/N) shifted in his seat, immediately spotting the athletically built shirtless model on the cover. His face immediately heated up and he turned back around, covering his mouth to stifle the embarrassed laughter that left him. "Ellie- Ellie, that is not for kids."

"Oh, my god. I didn't need to see that." (Y/N) whispered. "Throw that away, Ellie. It- It's not for your eyes-"

"Hold your horses! I wanna see what all the fuss is about!" Ellie laughed, continuing to flip through the pages. "Why are all these pages stuck together?"

"Ellie." 

"I'm just fuckin' with ya." Ellie giggled, smacking Joel's shoulder with the magazine before lowering the window and tossing it out into the wind. She slumped back in her seat and rolled the window back up, more laughter escaping her lips until the sights they passed captured her attention. 

They continued driving down the countryside, passing by a multitude of things. From a bison herd to an old overgrown rollercoaster, they drove until the countryside faded into lush forests and roads slowly overgrown with foliage that led to formerly populated areas. They stopped for gas one more time, listening to a few more puns from Ellie that had Joel contemplating his life and (Y/N) cracking up before hitting the road again. (Y/N) enjoyed looking out the window and imagining what the towns must've looked like before nature retook what was once hers. Of course, from time to time they'd pass old machinery where the army had attempted to fight back, whether against the infected or people, (Y/N) couldn't be sure but an uneasiness filled him whenever he spotted a tank or armored truck. 

"Alright, that's enough for today," Joel murmured, turning the truck onto a grassy field and into a thick forest with tall trees where they'd be hidden away from anyone passing by. He parked the truck once satisfied with the spot and got out, collecting the small stove and setting it down on the ground while Ellie explored their camping spot for the night. 

Stirring around the contents from a Chef Boyardee can, (Y/N) poured even servings into three plates and sat back against a mossy rock to eat. For an expired can of ravioli, it surprisingly still tasted good, though his thoughts drifted back to Bill's cooking. He pushed around the ravioli with his fork, idly listening to Ellie and Joel chat about their meal and plans. He couldn't help but think about them, about their last days spent together, about the short and sweet wedding. The urge to eat numbed quickly.

"Here, Ellie." (Y/N) murmured, scraping the remainder of his meal onto her plate and wiping his plate clean to use another time. (Y/N) stood up from the rock and tucked the plate and utensils away. He could feel Joel's stare burning a hole into his back and gave the man a smile to soften his worry. It hardly helped so (Y/N) focused on getting their sleeping bags out of the truck as the sky above them began to darken with night fast approaching. 

With two lanterns, he sat one down between Ellie and Joel's sleeping bags and took the last one for himself. "I'll keep watch." He told them, slipping the rifle strap around his shoulder and patting Ellie's head as she lowered down to wiggle into her sleeping bag. She swatted playfully at his hand and chuckled, pulling the pun book and a flashlight out of her backpack before using it as a pillow. Joel glanced at him and stiffly nodded, settling into his own sleeping bag and watching him walk a few feet away. 

(Y/N) leaned back against a tree trunk and set his lantern down by his feet, taking the strap off his shoulder and holding the rifle. His eyes trailed down the gun until they found the words engraved just above the trigger. B&F. His thumb ran over the rough letters, pressing into them until they left an imprint on his skin. He took a deep breath and raised his head, scanning the area around him. With everything falling into darkness, he was left to depend on his hearing for any sign of something amiss. But all he heard was the rustling of leaves above him and the occasional call of an owl. Fabric rustled behind him and the light from Ellie and Joel's lantern faded, leaving him with his thoughts while they dozed off into slumber.

About twenty minutes passed before he heard the fabric rustling again and peered over his shoulder to see Joel's dark figure getting up. Likely off to use the bathroom, he assumed and looked forward again, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the letters. His teeth nibbled lightly on his bottom lip and he could feel hunger slowly creep in, poking around as it made its presence known. A twig behind him snapped and he turned, finding Joel approaching him. 

"You should be sleeping."

"And you should've eaten." Joel lifted his brows and took his wrist, placing two granola bars and an apple in his hand. He nodded to them and carefully took the gun from him, surveying the area in a glance before looking back at him. "Eat. I'll keep watch 'til you're done."

"Joel-"

"Eat." Joel urged gently, a surprisingly soft look falling over his features. "I have to take care of you, too, alright? Stop actin' stubborn and eat."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #the last of us x y/n #the last of us x you #the last of us x male reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tlou x y/n #tlou #tlou x you #tlou x reader #tlous #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x male reader #joel tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou

[hypewinter]

Quick hypothetical here but what if in this whole Danny and Dick are siblings scenario, Danny took Dick's place? It was Danny who was the sole survivor that night. He was taken in by Bruce and became the first Robin. Danny was the one who helped found the Teen Titans. So on and so on. I just think it would be interesting you know. How much would the dynamics change? Or would it be more or less the same?

To further tackle the nature vs nurture argument. What if the typical separated young scenario was switched. No reincarnated Danny, just regular ol human Danny training with Batman. Meanwhile Dick is the one who somehow finds himself in the care of the Fentons. He's the one who gets zapped by the portal. In this case would it pretty much follow the DC and DP canon except for now their names are switched? Or would there be subtle differences? Like maybe Danny has always been more inclined to engineering than Dick so he ends up building a lot of gadgets. Maybe one of those gadgets ends up leading to Jason's survival. Or perhaps Dick always took his powers/responsibilities seriously so he never made an enemy out of Sidney Poindexter. Perhaps this attitude also led him to getting the townspeople on his side easier.

IDK, I'm just bored and my gears got to spinning a little. What do y'all think? Got any takes?

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales #winter's rambles

[fallout-fallen-knight]

Telling Apart Fallout Protagonists: a Discerning Wastelander’s Guide

Vault Dweller: a Vault Dweller will typically be wearing the Vault 13 jumpsuit, but given the prominence of the Vault through the Interplay-Obsidian games, it’s not a guarantee. Look for the scrungliest teen you can find or - due to the sheer bulk and limited graphics of the game’s default protagonist - a man with the widest tits known to man.

Chosen One: it can be hard to discern Chosen Ones, as they are the least drawn Fallout protagonists. Often, the Chosen One will be clad in armor made from vault suits, power armor, or other series staples. The presence of the Highwayman is a dead giveaway.

Lone Wanderer: Lone Wanderers will often be difficult to parse from Vault Dwellers; always check the Vault number when identifying if possible. Like the Vault Dweller, Lone Wanderers are teenagers, but the Lone Wanderer has a softer, more cherubic side than the Vault Dweller’s harder edge. They may use this soft side to lure in unsuspecting enemies, or they have gone through enough for it to have been worn off - but glimmers of it remain.

Courier 6: there are three dominant subspecies of Courier 6 - the Cowboy, the Ranger, and the Dogtooth (so named for the pattern of their “borrowed” suit jacket). Other variants, such as the Khan or the Ghoul, are less common.

Sole Survivor: unlike other protagonists, the Sole Survivor can often be found in pre-war clothing - if not their main outfit, than an “in town” plumage. The Minuteman General is a common type, but a surprisingly persistent subspecies is the Stepford. Overwhelmingly female, the Stepford can be identified by their blond hair, blue eyes, uneasy smile. Be careful around the Stepford, though: those red splotches on her dress aren’t flowers, and that’s not jewelry glinting behind her black.

Reclaimer: extremely uncommon and hard to identify.

#queue #fallout 1 #fallout 2 #fallout 3 #fallout new vegas #fallout 4 #fallout 76 #vault dweller #chosen one #lone wanderer #courier 6 #sole survivor #falloutfun

[deathbxnny]

hello!! may i request stelerron hunters with a teen!vampire reader? (reader around 14-16)

basically elio picked them up from a deserted planet, and they were the sole survivor on it,all of the population died due to lack of livestock, and elio found them alive, thirsty and hungry

though they dont have much problem eating or drinking their enemies, they will never hurt their teammates even if they saw them with scars/blood, and would hold themselves, sometimes even bite on their arm/wrist/hand so that they dont succumb to their thirst

-----♡

A/N: Ooh, I really like the idea! Kinda reminds me of "Seraph of the end" (I've been waiting on season 3 for years now and am losing hope-)! Thank you for the request and sorry for the wait!<33

Content: TW!Slight gore warning? (Just mentions, nothing descriptive), Platonic relationships, mentions of blood, mentions of battles/fights, Reader is a Teen and a vampire, questionable cannibalism?? (Idk if it counts-), angst if you squint, fluff

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Kafka

Kafka was instantly intrigued by you. She found it interesting, that your kind could only live off of blood, although she did also feel bad for your people. You were the only one to survive and thankfully strong enough to help the organisation out, which is why she was assigned to be your caretaker.

At first, she assumed that you'd drink anyone's blood indiscriminately, as your thirst and hunger was too strong to resist. The way you tore into your enemies for their blood was proof enough. It was a brutal, yet somewhat satisfying sight for Kafka, who already found it amusing, that a young kid like you could do so much harm.

But what she didn't expect, was your loyalty to her. The first time she got injured around you, you immideatly bit into your arm to stop yourself from succumbing to your urges. This surprised her greatly, but also caused her to appreciate you more. It also made her realise that she was wrong. You weren't just a mindless, blood drinking vampire after all.

-----♡

》Blade

Blade didn't think much of you at first. A creature that had to drink blood in order to survive was pathetic in his eyes. But seeing you in such a sad and lonely state made him begrudgingly accept to become your caretaker then. Besides, if you ever dared bite him, nothing would happen to him anyways.

With that said, he certainly trained you well for the battlefield. He wanted you to become strong and useful, a perfect weapon for the organisation. But he was much softer on you than he admitted to be. Every time you did well and satisfied your hunger during a battle against enemies, he'd nod his head and pat your head in acknowledgement.

He was surprised however, when you refused to succumb to your urges and bite him too. It took him aback, as he viewed it as a sign or respect and loyalty towards him he didn't know how to handle. And so he quietly thanked you by supplying you with more enemies to drink from.

-----♡

》Silver Wolf

Silver Wolf didn't really care that you were a vampire. In fact, she didn't bother questioning it and just casually took you in. Whether it was because she found you cool or because she actually felt bad, is something you'll never find out either.

Whatever the reason was, she definitely took good care of you and fed you well at that. You kept her safe whenever you were in highstake situations and enemies were closing in on you. She always counted on you covering her whilst she continued working, as it gave you the perfect opportunity to drink your fill.

She also always somehow knew, that you'd never dare attack her. She always made sure you drank enough to satiate your hunger and so she wasn't worried, when she got injured infront of you. You controlled yourself well and respected her enough not to dare it. And Silver Wolf definitely appreciated you for it.

-----♡

A/N: Alright, i hope this was okay! Thank you again for the request!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #hsr kafka #hsr kafka x reader #hsr silver wolf #hsr silver wolf x reader #hsr

[storiesbyrhi]

The Cabin in the Woods

Eddie Munson x Reader 11,339 words

Warnings: natural disasters, death/dying (no character death), medical gore, medicinal drug use, use of Y/N but VERY minimal, no beta.

Synopsis: Something is very wrong in Hawkins and Eddie isn’t answering the phone. A story featuring heavy metal concerts, medical attention, mutual pining, and a cabin in the woods.

Author's Note: Follows canon except they do defeat Vecna – whose final act is the ‘earthquake.’ Set primarily in Hopper’s cabin. I used this website as a floorplan reference. We're pretending it's not as trashed as it is in the show.

Part One: Chrissy Cunningham was Dead

Chrissy Cunningham was dead. She was beautiful, with slightly crooked teeth and sparkly eyes. Her face was all over the news on Saturday morning. A small town golden girl was murdered overnight. Eddie wasn’t answering the phone.

The next day the news came straight from Hawkins again. Fred Benson wore glasses and worked on the high school’s newspaper. He was the sole survivor of a tragic car wreck only to die at the hands of, what the reporter called, a serial killer. Eddie wasn’t answering the phone.

On Monday you went to work and listened to people filter through gossip. The girl died at a trailer park. Some drug dealer’s house. Eddie wasn’t answering the phone.

On Tuesday your mother came home and said, “Did you hear? Turns out they found the boy on the road right near that trailer park.” Eddie wasn’t answering the phone.

He wasn’t answering the goddamn phone for four days straight and there were two dead kids from his town, maybe from his trailer park. Eddie was entirely M.I.A. while Fred Benson and Chrissy Cunningham were dead.

Part Two: In a Fairer World

In a fairer world, you would have grown up in the same shitty small town as Eddie Munson. Alas, you were banished to your own equally shitty and small Indianan town. It meant you didn’t have Eddie to keep you company during lunch periods or ask you to the school dance. It meant you remained lonely for most of your teen years. It meant that the only time you got to spend with Eddie was when your paths crossed at metal shows in Indianapolis or Chicago.

It was in the depths of a cold 1984 winter that you and Eddie first officially met. You had seen each other around, noting the presence of another teen that had snuck into the show or club, but you hadn’t ever spoken. Then, on a particularly bitter night, you and Eddie found yourselves in the same hiding spot.

You’d clocked the bouncers of the venue doing periodical laps inside, spot checking IDs. They only bothered when the air was stale and frozen like it was then. Annoyed, you swiped an open jar of maraschino cherries from behind the bar and ducked your way into a small storage room, no bigger than a broom closet.

It was dark but warm. You were pleasantly buzzed and snacking away when the door opened and another body jumped in, bumping into you with a yelp.

“Fuck! Sorry!” Eddie said but made no move to leave the cramped space. You listened to him feel around the door and wall, then the space was illuminated. He turned to look at you.

“Huh,” was all you said at the revelation of there being a light in the room.

“They’re checking IDs,”

“Yeah,” you replied. “That’s… why I’m in ‘ere,”

“Yeah… Um. You want me to go… or…?”

You shook your head no. “How old are you?” you asked.

“Seventeen. Just,” he answered honestly. “You?”

“Sixteen.”

You swapped names and hometowns, then when the coast was clear went your separate ways.

Between ’84 and ’85 you and Eddie danced around each other. Polite nods and manic grins when you slammed into each other in mosh pits. By March of ’85, you became friends. When there was a show, you’d call each other beforehand to plan the night. City meet ups before and 24/7 diner fries after. Something shifted by the end of ’85.  

While you had graduated, Eddie was repeating again. He was still his usual self, but he had pulled away from you a little. It hurt, because you were desperate to see him. It was scary, finishing high school and tumbling into the adult world. You wanted the routine of Eddie and gigs. Also, somewhere along the line your feelings about Eddie had become different than platonic.

Between the hours of phone calls, the hand holding as you ran through crowds together, and the conversations had while sitting on the curb about all the things the future could hold, you fell in love.

You figured it was one sided. If Eddie loved you back, he would have kissed you. He would have said something, even by accident. He wouldn’t have pulled away at all.

By the spring of 1986 you hadn’t seen Eddie in a couple of months. In the rare phone call, he said he was trying his hardest to graduate. There was one class he had to get credits for, even a D would secure him the high school diploma that had alluded him. Like you always did, you offered to help with homework and edit essays and do anything for him, but like always he laughed the offer off, saying that the teachers would be able to tell his own scribblings from your intelligent words.

You hated when Eddie talked shit about himself. Luckily, it wasn’t too often; given his history and current status as his town’s resident freak, he did surprisingly well at the whole self-esteem thing. There were cracks in the facade though. Deep seated ideas about his worth. Self-deprecating jokes. It hurt to know things like that lived somewhere in him while he lived in a place determined to make his life shitty.

Despite knowing just how much Hawkins misunderstood Eddie, and despite hearing the rumours of a trailer park, you still couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

Hiding from parents who were asking when you were going to move out, you had been flicking through television channels on the couch in the basement. The couch was musty, with wet patches that never seemed to dry. The T.V. set was old and staticky. Still, it was better than being upstairs.

You stopped on the news to watch a segment on the violence in the Gulf of Sidra between the U.S. and Libya. There were no American casualties. While you were wondering if there were Libyan deaths, the news anchor was shuffling his papers.

“And now to local news. Small town Indiana has been rocked by another in a series of violent murders. Patrick McKinney brings the body count to three, and with rumours of Satanism, Hawkins, population 13,400, is once again in the spotlight.”

The story played out. A reporter in the field stood outside the boundary lines of Forest Hills Trailer Park. “This is a town all too familiar with murder and mystery,” she said. A photograph of a teenage girl named Barbara. Another of the missing child Will Byers. A mall fire. More deaths. More misery.

Frozen in place, your skin broke out in goosebumps and your mouth went dry. Tears pricked at the edges of your eyes and butterflies scraped their razorblade wings across the lining of your stomach.

“And now, three more deaths can be added to the tally, but what has profoundly shaken this quiet town is the thought of a murderer in their midst.”

It cut to a teenager in a green varsity jacket with a microphone held out to him. “We always knew he would do something like this. Guy’s a total freak,” the teen said.

“And the rumour of Satanism?” asked the reporter, aiming the mic back at the teen.

“Oh, yeah. He listens to that devil music and he’s the leader of a cult. They’re called Hellfire.”

Before your brain had a chance to connect the dots for itself, Eddie’s photo was on the screen. The reporter’s voice was steady and sure as she said, “Edward ‘Eddie’ Munson is a twenty-year-old who attends Hawkins High. He is law enforcement’s prime suspect. The first victim was located inside his residence here at Forest Hills Trailer Park, and a witness claims to have seen Munson in the vicinity of the third victim at the time of their death. Munson lives with his uncle, who has declined an interview.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you began to rock back and forth in an attempt to self-sooth. You didn’t register it, but you whimpered as you watched the closing of the news report.

“Are the people of Hawkins cursed? Has the occult been attracted to an already traumatised town? Or is this simply the work of a disturbed young man? Law enforcement is asking all residents of Hawkins and surrounding areas to remain vigilant. Do not approach any suspects. Call your local police department or Crime Stoppers with any information you may have. We will keep you updated on any developments.”

The screen cut back to the news anchor, who moved on to banter with the weatherman. It felt like all the air and sound in the basement had been sucked out in a vacuum. You couldn’t breathe. Your vision was blurry. You were going to puke.

Making it to your bedroom, you threw yourself into your small bathroom and curled up on the cool tiles. There were tears but you weren’t properly crying. Every tiny spark of energy in you was dedicated to figuring out what the absolute fuck you had just seen.

It wasn’t possible, you knew that. Eddie had been generous and sweet since you met him. He was respectful and got pissed when people didn’t observe metal gig etiquette. He pulled people out the mosh when they needed help. He’d bought you more bottles of water than you could count. Eddie was so deeply a lover, not a fighter.

So, no, there wasn’t even a split second where you thought he was guilty. It was simply instantaneous terror for where he was and what would happen once the pitchfork wielding townspeople or the trigger happy cops found him.

A knock on your bedroom door snapped you from your spiraling.

“What?” you yelled.

“What’s with all the door slamming?” your dad’s voice yelled back.

“Nothing. Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

There was a pause. “You okay?”

You sat up and breathed out. “Yeah. Sorry,”

“Alright…”

It wasn’t until you heard his boots walk down the hall that you got up and moved to the telephone next to your bed. Eddie’s number was still connected, but it rang and rang like it had for days. You tried it all night, but there was no answer.

Sleep came in short restless bursts. The following day you got sent home from work early for crying in the bathroom. You apologised and made up a story about a death in the family, earning you a week off.

After another sleepless night, nobody picking up the phone, and all the catastrophising your brain could do, you thought it couldn’t get any worse.

When you emerged late in the morning for breakfast, you found your parents in the living room watching a breaking news story.

“There’s only twenty-two confirmed casualties so far but it’s… it’s bad here, John,” the corresponded said. They were crossing from what appeared to be some sort of natural disaster.

“Are we sure it was an earthquake?” John from the studio asked.

“That’s what the authorities are saying. Seismologists say 7.4. The townsfolk though, they seem to be asking questions.”

“What happened?” you asked your parents.

“Earthquake hit… Did you feel anything?” your mum replied.

“What do you mean?”

“It was here. Indiana.”

Somehow, you knew.

“I didn’t feel anything… Are we even on bloody tectonic plates?” your dad said.

“That poor town,”

“Something going on there, let me tell you. I was talking to Bill at work. He’s got a cousin out that way. Says the whole place has been swarming with feds, even before this,”

“Because of the murders?” she asked.

“That and everything else.”

The back and forth between your parents was making your blood run cold, you shushed them and turned up the television.

“We’re hearing now that a suspect is in custody for the recent string of murders, but it seems like Hawkins has bigger problems,”

“Yeah, John, the people are banding together to help neighbours out. We’ve seen federal support mobilise quickly. But nobody has forgotten about Eddie Munson and the occult murders,”

“He’s in custody?”

“We can’t confirm if it’s him, but we’ve been assured a suspect has been taken in,”

“Right, and the earthquake - what can people at home do to help?”

A phone number appeared on screen with a call to donate funds to help Hawkins rebuild. The sound of your parents discussing an appropriate amount to give, then finding their credit cards, then calling the number, then being annoyed at joining a queue, became white noise.

Whatever was happening in your brain was all happening on a subconscious level. You were standing still, not a single thought in your mind. Just a shell, waiting for something to come from deeper within yourself to move you.

Suddenly, “I… have to go. I have to go.”

Flying down the hall and into your bedroom, you were throwing random articles of clothing and toiletries into a bag while your parents were still on hold. When you ripped back through the house, your mum noticed the frenzy and started to trail you. Kitchen, fridge, apple, a couple of cans of Dr Pepper. Cupboard, chips. Hallway, keys. You only stopped when your mum yelled your name.

“What?!”

“What are you doing?!”

“I… I have a friend. In Hawkins. I have to go,”

“No, no you don’t. They’ve said not to go. It’s too dangerous. There’s a number you can call to find friends and family,”

“You don’t understand. I have to go. I have to.”

The expression on your mother’s face was fear. Your dad appeared and his was all confusion. For a second you considered saying that the friend was Eddie, but logic reasoned a second later.

“I’m going,” you asserted, holding the keys in your hand tighter and taking a step backwards toward the door. “I’m sorry.” And you bolted out the front door and into your car.

In a fairer world, you would have grown up in the same shitty town as Eddie. In a fairer world, whatever was haunting Hawkins would have never existed. In a fairer world, Eddie would have loved you like you loved him. Alas, the world was unfair in far more ways than you could have even begun to imagine.

Part Two: The Drive to Hawkins

The drive to Hawkins was long and lonely. The route bypassed Indianapolis and looped around to continue to the other side of the state. Despite the authority’s warning, it seemed like hundreds of people were lined up to get into the small town. The roads were at a standstill and you spent the night behind the wheel.

You caught a few hours of sleep before being woken by the horns of the cars behind you. That process repeated itself until almost midday the next day. By the time you hit Hawkins’ welcome sign, you were close to peeing yourself and exhausted beyond belief.

Parked at a playground and barbeque area, went to the toilet, and made an attempt to wash your face and armpits. It was when you were reading a tourist information board that it dawned on you that you had no idea where to start. Looking around, you felt like you were at the epicenter of chaos.

Smoke was still billowing in the sky on the horizon. The sound of sirens was constantly audible. There were cars and people everywhere. If you focused on the noise, you could hear crying. The news was right – Hawkins was a cursed place.

“Okay, okay,” you said to yourself. “Okay.”

If Eddie had been arrested, it was unlikely he would be allowed visitors. At the very least though, you may get some information. If he hadn’t been arrested, if justice had prevailed in the so-called-land of the free, then you could try Forest Hills after.

Normally, going anywhere near a cop shop was a hard no, but for Eddie, you’d do it.

When you got to the closest station, you realised how hard the task in front of you was going to be. You had to park blocks away, walking through crowds of people looking for missing loved ones, and past tents of what you feared were body bags.

“Sorry, excuse me?” you said to someone official-looking woman holding a clipboard. They were trying to answer multiple people’s questions. You waited patiently until it became clear that manners couldn’t co-exist with an environment like that. “I’m looking for someone,”

“Everyone is, honey. Check the board for names. Black one has photos of bodies. Red one is for missing people. You see someone you recognise, bring the photo to me. If they’re already on the red board, nothing more you can do.”

There was a third possibility that you legitimately hadn’t thought of, one worse than being wrongfully arrested. What if Eddie had died in the earthquake?

You started to cry, but you were just one person in a sea of misery. Nobody stopped to see if you were okay. Nobody looked at you like you were being weird in public. You were just another grief-stricken person.

After powerwalking back to your car and throwing yourself into the backseat to curl up, you sobbed for what felt like hours. When you calmed down and poke your head up, only minutes had been spent. Fifteen at most.

You climbed over the centre console to sit back in the driver’s seat. You wound your window down and rummaged through your bag for some tissues. Wetting some with the last of your bottled water, you washed your face.

There were still people everywhere, and you could make out a conversation happening close.

“What do we do now?” a small voice asked.

You glanced at your side mirror and watched as a man and woman embraced.

“I don’t know… They said search parties are being organised over at the school…” the man replied.

“I just want to find her,”

“I know… I know. Me too… Let’s just… Just go there. Heard it’s been set up with food and water too. You need to eat something,”

“I’m not hungry… I just want to find her.” The woman began to cry.

It felt wrong to be listening to their conversation, but there was nowhere to go. You saw the couple begin to walk. The woman seemed frail and the man had a scarf tied around his leg. Even through the mirror’s reflection you could tell he was injured.

“Excuse me!” you called after them, sticking half your body out the window. “Do you need a ride?”

Maybe manners couldn’t function, but humanity certainly could.

The man nodded and did not hesitate as he pulled the woman along and got her into the back seat. He slid in next to her.

“Thank you,”

“Yeah. No worries… Um, where do you need to go?” you asked, playing dumb.

The man directed you to the school. You dropped them off at the front door before driving back down the block in search of somewhere to park. The drive had been silent save for the directions. Every part of you was crying out to ask if they knew Eddie. Did they know where he was? Was he okay?

As you approached the school on foot, you read the signs someone had made out of pieces of plywood and a can of spray paint. Search parties and missing people information were inside the main building. First aid and immediate supplies were inside the gymnasium. Not knowing what to do, you flipped a coin in your head, and walked in the gym.

It felt calmer inside. Cots were set up for the injured. It seemed this was triage for the not mortally wounded. Nobody was screaming in agony. Volunteers were handing out cups of water and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Across the space more volunteers were sorting donations of blankets, toys, and other items. The room was lined with pinboards covered in missing people posters. There were people in fluorescent vests giving orders and answering questions. It had only been about 36-ish hours since the earthquake, but already the operation to help was well underway.

You made your way around to where the donations were being collated and organised. A girl looked up as you approached the table. “Hi! What do you need?” she asked. “We’ve got pillows and blankets. Jackets too?”

“Oh, ah, no. I’m okay… I was actually looking for a friend.” You saw her face drop and her mouth open as if she was trying to work out how to redirect you. Before she could, you said, “Not like, a missing friend. I don’t think he’s missing. I just, um, can’t get a hold of him… So, I was maybe looking for someone that knows him? Like a friend?”

“Oh… Well, it is a small town. Everyone knows everyone. What’s their name?”

You hated that you hesitated. “Eddie… Munson.”

The girl was startled at even his name. There were people around who looked over at the mention of Eddie too.

“Don’t you know what he did?”

“He didn’t hurt anyone,”

“That’s not what everyone says,” she replied, the earlier kindness in her voice entirely gone.

“They’re wrong.”

The girl’s expression fell neutral and she stared at you.

“Do you know where he is? Was he arrested?”

It was clear she was deciding if she wanted to give you the information or not. “No,” she eventually offered. “Everyone reckons he did some freak witchcraft shit to get out of it. Cops say they have the real killer and everything.”

You bit your tongue. Starting a fight in an earthquake crisis centre was not a good look. “Okay, so he should be at home?”

The girl shrugged. Despite her intentions, she had been helpful. You left her without a word more and headed for the exit.

You didn’t get far before someone was yelling after you. At first you didn’t respond, thinking they were calling for someone else. “Hey! Ah, hey, miss?!” But then they said, “You know Eddie?”

Spinning, you took a step towards the guy. He was around your age and had a pretty face. He wore a clean blue sweater and seemed relatively put together considering everything happening around him.

“Is he okay? Do you know where he is?”

The guy looked you up and down conspicuously. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” you parroted immediately.

“Sorry… It’s just… There’s a lot of people looking for him… Not all, you know-” He shook his hands in a gesture that meant nothing to you. “Not all friendly,”

“Are you his friend? What’s your name,”

“Steve. I’m Steve… I guess, yeah… Yeah, I’d say we’re friends… New friends, but friends. Been through some… stuff together. Really bonds two guys. People! Two… People. Two separate people…”

“Steve? He’s never mentioned a Steve,”

“Yeah, ah, like I said – new friends,” Steve said tilting his head to the side. “You’re not from Hawkins, are you?”

You shook your head. “I see him in Indy. We go to shows together-”

“Oh! Yeah! No, he talked about you… Which, all things considered, it’s gotta mean something. Not a lot of casual conversation in the middle of all this,” he said, motioning to the surrounding chaos. Steve saw your sad eyes, the tiredness written all over your face. The pins on your jacket. The boots. He was sharper than people gave him credit for and was appropriately suspicious of things. There was a feeling though, a flutter of empathy. “Y/N, right?”

“Yes. Please. Is he okay? I need to see him.”

Steve folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “My shift here isn’t over, but I’ll call someone. They can take you to him,”

“Thank you. Yes. Thank you.” You jumped at Steve, holding him in a hug.

He was unprepared and slow to react. “Ah, yeah, yeah. You’re welcome. Just go sit over there somewhere.”

Saying nothing else, just nodding eagerly, you followed Steve’s instructions, walking down the sidewalk to sit near the school’s bike racks.

It took less than two minutes before the sounds of everything started to pin prick at your heart and lungs. Despair and desperation. You wished you had your headphones, a mixtape made by Eddie and sent through the mail to keep you company, but the batteries in your Walkman were long dead after the drive to Hawkins.

Part Three: “Are You Eddie’s Girlfriend?”

“Are you Eddie’s girlfriend?”

Dustin Henderson was exactly how Eddie described. You recognised the boy before he finished turning into the car park on his bike. Even under his Thinking Cap, his hair was trademark. He beamed at you as he came to a stop, asking the question like it wasn’t going to throw you into inner turmoil.

“Ah… We’re friends,”

“That’s what he says but…” He paused to wriggle his eyebrows.

You stood up and brushed grass off your pants. “Where is he?”

“You got a car? It’s too far to go with you on the handlebars.” Dustin smiled when you nodded. He got off his bike and took a long time trying to get it to fit in the back of your car.

As the kid directed you out of the heart of Hawkins, you were relieved that you didn’t have to think of things to say. Dustin had that covered. It started with a question, “So, earthquake, huh?” It was as if he was testing you.

“Yeah? I’m… uh, sorry? That how you hurt your leg? Is, is your house okay?” you replied.

“It wasn’t an earthquake…” He paused to gauge your reaction. You kept your eyes on the road and said nothing. “You know how people say Hawkins is cursed? They’re not entirely wrong.”

He told the story of three boys searching for their fourth. A story of monsters and heroes, love and hope.

“He was just with the wrong person at the wrong time,” Dustin told you, introducing Eddie into lore. “The first person that died, the one that started all this, was Chrissy. You probably saw her on the news. She went to Eddie’s to buy drugs and that’s when he got her.”

There was a foreignness in how Dustin said ‘buy drugs,’ and even with all he had been through, that alone was a reminder of the fact he was just a kid.

“He?”

“Vecna. The bad guy. He killed her and Eddie was there,”

“Right. And everyone thought he did it,”

“Yeah,” Dustin nodded. “Turn left up here. All of this, the ‘earthquake’ and everything, is Vecna.”

You took the left and slowed down, the road unpaved and winding into a wooded area. As Dustin continued to give you directions, adding more fantastical details about Hawkins and his friends, you began to worry more and more.

“Wait, wait. So, if Vecna is, like, dead or whatever… and Eddie has been cleared, why are we driving into the middle of a forest? Why’s Eddie hiding?”

For the first time in the conversation, Dustin seemed like he didn’t want to speak.

“Dustin?”

“Ah…”

“What’s wrong? What happened to him?”

“Can I just say that you’re handling all this very well,”

“Dustin!”

“I mean, it’s a lot,”

“Dustin. What happened to Eddie?”

Dustin sighed, looking out the window and spotting the end of the road up ahead. “He tried to be a hero.”

You glanced at the kid, then rolled to a stop.

“Maybe he should tell you this part,” Dustin said.

When you looked at each other, you could see the trauma Dustin hid behind a quick wit and years of living in flight or fight mode. He deserved a break; you nodded.

“Yeah, alright,”

“He’s pretty beat up. He’s gotta be in more pain than he’ll admit. Maybe… maybe you can help with that,”

“Should he be in a hospital?”

“Yeah, definitely. He made up some crap about how someone more in need deserved the bed.” Dustin frowned.

Cutting the engine, you got out of the car. The sound of Dustin pulling his bike out drew your attention.

“What now?”

“The path is pretty clear. Just follow it up,”

“You’re not coming?”

“Nah. If I’m gone long, Mom will freak out,”

“Can’t blame her… You sure you should ride that far? With your leg, I mean,”

“I’m fine. Stronger than I look, you know. We’ll bring supplies tomorrow morning. Everyone will wanna meet you too.”

Did Eddie really talk about you that much?

“Okay,”

“See ya, Y/N.”

Dustin rode off back the way you’d come. You stood watching until he was completely out of sight and sound. It was eerily quiet in the woods then.

The walk was only a few minutes. The path led to a small structure that didn’t look like a place for a hero at all.

As you climbed the steps to the cabin, you noted all the missing nails and rotten wood. At the door you held a hand up to knock, then hesitated.

Fuck.

You breathed in deeply then knocked, calling out, “Eddie?” in a weird sort of yell-whisper. The sound cut through the serenity of nature, making you cringe. With a shaking hand, you opened the door, pushing it inward, grateful it didn’t squeak with rust.

The place was small. Directly to your left was a bathroom and to your right a kitchenette. A small living room was ahead, with a door open wide on the opposite wall; you could see it was a bedroom, the bed made and most of the floor space taken up by boxes. The final door, adjacent to the kitchen, moved; you watched it open slowly.

From the darkness, Eddie emerged to lean his weight on the doorframe. His hair was tied in a messy bun, and he wore track pants and a long-sleeved flannel shirt that was at least three times too big for him. Part of his face was covered with bandages, and he had deep lines under his eyes that you’d never seen him with, not even when he was his most hungover.

“Y/N?” Eddie’s voice was croaky, his throat dry. He looked confused and dazed. You were the last person he expected to see.

You were across the room and reaching out for him before he could warn you. As soon as you grabbed him, he winced and made the same sound a puppy does when you accidentally step on his tail.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! Sorry. Fuck. Are you okay? Sorry.”

Eddie tried to control the pain, but it kept hold, forcing a contorted expression to linger on his face. You stepped away from him.

“Eddie- I’m- Oh my god,” you breathed out. “What’s happening? What happened? Are you- Fuck.” You didn’t know where to start or what to say. Suddenly, your mouth was moving before you had a chance to censor or edit yourself. “I saw the news. I tried to call but when I couldn’t get a hold of you, I… I freaked out,”

“How-” Eddie tried to ask, but the pain was rolling down his spine.

“Dustin,” you replied. “Um, I was…” Totally and utterly terrified for Eddie. Unable to go on with life without knowing he was safe. No, not just knowing. Seeing him for yourself. “I went to the school, ‘cause it’s all set up as a crisis centre or whatever. I asked someone about you, and a guy named Steve heard. He called Dustin for me. He showed me the way here.”

Eddie managed a small nod. “He outside?”

“No. He had his bike when we met up. We had it in my car and he rode it home. Just us… Should you sit? Back to bed?” you asked, trying to look behind him into the room he’d come from.

Carefully, he turned around and retreated. You followed along behind him, turning the light on as you entered the room. Eddie stood over the bed, and before you could work out how to help, he just let himself fall onto the mattress. He hissed and clenched his teeth, screwing his eyes shut so tightly that it made you shudder.

The single bed was old, low to the ground. You knelt and gently took one of Eddie’s hands. Looking around the room, you began to understand the gravity of the situation.

On the bedside table was a mountain of different medications – antibiotics and painkillers and other things you didn’t recognise. There were bottles of water next to the bed, empty ones thrown about the room. Some evidence of food, but mostly unfinished packets of chips and cookies. Sitting on a table against the opposite wall was a box of medical supplies, and next to that a pile of bloody and gore covered bandages and tissues. The final piece of the puzzle was a bucket under the bed that you couldn’t see into but you guessed was for pee.

“Eddie… When did you last take anything for the pain?”

You thought about what Dustin had said. If Eddie was in more pain than he let on, he probably wasn’t taking a reasonable amount of painkillers.

His eyes fluttered open, and he slowly turned his head to face you. When he glanced at the bedside table, he pulled a face. “Dunno.”

You were confident that it was a significant time ago. “Okay, well, we’re taking some now,”

“M’fine,”

“No. No, you’re not. You’re the least fine I have ever seen anybody in my life. Eddie, whatever happened, this is… insanely fucked. Please, just take some of this and-” A shaky breath in. “And you can tell me what the hell is happening.” 

You studied his face. The patch bandage on Eddie’s face wasn’t a clean white. You could see whatever wound was beneath it was still actively bleeding. He had dirt and grime around his hairline. His lips were chapped badly and now close to him, you could see knots in his hair were matted. Whatever happened forty-eight hours ago when the ‘earthquake’ happened, Eddie still wasn’t clean of it.

His big brown eyes met yours and he gave in, opening his mouth. You put two oxycodone tablets in his mouth. He swallowed them dry.

You sat with him, holding his hand for a little while longer. Eventually, when his breathing had settled into a healthier rhythm and it looked like he’d stopped clenching every muscle in his body, you said, “I’m going to, um, clean up a bit, then when those kick in I’m moving you to the couch out there, or the other bed. You need to get out of this room.”

Eddie made the smallest of nods, and you watched him close his eyes and zone out again.

Turning the light off and leaving the bedroom, you closed the door behind you and leaned your back against it, holding in a sob that was trying to claw its way out your chest. It hadn’t been the reunion you’d pictured. You had no idea what had happened to Eddie, or how hurt he was, but letting your mind try to fill in the blanks was a bad idea.

“Okay,” you said to yourself with a nod.

The cabin wasn’t as bad as you had initially thought. It was old and in need of updating and repairing, but it wasn’t leaking or covered in mould. Finding cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, you wiped down surfaces and collected all the trash into a bag. It became clear that if Eddie was bedridden, other people were spending a lot of time there. The garbage, the blankets and pillows on the couches, and the dishes drying in a rack told you enough.

The sun was beginning to set as you cooked a vegetable stew. A lot of veggies were in their final days of edibleness, and that way you could put some in the freezer for easy meals later. Later? You caught yourself in the thought; how long did you think you were staying? Did Eddie even want you to be there at all?

You set a bowl of stew down on the old wooden chest that served as a coffee table in front of the couch.

“Eddie,” you called, going back into the bedroom. “I’m turning the light back on… Has the oxy kicked in?”

Eddie looked at you, more lucid than before. You could see his pupils were blown. He shrugged a little, trying to sit up.

“Okay. That’s better than no. Come on. Food’s ready.”

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure you were real. When you held your hands out to him, he took them and let you gently pull him up. He walked slowly, then sat on the couch at equal speed.

You moved the bowl from the table to his lap, checking it wasn’t hot to touch.

“You good?”

Eddie nodded as he looked at the stew, picking up the spoon.

The first thing you did in the bedroom was strip the bed. There was no washing machine in the cabin, so you balled all the linen up in another big garbage bag. Next went all the trash and the bucket under the bed. You swept the floor and wiped down the bedside table and the desk. All the medical supplies found new homes in the bathroom, and you went through the duffle bag of clothes to determine what needed washing and what could be folded neatly onto the desk.

The springtime air was crisp, but you opened the window anyway. With the room airing out, you closed the door to protect the rest of the cabin from the cold.

Eddie had eaten all the stew. It gave you an albeit small but no less real sense of peace. If he could eat, he’d be okay. As you took the bowl to fill again, you spoke.

“Dustin is exactly how you described him, by the way,”

“How was he?” Eddie asked.

“I mean, I don’t know him… but… he was weirdly… chipper? No boundaries? Inappropriate?”

“That’s him… He shouldn’t be riding his bike,”

“His leg?” you guessed.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah,”

“What happened?”

Eddie went quiet, took the second bowl of stew you handed him. He started to eat.

“He told me about everything. Well, not everything everything. Just everything before… Whatever happened to you… But about, um, Vecna? And the upside down. And Chrissy.”

Eddie’s eyes looked for anywhere that wasn’t where you were sat on the couch next to his.

When Eddie thought of you, he thought of heavy metal crowds and cheap beer and being the person he wanted to be. He thought of how you were escapism from the shitty life he had. How you thought he was cool and funny and good enough to be a friend. How you sounded over the phone late at night, all sleepy and cute. How you looked dressed for a gig. Eddie never wanted you to be in Hawkins. He never wanted you to see him in the context of his everyday life.

Of all the fucked up things that had happened over the past week, having that pure, beautiful, escapism taken away from him might be the worse.

“You don’t have to stay and… look after me or whatever,” Eddie said. Although there were some bitter tones in his voice, he mostly sounded sad.

He’d been in and out of consciousness for forty-eight hours. Things slipped from the dreaming into reality. Demobats in the corner of the bedroom. Lightning as the fridge opened. You, holding his hands and making him stew. But you were real, Eddie was only just fully becoming aware of it. He was confused by your presence, and ashamed of what you were seeing.

You were meant to know Eddie at his best and most beautiful. Not this. Not this broken and hollowed-out version.

“I know that… And, um, I know it’s kind of weird for me to just show up. Since we’re not like…”

Eddie looked up, afraid you were about to say that you weren’t friends at all. “It’s not weird.”

You smiled. “I’m just saying I know I don’t have to be here. I mean, we haven’t really talked heaps lately anyway.”

That was on Eddie. He didn’t know how to talk to someone he was falling in love with. Still didn’t.

“But I just… needed to know you were okay. And to tell you I know you’d never do the things the news said you did,” you continued.

He didn’t know what to say. “This is good,” he decided on, holding up the now-empty bowl.

“There’s more. You should let that settle though,”

“When did you get all…” He was going to say ‘parental’ or even ‘maternal’ but had enough cognitive energy to stop. “Uh, good at playing nurse.”

Last time Eddie had seen you, you were shotgunning a warm beer handed to you by the singer of a local metal band in Indi. She had pulled you on stage, impressed to see a girl handling herself amongst the big guys. You’d shotgunned the beer, sprayed half back over the crowd like a fountain, then jumped with reckless abandon onto the pit. It was a far cry from the stew-brewing, soft voiced girl he was looking at.

“If you wanna see nurse, I can do nurse. When did you last shower?”

 At the hospital, they gave him a sponge bath where it was necessary. Before that, well, Lovers Lake probably didn’t count. And after… Eddie had barely set foot in that bathroom. Bare fucking minimum. He picked at his nails, trying not to focus on the black underneath them.

 “Not meant to get the bandages wet,”

“Right… Well, speaking of the bandages. When were they last changed?”

Fuck, Eddie thought. He walked right into that one. “Nancy came yesterday,”

“Is Nancy an actual nurse?”

“No. She’s just, like, really smart. Like… really smart.”

You folded your arms across the chest. “Remember when you said you were fine after you accidentally headbutted the barrier at Sabbath? Then your nose started to bleed later? And it turned out you had a full on concussion?”

Eddie laughed at the memory, but as soon as his chest started to shake, the pain flooded his entire body. He hunched over, whining. He hadn’t laughed since the upside down. It was the most he’d demanded of his body, even if indirectly.

He was incoherent with pain. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t make sense of his surroundings. Eddie didn’t register you rushing over to him and falling to your knees, hands framing him but not touching him.

“Eddie? Fuck, Eddie. What can I-”

His entire perception was clouded by agony. The tears streamed down his face and hit the wooden floor.

There was nothing you could do but wait. Carefully, you rested your hands on his knees and listened to him do his best to breathe through it.

“I’m going to get more oxy,” you said, standing.

“No!” His voice sounded desperate; desperate enough that you knelt back down. “Shit’s too addictive. I don’t wanna-”

“I know,” you interrupted. “I know. But there’s a big fucking difference between your asshole dad, and you needing to be able to function.”

Eddie tried to sit up straighter, but it hurt too much.

“Come on Teddy Bear.”

It worked. Eddie looked up at you through narrow eyes. Even in immense pain, he couldn’t let it slide. You grinned at him.

“Seriously though. Dustin said you should still be in the hospital. So… If that’s a no, then you’re stuck with me.”

You looked at each other for a moment. There was something in both your gazes that scared the other. Quickly, you moved to go get more painkillers. Eddie took what you gave him.

“So, are we gonna talk about why you won’t shower? ‘Cause you’re the cleanest metalhead I know. This isn’t very you.”

That’s the problem with you being there, Eddie thought. You knew him too well. His freshmen buddies only knew him as their over-the-top DM, a contextual friend. Nancy, Steve, and Robin, well they didn’t know him at all. He let all of them make assumptions to hide the truth. Maybe if Gareth, Jeff, or Gene were there, they’d see through it, but he’d been able to trick the rest of them.

“I… I tried… Soon as they left, soon as I was alone. All I fuckin’ wanted was a hot shower. But…” He took a shaky breath in and out. “Couldn’t stand for more than a minute without feeling like I was gonna pass out. And the water burns. I don’t know if it’s some fucking upside down bullshit magic that makes it hurt worse, but it’s not… not normal… And that fucking mirror. Not saying I was, you know, Adonis, but ah… The scars are gonna be… Gnarly.”

Trust Eddie to reference Greek mythology in the midst of a literal nightmare.

There was one other obvious option. “A bath then? Shallow? So the… ah, cuts? Whatever. So they aren’t submerged. Then a strategically placed washcloth?” It was more query than statement.

The image in his mind had Eddie sitting in the rusty old bathtub. The water would be lukewarm. His muscles wouldn’t let him maneuver enough to properly clean. He’d hardly be able to stretch his arms up to wash his hair.

“Eddie…”

He looked over at you. “Uh… I…”

“I’ll help,” you said then.

“I don’t-”

“You do. If you could do it yourself you would have… We can be adults about this.”

Eddie didn’t want to be an adult about this. He didn’t want to have to make decisions beyond what song to learn on guitar and how best to torture Hellfire Club. He was sick of life or death choices. Although letting you bathe him like a baby wasn’t really life or death, it kinda felt like it.

“Fine,” he resigned, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.

“Besides…” You stood up. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

God, he missed levity. You beamed when he grinned and snorted.

“That was this is? Miss me that much?” he joked.

A messy summer night in the city. Too many beers. Not enough weed to chill the buzz. The plan was to sleep in the back of the van, but it felt like an oven. Item by item, you ripped your clothes off in the darkness. It was entirely innocent and definitely because of the alcohol. When you woke up, you’d been only in underwear and Eddie was entirely naked. You couldn’t look each other in the eyes for an hour after.

The cabin’s bathroom was clean. You let the water go through the pipes and drain away for a couple of minutes. “Good enough,” you muttered to yourself when the water was mostly clear. There was no bubble bath or luxe body wash. You caught yourself looking before you realised it was a stupid act. There was a stack of washcloths, a bar of soap, and a bottle of 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner. It was all brand new, still sealed, and sitting on the edge of the bath.

You frothed the soap under the running water, trying to create some modesty bubbles or milky-toned water. With only a little luck, you went back into the lounge.

“Do you want to wait for the pills to kick in?”

“Nah. They will. Let’s just get this done before Harrington or anyone shows up.”

Eddie took your held out hands and walked with you to the bathroom. He quickly sat on the toilet, not out of breath but something like that.

“Shirt,” you ordered.

The flannel was easy to unbutton. You were dismayed to find he was wearing a very fucking destroyed Hellfire shirt underneath.

When Eddie made a small yelping sound during his attempt to lift his arms. You stopped him.

“I’m just gonna cut it off,”

“No! Didn’t let Wheeler. Not letting you. Do you know how much these cost to print?!”

You huffed. “Who’s Wheeler?”

“Nancy,”

“New rule. Every time me and Nancy agree on something, it means it’s the right thing to do. Besides, it’s all ripped up and there’s blood and whatever fucking else on that. It’s never gonna be wearable,” you argued.

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was fighting so hard for the Hellfire shirt. Maybe something about surviving in it. Maybe something about trying desperately to claw a little of the past back.

“Fine,” he agreed through gritted teeth.

It took a little work with dull scissors, but you got there. Whatever you were expecting Eddie’s injuries to be, it wasn’t that. You were too slow to stop the gasp that escaped from you; Eddie looked up frowning.

“I’m sorry, I just… What the fuck happened?”

Like the patch on his face, the ones scattered across his torso were bleeding through. You sat on the edge of the bath and turned the water off, the bathroom suddenly quiet. Eddie said nothing. You nodded, accepting the silence.

“How’s the pain?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “‘Cause I think it’s gonna hurt like a bitch to get these off. They look kinda melted to you,”

“Thanks,”

“Sorry! Fuck. Sorry. I just…”

“It’s fine,” Eddie said. “It’s bad. I know it’s bad. It’s whatever… Can you just… Don’t look at me like that?”

You knew what he meant. Eddie hated pity. He hated when people pitied him for his dead mother and shitty father. For living in a one bedroom trailer with his uncle. For repeating high school. For all the things that made the average folk feel awkward. Eddie fucking despised pity.

You nodded. “Yeah. I mean… I don’t feel bad for you at all. Like, Dustin said you tried to be a hero or something? Do some classic Edward Munson Dumb Shit and end up like this, yeah?”

Eddie smiled. “Something like that,”

“Exactly. See? No pity here. Toughen up, kid.”

God, he loved you.

The first bandage – the one across Eddie’s cheek and jaw – came off surprisingly well. You held your expression steady as you worked, absorbing the excess blood and fluid with cotton balls.

The second bandage was covering a neck wound. Your stomach flipped, sick with the thought that it could have killed him. A little deeper and Eddie would have died.

The third wound was collarbone based and the bandage was a lot harder to move. Eddie’s jaw clenched impossibly tight and he was holding his breath.

You remembered when he took you to get your first tattoo. “It helps if you have something to distract you. Music or talking to someone, you know?” Eddie had said.

“Are these… bites?” You’d been almost too afraid to ask, but your brain couldn’t come up with any alternative conversation topics.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied weakly.

Some of the bites were smaller, but most weren’t. Eddie’s chest was more broken skin than not. His left pec was destroyed, and all down his sides were eaten into. Across his stomach bloomed another wound. Even his arms and hands had not escaped the assault.

“Dustin said the plan was to distract the… bats?”

“Demobats,”

“Demobats,” you repeated, the word feeling alien on your tongue. “What went wrong?”

For a couple of seconds, you thought Eddie was going to stay silent, not answering the question. It would have been more than fair. But, he started to speak in a shaky voice.

“We… did… it… Did what we were meant to do, you know? The demobats were away from Creel House. We were on our way out of there. There were… just so many of them. Too many to distract. I went to climb… climb the rope… but…”

Even with a lot of the story filled in by Dustin, you didn’t quite understand the picture Eddie was painting. You had to assume a lot; the rope must have led out of danger? Out of the upside down? Creel House was where Vecna was? You didn’t stop Eddie to ask clarifying questions.

“I just kept seeing Chrissy. In my head. Nobody deserves what happened to her, but she… She came to me for help and I… I kept seeing her and I kept thinking that this was our one shot at killing Vecna. And what if my part was the part that fucked the plan… What if I could actually do more? So, I didn’t climb the rope.”

Eddie thought for a moment, deep in reflection. Had it been worth it?

“I… I went back out there. Figured I could distract them, the bats, some more. Kill some. And I did. Not enough… There was…” Eddie sharply took a gulp of air in. “There were more than before. They were everywhere. I couldn’t see anything, then I… I don’t know.”

He did know. Even running on adrenaline, he could feel each bite. Eddie had locked onto the memory now. It was so vivid in his mind still.

“All the things from there, from the upside down, they’ve got these teeth. Like, hundreds of them. Their faces aren’t faces, they’re just big mouths and the, the lips, or whatever, they open up in every direction, and there are just rows and rows of fucking teeth. Like… a black hole of teeth,”

“Like a lamprey?”

After one fishing trip, Wayne had come home and told Eddie about the ‘vampire tube’ fish – the lamprey. Eddie was obsessed with them for a while after that, finding a book in the school library with a photo, then telling you about them on the phone. Your own public library had the same book, and you could see why a weird little dude like Eddie was so into them.

Eddie looked at you. “Shit… Yeah… Fuck… That but like, a bat…”

“There were dog ones before, right? Dustin said a few years ago there were dog ones,”

“Apparently… and then the human one.”

You tried to imagine a human figure with no face, just flaps of flesh opening to reveal endless teeth. The imagination is powerful, but even yours couldn’t really conjure a picture. Maybe your brain was just trying to protect you from the pure nightmare fuel that description could produce.

“Then they got you?” you asked.

“They got me. But, ah, as they did, they all just fucking dropped from the sky. And it was so quiet until Henderson showed up. I told the little shit to stay where it was safe. But he was there… Did my whole goodbye speech to him, you know? I could… I could feel the blood pooling in all the wrong places. My lungs were swimming in it. I was coughing it up. No way was I gonna live.”

Eddie’s face was as animated as it always was. You weren’t used to it animating terror and agony though. This wasn’t the kind of story Eddie normally told you. Your eyes had welled up with tears and you’d stopped working on removing his bandages.

Eddie’s gaze was fixed on a spot on the bathroom floor. He stared as he spoke. “The others were still setting fire to Vecna. Dustin tried to get there, but he’d messed his leg up pretty good. They found him halfway there, carried him back. Dragged me back. Got me to a hospital,”

“Jesus, Eddie. Why aren’t you still there? It’s been what, a night? Two if you count that night?”

He nodded. “I woke up the next day. They’d given me blood and stitched up the worst of the bites.”

Everyone had tried to keep Eddie in the hospital, but he was refusing a lot of medical care. He hated the accusatory stares and whispers. He couldn’t stand the noise.

There was no point in asking why he wouldn’t stay there. No point in suggesting he went back. Eddie had looked up and seen both those thoughts cross your face.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just needed a little blood,”

“Aren’t there like, long-term effects? What about the blood in your lungs? And, like, did you actually die? What if you have brain damage?”

“Not like I was a genius with a 4.0,”

“Eddie,”

“Y/N.” It was quick. Snappy. Your name in a warning tone.

The remainder of the bandages came off, and you mopped up the carnage as best you could. When you were done, Eddie stood, empowered by the painkillers enough to take his own pants off. He stepped into the bath and lowered himself in. It was all somehow both benignly clinical and breathtakingly intimate.

The water came up to his waist, lapping at the lowest of the wounds. You waited until the waves had settled before speaking again.

“I’m gonna wash your hair first,” you told him. He nodded, seeming smaller in the bath. Childlike helplessness.

You left the bathroom briefly to look for tools. There wasn’t a single brush or comb to be found. Returning with only the largest cup you could find, you settled next to the tub.

Lathering Eddie’s hair with the 2-in-1, you tilted his head backwards and rinsed with the help of the cup. As the water ran down his back, Eddie shivered. You repeated the process two more times, the conversation pausing entirely.

When his wild mane is clean, you raked your fingers through it bit by bit, gently pulling knots out. It’s a somewhat successful method, although you’d have to go for rounds two and three when his hair was dry.

“Close your eyes,” you instructed. Eddie complied. “Keep them closed.”

A washcloth was soaked in slick soap and you covered Eddie’s face in the goo. With great delicateness, you cleaned his hair, face, ears, and neck. The soap didn’t burn the bites like you’d both expected, but the coarse washcloth wasn’t exactly pleasant either.

As you descended Eddie’s body, dirt and muck washing down and turning the bath water a hazy brown, you cleaned the wounds. They started to bleed again, not heavily, but enough that by the time you were at his waist, you needed to pull the plug out and re-fill the bath with clean water.

Eddie was acquiescent. The drugs had well and truly kicked in, building on the mild buzz of the first you’d made him take. Even with the washcloth pain, the experience wasn’t as horrific as it could have been, he decided.

When he was finally clean, you sat on the ground next to the tub. The water had a pink hue from the blood, but he’d stopped bleeding.

“You look like you now,”

“Who’d I look like before?” Eddie replied.

“I don’t know. You from a different dimension. A really, really fucking bad one,”

“Guess I kind of am now.”

You said nothing to that. Maybe he was. Maybe you wouldn’t know this Eddie like you knew yours.

Eddie looked down at his chest, then his legs beneath the water. They ached, despite being unharmed by the demobats. He thought about Dustin and his leg. How he jumped through the gate with such disregard for himself, to try to stop Eddie. Save Eddie. Dustin fucking Henderson, man. Suddenly, a new thought-

“What you said about Dustin. Inappropriate or whatever. Did he say something?”

“He said a lot,” you replied.

“But, ah, what exactly was it that-”

A small laugh escaped you, and Eddie’s sentence stopped dead in its tracks. He looked at you.

 “You seem nervous,” you teased. “The kid know one too many secrets or something?” Eddie’s face was expressionless but you could see his mind working overtime to think of something to say. You put him out of his misery with, “He didn’t say anything. He asked something. Like, straight away. Before a ‘hello’ even,”

“Am I gonna have to give him the world’s worst wedgie?”

“I guess it depends on how embarrassed by the question you are.”

Eddie broke eye contact, looked back down at his body. The entire situation was radically out of his control. Might as well add more spice. “What’d he ask?”

“Kid rolls up. Toothy grin. Busted leg. Happy as fucking Larry. First thing out of his mouth – ‘Are you Eddie’s girlfriend?’”

Part Four: The Cabin in the Woods

The cabin in the woods held warmth better than you would have guessed. After letting the bathwater drain yet again, you left Eddie to sit in hot clean water for the third time, then started the fire in the corner of the living room.

“Whose cabin is this?” you called out.

The bathroom had no door, just a curtain to pull across the open frame. Eddie could hear you just fine.

“Hopper’s,”

“That’s… the Chief of Police, right? The one everyone thought was dead? But was in Russia or something?”

“Dustin really gave you the whole story, huh?”

“Kind of. Don’t know how or why he was there… But isn’t he meant to be dead? Nobody’s meant to know about him?”

It was the first time Eddie realised that you might now be in danger. Although not being privy to the truth about Hawkins wasn’t necessarily a guarantee of safety, being included in its secrets definitely bumped up the ‘likely to die a horrible death’ stats. At the very least, you’d be on someone’s watch list now.

“Yeah. He was gonna stay here, but too many people know about it.”

Made sense, you thought. “So, why are you here? The cops aren’t after you anymore. Don’t you want to be with your uncle? Or your friends?”

The small fire was burning bright and the flames licked around the chunk of wood. You stood up, satisfied with your work.

Eddie hadn’t answered, so you walked back to him.

“Think I should get out now,” he said when you appeared. “S’cold,”

“Yeah. Okay. Here.”

Like he had before, Eddie winced as he moved. He stood and helped you wrap a towel around his waist. You draped another over his head. With his fingers threaded through yours, you guided him out of the bath and back onto the couch.

“I’ll do the bandages before you get dressed,” you told him, going to retrieve what you needed.

Before you sat back down, you ruffled his hair in the towel, making sure it was dry enough not to drip everywhere. Taking parts of his hair in the towel and scrunching them, you worked like you’d done it all before.

Next, you coated cotton balls in antiseptic balm and dabbed at each of the wounds, and checked all the stitches. The bites had stopped freely bleeding, with only dots of red and some evidence of gooey serosanguinous drainage. After each was disinfected, you blew gently on the raw skin to cool it down. Goosebumps iced their way across Eddie’s body.

When the fresh bandages were applied, Eddie leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes.

“How do you feel?” you asked.

His immediate reaction was to be sarcastic. It was a defense mechanism, but Eddie reminded himself he didn’t need to defend against anything when he was with you. “Not… good… but, ah, a lot better than before,”

“I’ll take that… I’ll get some clean clothes.”

Eddie pulled on clean boxer shorts and sweatpants while you binned all the old bandages left in the bathroom. Once everything was clean, you returned to the couch. You helped him pull a t-shirt over his head, then sank down next to each other.

The soundscape consisted of the fire and the odd bird call coming from the woods outside. It was late, maybe even close to midnight. Not too far away, the rest of Hawkins was still assessing the damage and counting the dead. But there, in an off-the-grid cabin, the rest of Hawkins didn’t exist.

Eddie reached over and placed his hand palm-up on your leg. You took it and held it tight. All the emotion you’d swallowed since seeing him barely alive bubbled up your throat and out of your mouth in a small sob. Eddie rolled his head to look at you, expression sad.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You choked out a laugh. “What are you sorry for?”

“I dunno. Making you worry.”

When you tried to let go of Eddie’s hand to clear your face of tears, he wouldn’t budge. You used your free hand, attempting to not let the soft crying turn into anything more.

“I was so worried.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah… I’m…” As he searched for the words that felt right, his eyes stayed glued to your face. “I’m sorry about… not calling in a while. Not returning your calls,”

“S’okay. You’ve been busy with school and-”

“Nah. Well, yeah. Yeah… But, I…” Fuck it, Eddie thought. He still felt so close to death. He was scared it was something he’d never be able to shake. What did he possibly have to lose? “I got scared. About… you know… You. Like, how I feel about you. Just seemed easier to ignore it than have to… do anything about it… When I say it out loud, it sounds so fucking stupid but… Losing you ‘cause we lost touch would hurt less than if I lost you ‘cause I ruined it by… having a dumb crush or whatever.”

Dumb crush.

A portal between your world and another? Yeah, sure. A girl with superpowers? Yep. Demogorgons and secret armies and lifesaving songs and everything else that had been handed to you that day? Uh-huh, okay. Eddie having a crush on you? Liking you like you liked him? Well, that sounded impossible.

 Unless… it didn’t. Unless it made total sense. Unless it explained so much. Unless it was one small thing the world could give you and Eddie to help balance the scales.

With those big brown eyes, Eddie was finally able to look at you with all the love he had. Warmth spread across his body and he took one step towards peace.

“It…” You shook your head. “It wouldn’t have ruined anything,”

“No?”

“No… ‘Cause…” Poetic was the aim, but exhaustion had steeped your brain in stupid juice. “I’ve got a dumb crush on you too.”

Eddie smiled, soft and kind, only a hint of mischief. “Cool,”

“Cool,”

“So, how much time have we wasted? Being dumb?” he asked.

“Um… Years, probably,”

“Well, fuck.”

You laughed together and sat watching the fire for a long time.

Eddie told you about how he was afraid to be in Hawkins. He was afraid that Wayne’s mates would treat him like the uncle of a killer. Afraid his friends would be hurt, like Gareth had been. Afraid that it wasn’t really, truly over.

You listened, letting him speak and not undermining the feelings with logic or counterarguments. When he was done, you said you understood.

“Can you stay? In Hawkins, I mean. When do you have to go back?” Eddie asked.

“Never, if I don’t want to. Mom and dad want me out. And, it’s not like I’m working a dream job. I could stay… If you wanted me to. To help. Or not. It’s, like… Totally fine-”

“Yes. Stay.”

Another step towards peace.

Maybe, in an unfair and cruel world, where Chrissy Cunningham was dead and you and Eddie had lived miles apart and the drive to Hawkins was long and solitary pain was all Eddie thought he deserved, maybe this – this mutual love, was what you got to make up for it. It wasn’t enough. Of course, it wasn’t. Chrissy and Fred and Patrick deserved to be alive. Steve shouldn’t have had to feel phantom vines around his neck for the rest of his life. Dustin was owed a childhood. Eddie should never have been witch hunted. But, if it had to be like that, then yeah… Maybe you could be Eddie’s girlfriend.

After creating a nest of pillows and blankets in front of the fire, you and Eddie laid down and curled your bodies around each other. He kissed you on the temple, and you listened to his steady heartbeat. For a few perfect hours, everything else faded away while you slept soundly in an ex-cop’s secret little cabin in the woods.  

End Note: I hope you liked this little fix-it fic. Please, let me know what you think! Reblogs are especially appreciated.

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24 @mel-the-fangirl

#Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fanfic #Eddie Munson Fanfiction #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x Reader

[starculler]

strap in for this week's fic flavor: the failsafe episode of season one of the young justice cartoon except the simulation just won't. fuckin. end.

(fics that inspired this at the end)

If I ever did sit down to make my own fic, I'd split it in 3 parts:

The Simulation: bits and pieces of the 40 years Dick lives after most everyone he knows has died

The Return: the immediate aftermath and healing from the trauma of having not-quite-actually lived a whole life only to wake up and find out it was all fake. nothing traumatizing about that whatsoever.

The Unintended Consequence: aka the twist I'd love to add and would hint to in the second part - finding out the simulation, through martian mind fuckery, pulled from the real world (and in many cases, from real minds). Dick meets a bunch of people he didn't think were real outside the confines of his simulated life. A bunch of rowdy, heroism-inclined teens across the years get to meet the sibling/friend/mentor figure they all dreamed up one night.

(actual idea snippets under the cut)

.

Dick Grayson is 14 and most of the world's heroes have died. He planned a suicide mission that left him the sole survivor of a doomed team he helped found. The invasion may have been stopped, but is this really the price he wanted to pay?

The first face he sees in the infirmary is Roy's, and he has to close his eyes and just breathe for a few minutes because for one painful moment he'd thought it was Wally. But this isn't the world where his best friend miraculously survived alongside him. This is the one where he got his best friend killed and didn't even give him the courtesy of following behind him. Behind them.

.

Dick Grayson is 27 and has lived longer without Bruce than with him. The invasion's anniversary is always a tough day for him, but that morning seems especially harrowing. He'll get shit for it later, but can't resist stepping out onto the balcony of the manor's master bedroom (Bruce's old bedroom) for a smoke -- his first since he'd promised to quit if Jason, just 15 then, did too.

"Bad habits tend to pile up," he'd said, a rueful quirk to his tired grin. He'd tapped the cigarette twice on the railing and added, lower, "and this one's especially nasty, huh."

He inhales, watches the sun creep across the horizon, and lets acrid smoke burn through his lungs for a long moment before blowing it out in a small cloud. His eyes water, but he doesn't cough. It tastes just as bad as it did the first time he smoked one, not even a year after the invasion and treading water as Robin proved insufficient.

There hadn't been enough heroes to go around then, and Dick had been trained by one of the best. It hadn't been fair, but it had been his plan that had ultimately stopped the invasion. His shoulders everyone's expectations fell on.

He takes another drag, then smudges the lit end against the rail he's leaned on when he hears a boot scuff purposefully against the roofing above him.

"Todd and Pennyworth will be upset with you."

He doesn't turn around. Damian doesn't jump down to join him.

.

Dick Grayson is 54 and wakes up in a room full of ghosts. He hears his long-dead father-figure tell his long-dead team about a simulation they weren't meant to win. A training exercise gone wrong and only half a day spent under their mentors' careful, if slightly panicked, supervision.

He looks at his hands, watching the way his gloves crease when he flexes them in and out of tight fists. He looks at his team, their eyes a little haunted but shoulders slumped with relief even as they grumble. Batman's heavy, gloved hand settles on his shoulder and the weight of it is a nauseating mix of foreign-familiar.

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

Tears prick his eyes behind his domino mask, and he tells himself the suffocating, acidic void building in his chest is just some leftover side effect of the ordeal and not the grief-guilt of outliving yet another family (no matter that they hadn't been real in the end).

.

Dick Grayson is 16-going-on-56 and well used to the coincidences piling up between his simulated life and the real thing. Some of it -- missions and villains he remembers cropping up -- he's marked for Bruce to review and sort as he pleases. Some -- security for the cave, team building anecdotes, and training regimens -- he's shared with the team. And some he keeps only for himself.

Tim is one of those. He knows it's not fair to the kid (so much smaller now than he ever was when Dick lived his simulated life), but he can't help being selfish just for this. Tim is the one kid he's sure he didn't make up, and if Dick's taken to babysitting the kid just to be near at least one member of the family he built for himself in the wake of the worst days of his life .... Well, anyone who says shit about it can happily stand in line to have their teeth kicked in.

Despite this, it still catches him off-guard when he sees a familiar face pop up in one of Bruce's reports.

Jason Todd, caught boosting tires off the batmobile, is nearly the same age now as he was when Dick met him. He stares at the words, but none of them really sink in beyond the kid's name and address. He's moving before he's even made the decision.

He's used to the world kicking him when he's down - lived it for 40 frustrating years. But he has Bruce again. And things with Tim have been so good. And he's always been selfish when it comes to family. If he could just see Jason. If he could just meet him. If he could talk to him.

If if if if if--

.

Inspirations:

Circles in Shattered Mirrors by InfinityIllusion

Fine (But Not Okay) by CharlotteDaBookworm

Verisimilitude by mutemelody

#young justice #young justice cartoon #batfam #batman #dick grayson #thoughts and headcanons #the heart wrenching inability to cope with the fact that you've lived a fully realized life #you've loved and lost and loved again in the face of every unending tragedy #until you've forcefully carved out this one little safe haven for yourself #only to be thrust back to the beginning of one of your greatest traumas - esp one you're partly responsible for! #gotta love it #anyway i am and always have been obsessed with dick grayson and no one can stop me #the simulation was fake but some psychic bs means real world elements filtered in #cue several children with weird dream-memories of half-lived experiences and a massive sense of deja-vu #when they wade into the superhero world #all i can picture is the spiderman pointing meme but it's the batkids at dick lol #my favorite idea is that once Dick gets his grubby hands on Jason and Tim it's all over from there #he's pulling late nights and researching and scouring facial recognition databases until he finds his kids #(he blurs the lines a lot when it comes to considering them his siblings vs kids #on the one hand they're not super far apart in age bar Damian #on the other he hasn't been a kid in any meaningful way since he was 14 and he very nearly raised half of them in some way #(plus side to an au is that i can space the ages out more as needed compared to the show haha) #jason and cass are firmly siblings close as they are to his age #steph tim and duke fluctuate depending on how in trouble or injured they are #i will die by dick being damian's dad tho lmao #babs is more platonic life partner than sibling but very firmly family regardless #this is the dick grabs on to any shred of family he can with both hands and drags them in kicking and screaming if he has to au

[lorem-ipsum-xvi]

Man, Nuka World may not have been Fallout 4’s best DLC, but can we just acknowledge how interesting Porter Gage is?

It’s very rare to engage with raiders in a meaningful way in Bethesda-era Fallout games. They end up as just another generic enemy type — no different from robots or mindless, irradiated creatures. But Gage? He’s anything but mindless. Selfish? Yeah. Ruthless? Certainly. But he’s a strategist. He knows exactly how to set up the pieces to ensure things land exactly where he needs them to. He’s got far more charisma than you’d expect from a raider, and he knows how to wield it.

Then there’s his backstory, which adds a certain level of depth you don’t expect from a raider — even if it’s in a small way. There’s something….surprisingly relatable about Gage.

Gage wasn’t an orphan like MacCready. He didn’t grow up on the streets or have a family who abused him like Cait. It doesn’t seem like he hated his parents either. But for most people, there comes a point in their late adolescence/early teens when they question if the values they were raised with still apply to the world around them. Gage’s parents didn’t teach him to be a raider with words — they did so through action (or rather, inaction). They taught him that raiders would always have the upper hand. Through this, Gage learned that passivity means suffering, weakness is a death sentence, and the only people who survive are the ones who shoot first.

And yet, despite this worldview, Gage doesn’t appear to lack a code. As he explains to the Sole Survivor, recklessness is as much a death sentence as weakness, and that modicum of self control is why he’s pulling the strings behind the Overboss and not getting mowed down by a vaultdweller in the Commonwealth like every other raider you meet. It makes me wonder if his self control is the remnants of his relatively stable upbringing.

Anyways, he may be a garbage boy stink man, but

#porter gage #fallout 4 #nuka world #fo4 #fallout 4 companions #okay yeah he’s also a hot old man w/ a nice voice & i’m very partial to those

[tremendouskoalachild]

Status of High Republic kids post-Phase I

(including main and side characters that are children, teens, or equivalent in thr books and comics. spoilers for everything published, including Tales of Light and Life and Starlight Coda, with additional spoilers for upcoming media under the cut)

(SB - Starlight Beacon, SBF - Starlight Beacon's Fall)

I. main Jedi kiddos (plus Zeen, a member of the Padawan squad)

Bell Zettifar – present on SB. survived. spent months on Eiram afterwards helping the relief efforts and searching for Burryaga. learned to fish.

Burryaga Agaburry – present during SBF, presumed dead in its aftermath. actually survived and was stranded in inaccessible part of Eiram’s ocean. eventually found and recovered by Bell. malnourished and with patchy fur.

Farzala Tarabal – helped evacuate younglings off SB. last seen unconscious after confrontation with Nameless, still on SB. presumed dead in the immediate aftermath of SBF. status unknown.

Lula Talisola – helped evacuate younglings off SB, then went after escaped prisoner Krix. last seen still on SB as it is on fire in Eiram’s atmosphere, thinking of Zeen. presumed dead in the immediate aftermath of SBF. status unknown.

Qort – present on SB. successfully evacuated with group of rescued younglings. sole confirmed survivor of the original Starhopper Padawan squad.

Ram Jomaram – on Corellia during SBF. survived battle with Nihil. all in all one of the least traumatized teens in the series despite his home being destroyed by Nihil.

Reath Silas – on Corellia during SBF. survived battle, got knighted and lost his replacement master right after. otherwise fine though.

Vernestra Rwoh – on Eiram during SBF. lost Stellan and, as far as we know, Imri and Avon. traumatized beyond belief. months post-SBF following the Force as a Wayseeker without official approval. now headed to Ibbe to recover.

Zeen Mrala – on Corellia during SBF. survived battle with Nihil. last seen thinking of Lula, determined to find her in the aftermath.

II. non-Jedi heroes

Affie Hollow - present during SBF, evacuated. helped with disaster relief on Eiram for a month afterwards. started work on rebuilding the Guild. has been seventeen for several years now.

Avon Starros - apparently presumed dead by Vernestra months after SBF. had very correct suspicions about her mom's Nihil connections the last time we saw her. status unknown.

Crash and Svi’no – maybe I’d know if Lucasfilm weren’t releasing stories exclusively in print in one region only. survived battle on Corellia and got together so yay?

Honesty Weft - ehh he's probably fine? no real reason to believe otherwise. including him for completeness tbh

Jordanna Sparkburn and Sylvestri Yarrow – probably fine since we have no reason to think they were anywhere near SB or Corellia. might have to deal with Sylvestri's mother’s horrible death by Elzar during SBF. also got together so yay. also also if we can't have art of them together why don't the backgrounds of their concept art at least match up cleanly

III. minor Jedi characters

Amadeo Azzazzo – somehow matrix dodged all the death flags. don’t know if we’ll see him again but I’m proud of him and wish there was art of him.

Bibs and Rardal – present on SB. last seen squaring off against the Nameless. strongly implied to be dead.

Gabino and Kaimo – they better be okay!! a group of younglings were successfully evacuated off SB, though we didn’t see these 2 specifically.

Imri Cantaros – apparently was present on SB. presumed dead by Vernestra months later. status unknown.

Nima and Viv’nia – present on SB for a bit but got sent away a while before SBF. presumably fine on Coruscant.

Ruu – the summary I found says he’s okay on Corellia. he also seems extremely cool and I hope I get to meet him. wish there was art.

Zint – present on SB. successfully evacuated with Qort.

IV. Nihil kids

Krix Kamerat – last seen still on SB as it is on fire in Eiram’s atmosphere, fighting Lula. status unknown.

Nan – present on SB. tried and failed to prevent its fall. evacuated in Koley Linn’s ship, returning to the Nihil.

Sabata Krill – last seen on the bridge of a crashing ship over Corellia. status unknown.

what we know from announcements of upcoming media:

Avon – confirmed for Defy the Storm so alive (which we knew anyway due to her connection to Sana’s storyline during the OT).

Imri, Jordanna – confirmed for Defy the Storm so alive. I would guess the same goes for Sylvestri but I haven’t seen any info about that.

Lula – still MIA, presumed dead one whole year after SBF. the same probably goes for Farzala but he isn’t mentioned by name.

#the high republic #the high republic spoilers #tales of light and life #tales of light and life spoilers #the high republic adventures #midnight horizon #the fallen star #bell zettifar #burryaga agaburry #lula talisola #zeen mrala #avon starros #vernestra rwoh #affie hollow #qort