#the cat could govern better
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reader, I cackled.
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Why doesn't Blossom just. leave? Idk if that sounds weird since you have talked about how the clans essentially function like a cult (although this was in reference to starclan), but if Blossom feels so completely isolated and shut off, why not just. Run away.
Blossom literally gets told 'no one cares about you, why not just disappear?", and the clan does NOTHING to say otherwise, and their silence is basically agreement. Suicide tw, to someone who is already at their lowest, or just climbing out of it at least, that line could have horrible implications- you dont matter, just fade away, no one would notice, etc. Idk if that was intended (ashfur seems like the kind of asshole who would intend it but i dont think you intended it), but. yeah its horrible.
Since im believing it wasn't intended, maybe change it? Emptycry could work (instead of 'no one cares, you're a waste of space' its 'your words are empty, be quiet'), or maybe naming her Rottedpetal- the flowers have been shredded, and now they have begun to rot instead of growing anew. Or, if you want to keep the name, Blossom snaps and decides that he's speaking the truth- so she leaves. Maybe she becomes a loner (does the lake territories even HAVE any loners that function similar to Barley, Ravenpaw, Smudge, etc???), or joins another clan (i highly doubt this since the other clan would eventually learn of 'clearface' and start calling her that again, or worse kick her out for breaking the code), OR she becomes a kittypet, completely willing to trade freedom just to be loved.
...forgive me but I feel like a lot of people are missing the point of Dishonor Titles and why and how Ashfur uses them.
Ashfur is picking the cruelest possible names he can think of exactly because he wants the people who oppose him to be broken. He is finding a character's deepest insecurity and putting it on full display, forcing the other cats in the Clan to join in on his mental abuse to set them against each other.
This serves the purpose of showing that Ashfur is even worse than Bramblestar, and that he is very perceptive of people's insecurities.
The cruelty is the point. These titles from the Impostor aren't meant to be petty, they are meant to be gutwrenching.
Why does Blossomfall not leave? Because her entire family is here. Father, siblings, three children, any friendships she's finally started working on. She had to beg to come back in on their grace and she will not get another chance. Random humans aren't an option. It hurts but she eats it, knowing her only options are to take it for the next two weeks or be exiled forever.
If she was going to leave because of the name, then that is something Bramblefake can use as well. "Codebreakers are weak cats. She couldn't handle having her disrespect thrown back at her and cared more about her pride than her Clan. A traitor twice, now a traitor thrice."
But things were just finally starting to get better for her, and she's not willing to leave her entire life behind for the exciting opportunity to... live alone in the woods. Not yet.
She becomes a rebel later, but not yet.
#better bones au#Also she is not suicidal and I never even implied this#I am not fond of how quickly people jump to 'why do they not simply leave everyone and everything behind'#And live in the woods alone??#Blasting a missile from my blaster: 'THE CODE ALLOWS ABUSIVE LEADERS TO LEVERAGE POWER AGAINST THEIR VICTIMS'#'OPPOSITION TO THE GOVERNMENT IS A MORAL NECESSITY IN TYRANNICAL TIMES'#'AUTHORITARIANS ARE BAD'#Staring at me instead: 'wow! you probably didnt intend for this to be so mean'#I'm going to start a swear jar for 'why don't they just leave'#Jessy COULD leave. She had somewhere to go#Tallstar could have too#The vast majority of the Clan cats don't#They live in a theocracy#And in the cases of Jessie and Tall there is a huge point I'm making about how hard it actually is to leave your life behind#There is something good and worth salvaging in Clan society but its structure leads to tyrants by its very design#And TBC is an arc about addressing that#Bristlefrost gets merc'd early and I did that on purpose to set the tone#That's why I kicked the thing off with something so brutal
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Hybrid AU with Ragdoll!Reader and Siberian-mix!Konig
Reader is a rescued cat hybrid that Laswell's sister in law has been taking care of for the last 3 months. When she meets this little ragdoll kitty, so bright and friendly and curious, she immediately thinks of the 141. Hybrids have a lot uses in the government. Sometimes combative, sometimes therapeutic. The 141 could use a companion animal, given the close call Soap recently had and the general trauma the whole squad has.
With the kitty's permission and cooperation, they assess her as a possible therapy placement. She tests so well and so high that Laswell (again, with consent) immediately starts paperwork to place her with the 141 before even bringing it up to Price.
He's a bit skeptical at first. Even without being a combat hybrid, their jobs are high stress, very dangerous, and not very stable. But Laswell convinces him to at least meet Ragdoll.
They do introductions at the sister-in-law's house, where the kitty will be most comfortable. Ragdoll takes one sniff of him and starts purring like a little engine. He's visibly surprised, and Laswell can barely hold back her grin as the kitty climbs into his lap. They spend the rest of the afternoon discussing arrangements while his new hybrid naps because obviously he can't say no now.
Price becomes her primary handler. They move her to his barrack and give her a week to settle in, but she's not a skittish thing by any means. Wants to follow him everywhere, curls up in his bed, meows sadly at the door when he leaves her alone. It becomes clear very quickly that the usual introduction manuals are too slow for her.
Kitty meets Kyle next. Again, instant purrs. She presses her cheek into his palms, then wriggles her way closer to brush up against his cheek. Lets out a little "mrrp!" when he stutters out a pleasantly surprised, "hello there." She nibbles at the brim of his hat and grins when he gently redirects her, chirping at this fun new friend.
Two for two, Price and Kyle decide to introduce her to Simon and Johnny. They let her explore the common room first, get comfortable, and then call the other two in. Kitty watches from behind Price as Simon and Johnny enter.
Johnny is a dog hybrid with Simon as his primary handler. Price has faith that his sergeant will behave well with the new kitty, but he's not sure of what her reaction will be. Johnny's obviously, visibly excited, tail wagging, but Simon gets him to sit and wait while she makes the first move.
It takes absolutely no time at all for her to pad out from behind Price and approach. Simon goes first, offering a hand. But she barely even sniffs him before cuddling up to him, pawing curiously at his mask. He lets her, clicking his tongue when she dislodges it a bit, but then he gently nudges her towards Johnny.
His ears are perked forwards, tail still swishing. Kitty's ears are twitching, eyes big and curious. But her tail is up and curved curiously, not even a little fluffed. She gets in real close to his face, sniffs, then bumps her forehead against his chin. Which is when he loses patience and licks a big stripe up her cheek. She mews indignantly, ears going airplane mode, but thankfully doesn't swat at him.
It literally couldn't go better. She's a perfect fit.
Over the next few months she settles in with them happily, an absolute dream of a hybrid. Not very verbal, at least through human speech, but perfectly communicative and incredibly friendly.
She chirps whenever one of the 141 enters a room, has a different tone for each of them. Purrs if one of them so much as looks at her, all slow blinks and little smiles. Chitters when she sees them running outside through the windows.
Even grooming is relatively easy. She lets them brush out her floofy tail without much fuss, only trying to retreat if they catch a tangle. Readily gives up her hands to trim her claws. Even opens her mouth for them to brush off her fangs after raw meals.
She curls up with Simon on bad days, warm and purring, breathing little puffs of air against his collarbone. Lounges with Kyle after hard missions, nuzzling against him while he pets her soft ears. She spends hours upon hours in Price's office, curled up on his lap while he does paperwork or talks over the phone, kneading biscuits into his stomach.
Her friendship with Johnny is maybe the most surprising. They play wrestle just about every night, rolling around on the rough carpets in the common room and nipping at each others ears. She'll pounce on him, little teeth flashing, but almost always get bodied by his larger stature. The others will let them play until one of them - usually Johnny - gets too excited and makes the other yelp. At that point, Price or Simon will usually scoop one of the hybrids up and tsk at them for getting rough.
She's the 141's precious kitty, sweet and friendly and outgoing. The whole base knows her, though she's never far from one of her boys. And they know what it means if Ragdoll doesn't like someone.
It's rare, which is why it raises neon red flags. The first time is a new recruit that reaches to pet her without introducing himself first. She twists around on him, but usually even that would be recoverable. Except when he keeps trying to touch her, she gets a whiff of him and hisses, scrambling away.
The guy doesn't last long.
It happens again a few weeks later with a nurse meant to be giving her checkup. She gets low to the table, tail poofing up, and growls low in her throat. When the nurse rolls her eyes and tells Price to just hold his hybrid still so they can get things over with, he knows instantly that his little ragdoll was right to react that way.
With that in mind, it's no surprise that no one trusts Philip Graves when he visits their base and she takes an instant dislike to him. He introduces himself correctly, but she still hard reverses away from him, nose scrunched up. Ears back, tail fluffing up, she slips behind Price and glares from around his arm.
Problem is, Graves is used to dog hybrids. He's great with them. Kitties... not so much, even with a manual. Ends his week at the base with a couple of proper bite marks and an itchy scratch on his hand.
Given her reaction, Simon and Johnny aren't too shocked when he betrays them in Las Almas.
When a team from KorTac is scheduled for a joint assignment, the 141 is bracing for a similar reaction. Especially because they have their own cat hybrid - some big mixed breed.
Kyle even suggests keeping Ragdoll inside for initial introductions on the tarmac, but they all know that's not actually viable. Their kitty wouldn't talk to them for the rest of the day if they left her out like that.
So Price double checks that her little bell-collar is on and brings her out to meet the KorTac team.
Their cat hybrid is even bigger than expected - no wonder he's a combat placement despite being a domestic breed. He keeps his face hidden behind a big black hood with cutouts for his ears, fluffy tail slightly tangled-looking.
Price hasn't even finished introductions with the KorTac team when she makes a rolling little chur noise, bright and curious. The bigger hybrid zeros in on her instantly, ears flicking. She pads out from behind the captain and slips away before he can catch her. Any calls for her to come back are fully ignored.
She trots right up to the Austrian and mrrps again, pausing mid-step, waiting for a response. The other hybrid doesn't respond - at least he doesn't seem to.
"Sorry, kitten, but he doesn't really do the cat noises," Declan tries to tell her. But he's also ignored, and no sooner has he spoken than she's getting into the other cat's space, continuously making little "brr" noises.
And then to everyone's shock, he's bending down to greet her in return, nuzzling her cheek and forehead through the hood. She starts to purr, pressing up close, tail swishing lazily. A noise erupts from him, deep and rough, rattling in his chest. Johnny jumps and snatches at her shirt, dragging her back to the safety of their team.
She mewls sadly, arms extended to reach for him.
"He's growling, Doll," Johnny corrects, arms curling around her middle. For the first time ever she starts to wriggle. "He's too big for you to mess with."
"I... wasn't growling," the Austrian pipes up. "I apologizes if I caused alarm."
Johnny shoots him an incredulous look.
"Then what was that?" Kyle asks, confused.
"I don't... often purr."
Price takes one look at their still-wiggly kitty and the Austrian leaning towards her, as if wanting to follow, and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Shit."
#cod#thoughts™️#my writing#reader fic#fanfiction#hybrid au#ragdoll!reader#siberian-mix!Konig#konig#konig cod#konig x reader
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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬
(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)
previous — next part ┊ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( + playlist)
Summary: You learn the identity of your new undead friend, get a mini ‘makeover’, catch your crush’s attention and bury a body while Eddie learns throwing up on the girl he’s interested in probably doesn’t display his potential as a boyfriend, but his protective nature might.
Chapter Warnings: a stinky boy, dark humor, unpleasant home life, intense longing (on eddie’s behalf). oh yeah, and murder.
a/n: so i lied, this is actually longer than the first chapter and i accepted my fate. we’re getting to the fun stuff, though. next up: more vigilante justice, eddie lore and emerging feelings for a certain dead man walking. hope you like it!
light dividers ℗ cafekitsune ♡
“C’mon, over here.” You gestured to your open doorway, watching your new zombie pal hobble up the final step and round the staircase. His movements were harsh, stiff as hell and made your bones hurt to watch for whatever reason. Every over limp was accompanied by an inhuman grunt, and you wondered if moving his limbs might actually be painful for him.
You were never particularly skilled in the art of masking your emotions, so your eyebrows were furrowed, mouth parted and upper lip tucked up to clearly display your phantom discomfort.
Once he was close enough, you crossed over the threshold, standing a little in front of your bed as he wandered in, large eyes immediately raking over everything on your walls. After beckoning him further in, you moved around the filthy corpse standing in your room to close the door.
“Despite your deadly good looks, we can’t risk anyone seeing you. No one else can know you’re here.” You informed him, trying to stress the seriousness of the situation without seeming too controlling. While you had waited for The Zombie to struggle up the stairs, you’d determined there were three possible ways this town would react to discovering a member of the dead had risen—that only seemed to be socially acceptable and celebrated in the form of Jesus Christ:
1.) Pitchforks and Torches.
2.) News, Military, and Government attention, which would no doubt mean you’d have to break him out of some lab.
3.) Pitchforks and Torches, News, Military, and Government attention, which would mean you’d have to save him from an angry mob before inevitably losing him once News stations picked the story up, causing subsequent Military and Government interference and the scientific study of your undead friend in some high tech/high defense lab, leaving you to figure out how to break into and get him out of it.
Or, he could just not leave your bedroom. A beautiful alternative.
The Zombie didn’t even pay you any attention, stumbling forward—and banging his foot against the leg of your bed frame—to take a better look at your things. He was grunting and groaning, though this time it seemed to be a little different. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself. Or maybe to you.
Zombies in film seemed to be able to voice their demands for brains. Could he? Did he have the same urge or need to eat brains? How would you even feed a zombie?
“Can you talk?” You asked, leaning back against the door, eyes on him as he had to hop in place in order to turn his body to face you, “Like, speak? With words?”
He seemed to consider your question for a moment, eyes darting to the side.
“Uuuuuuunnnggghhh.”
“So, that’s a no. Do you…do you need brains? Because I’m not sure I can get you any of those—and if you think for one second that you’re gonna eat mine, you should know I fall under fight when it comes to fight or flight responses. I’m like an alley cat, I’ll fuck you up.”
The Zombie stumbled back, rocking from side to side. It took you a moment to realize he was trying to shake his head, no.
Interesting.
“No brains?”
Again, he rocked from side to side, “Uunggh-uunghh.”
“Oh. Okay.” Your defenses dropped immediately as you played with your hair, pulling gently at a section of it, “Well, what do you eat?”
He did the choppy shoulder raise he’d done in the livingroom earlier, “Unnhh unnhh.”
Your lips curled into a small, fascinated smile. Okay, you knew he had been once alive, once a human being existing on this earth with blood pulsing through his veins—and now he was dead.
Yet, he wasn’t dead. He was dead but standing in your bedroom, amongst your girly things and not so girly things, staring at you in his grotesque form, and shrugging I dunno, like some alive person. A full blown, supernatural one-time (to your knowledge) occurrence only depicted in Sci-fi films and horrors.
Why you? What did he want with you?
You hadn’t realized you’d voiced the question until he hobbled back around to your bedroom wall, raising his left hand, and the only one he seemed to have, up to one of the tombstone etchings. His fingers were all sorts of fucked up, frozen in the most uncomfortable looking positions as a result of rigor mortis in whatever position he’d died.
“What? That? It’s just an etching I made of a tombstone.”
He craned his head around, and you tried not to be freaked out with the way his neck hadn’t turned enough with it, tapping his crooked pinky finger against the craft paper and then moved it to his chest.
Your eyes zeroed in on the etching, trying to understand what he was attempting to tell you.
It was MUN’s tombstone—no, Eddie Munson’s tombstone.
Your jaw dropped. Had to be somewhere around your feet, on the floor. Holy. Shit.
“That’s you? You’re Eddie Munson?” It was rude, but you openly pointed at him.
He didn’t grunt in response this time, rather, he began to cough and gag as he jerked his body around to get his hand in his dirty jeans.
While he did whatever it was, you took the time to take him in even further. He wore black jeans, but under his leather jacket he seemed to be wearing a discolored dress shirt that had once probably been white. You had a feeling the sneakers on his feet, while horrendously dirty, weren’t all that worn out. Dress pants were pricey, you knew that much after buying some for your father when your mother would take you to outlets and malls with her. Dress shirts were a little cheaper and new shoes were seen as a staple in big events for peoples’ lives, such as graduations, birthdays, dances, weddings and funerals.
You had a sneaking suspicion this lively carcass hadn’t been from this part of town when he was alive.
“UUUUUUNNNNGGGHHHH!” The Zombie moaned out, almost victoriously as his stiff arm stuck straight up in the air. Dangling from his curled fingers, was your mother’s pearl necklace. You’d seen it last when you’d entrusted MUN with it yesterday.
You gasped, reaching out as he lowered it into your furled palm.
With the proof in your hand and his corpse before you, you knew you were speaking to Eddie Munson. He was, without a doubt, the grave you’d been running to.
“Holy crap, you are Eddie Munson!” You gripped the pearls in your fist, eyes wide and blinking rapidly to try to make sense of it all, “You were murdered and now you’re not—I mean, you were, but you’re back from the dead, standing in my—ooh, standing pretty close actually.”
You tried not to flinch as you became aware of just how close he’d stumbled over to you. Definitely within arms-length. He didn’t exactly stink, his flesh looked much too leathery to actually smell (you weren’t about to lean in and sniff to test the theory), but the scent of wet dirt was strong and the smell of whatever he’d spat on you earlier seemed to be lingering.
Zombie Eddie was in desperate need of a shower.
“So, this is all pretty cool and bizarre—I’m a fan of both—but uhm, why are you here…? Like, in my house.”
He slouched even further into your space, this time you did flinch a little as the most muffled whimper sounded from him. Reminded you of the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz when he couldn’t speak properly because he was all rusted up.
Eddie held eye contact as he struggled to grab hold of your hand and the minute he did, dirt from his skin pressing into yours, you knew what was coming.
Because of course it would. This is something that would only happen to you.
Shakily, Eddie tried lifting your hand and your mouth puckered, brows furrowing before you sucked your lips into your mouth as you watched him prepare to kiss your hand with his filthy, dead, dried out lips that still had bits of that green goop he’d spat up around it.
You were a nice person—a relatively decent human being, but you weren’t that nice and you didn’t wanna have to go to the hospital on the off chance that you caught something from a corpse. Explaining that one would send you straight to the psych ward and probably end in some sort of abuse of a corpse charge, so you quickly pulled your hand out of his grasp, rubbing your fingers together to roll some of the dirt off of them.
“Okay, okay, I see, mhm—alright. You’re here because—when I said I wished I was with you, I didn’t mean like, I wanted to have your dead body…y’know, pressed up against mine. I meant like…in the grave. Next to you. Like buried there because I’d be dead. It was a moment of intense angst—I’m nineteen and my life is in the fucking gutter. I’m surrounded by terrible people in this town and I have the rest of my life to live out this way.
“I didn’t mean to lead you on or something, and I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to do literally anything with a corpse, other than bury it.”
The two of you stood there, just staring at each other. He still hadn’t moved out of your space and you were still kind of leaning back, away from him, so you added, “So. Just a little recap, I wanted to be dead. Did not mean I wanted to be with you. Romantically. Together. Like a couple.”
And then you felt a little guilty because that wasn’t entirely true.
“Well, not with you as a cadaver.” Because you had fantasized about the person in the grave being a source of comfort to you, “Or—or, you in general. ‘Cause…’cause I didn’t know it was you given how fucked up your shit was, and I didn’t know you when you were alive.”
God, you were messing this up. Rather than continuing your ongoing word vomit, you flashed him a tight smile.
Finally, you got a reaction out of him. He creaked back, those little whimpering sounds coming from his lips before that same nasty ass green shit from before started leaking out from behind his eyeballs.
You’d made him cry.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—I just moved here a couple of months ago and you were already dead by then! I’m sure you were a lovely person and I would have liked y—y—yo—ECH!”
You gagged, hand flying up to cover your mouth and nose as you felt the contents of your stomach start to make its way back up. While your hand was in that position, it squeezed the tip of your nose, cutting of the assault currently taking place against it.
Whatever it was Zombie Eddie was secreting instead of his tears, stunk. It was the most putrid scent you’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. Nothing could compare to it, not literal shit, not vomit, not pasta that had been left out to cook in the sun for several weeks, nothing.
You were sure one more sniff of it, and your nostril hairs would either shrink and curl up, or disintegrate.
“MOTHER OF GOD—your tears smell horrendous—I’m gonna throw u—ECH!”
You gagged again, tears flooding your sight and you hurried over to the bathroom, gesturing for him to follow behind you.
Chrissy had left her door to the bathroom open, so you skidded across the tile to shove it closed, desperate to make sure the scent didn’t reach the room and wouldn’t linger in there.
She’d drive you straight to the ER to get checked out, because nothing you could possibly shit out should ever and would ever smell that bad.
You yanked the shower curtain back from the tub, setting Chrissy’s products to the side and out of the way, “You need to bathe like two years ago, my dead guy.”
You stepped to the side, pointing into the tub with a finger as your other hand rested on your hip like you were ordering a misbehaving child in.
Eddie groaned, and you got the feeling that he was unimpressed with your theatrics. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t been dramatic about it. His stank tears had to be an actual biohazard and you didn’t want to think about the fact that very same biohazard had been projectile vomited onto your face a couple of minutes ago. You were so gonna scrub it raw.
Begrudgingly, he hobbled over to your tub and struggled over the edge until he was in—his upper half slamming into the tile wall.
You didn’t say anything about him being fully clothed, shoes and all, because everything he wore needed a good rinse off. If not, you’d have to hose his clothes down in the yard before subjecting the dryer and washer to them.
“There’s my soap.” You pointed out the pink bottle of pomegranate and berry scented shower gel, “And my shampoo and conditioner—those two are very expensive and a little goes a long way, so don’t waste any.”
You eyed him for a moment, mouth twisting in consideration, “Nevermind, it’ll take half the bottles to get your hair clean, I’ll just have to replace them a little earlier than my budget expected.”
This time, Eddie’s mouth parted rather wide as he moaned out, “UHNNNGGHH.”
He was probably telling you to fuck off already, but you were distracted by whatever insect was currently in his mouth, on his tongue.
“SPIT IT OUT!” You shrieked, and he aimed his head down, the large thing with too many legs falling right out to crawl around on your bathroom floor.
You screamed as you began to stomp around, trying to crush it beneath your remaining slipper but it kept evading it! Finally, your foot flattened it with a satisfying crunch.
The evil had been defeated. You were nearly panting, shoulders rising and falling as you calmed your breathing and another sound registered.
Eddie was croaking now, it sounded almost like the most painful gasps someone would let out on their deathbed. You stared, puzzled for a moment before it dawned on you.
“Are you laughing at me?”
He did it again, stiff body leaning completely back on the shower tiles now.
“Oh my god, you are! YOU DICK!” You slapped the side of his arm and then quickly yanked it back, frowning at the mud now caked to the back of your fingers.
“Ugh,” you tried to shake some of it off over the tub, your head shaking as well—and despite the predicament, you found the corners of your lips twitching but you refused to smile. Wouldn’t let him get that over you, “You’re gross. That better be the last living creature to come out of you, you Zombie Headbanger, take a shower.”
You didn’t give him a chance to moan, groan or croak at you again, yanking the curtains back to shield the tub and it’s undead occupant.
You rolled your eyes, almost fondly, and gathered too much toilet paper to wipe up the remnants of the bug and toss it in the trash. Should’ve been in a different corpse’s mouth if it wanted to live.
“You know how to work a shower, don’t you?” You asked aloud as you approached your bathroom counter, taking notice of the bathroom mirror as you uncapped a room spray and gave your bathroom a good burst of it. The mirror had already been replaced, looked like Laura couldn’t stand to know there was something imperfect in the house—aside from you.
You heard the tub start to run before the shower stream took over. At least he still remembered that much.
“You wanna listen to some music?” You asked over the loud stream of the shower.
“Uunngh.”
You took that as a yes and leaned over the counter to tweak the knob of the radio you and Chrissy always left on it. Immediately, a country station started playing and you quickly switched the station.
“That’s not one of mine! Chrissy listens to Country whenever she misses her ex-boyfriend, I don’t know why.”
You kept twisting the dial through various stations. When you hit a station midway through Disposable Heroes, you turned the knob again only for your companion to voice his outrage.
“UUUUUUNNNGGHHHH!!!”
“What?” You switched the station back, “You like Metallica?”
He grunted from behind the shower curtain, and the scent of your body wash began to fill the bathroom, much to your relief. You could hear him banging around in there, probably not the easiest to wash up with a bad case of rigor mortis.
“They’re alright, I liked Ride the Lightning, but Master of Puppets is good, too. Their last album was good, too, but it felt kind of different. Not the same without Burton.”
Eddie made a sound of confusion, hand with the fucked up fingers reaching out to push the curtain back so he could poke his head out.
You met his gaze through the mirror, “You don’t know?”
He just blinked, almost owlishly.
Shit. He must have died before the fall of ‘86. You’d have to ask Chrissy when exactly Eddie had died.
“The bass player, Cliff Burton? He died in ‘86. Bus accident.”
You watched as Eddie’s gaze dropped, and the groan he let out sounded remarkably sad as he ducked back behind the curtain.
Unsure of what to say to make him feel better, you let the radio play out the rest of the duration of Eddie’s shower and took diligent care in washing your face and brushing your teeth. Once he was done, smelling amazing and just like you, you’d had him shed his clothes for one of your nightgowns and dragged him back to your closet.
You knew he was quite literally stiff, but he seemed extra unenthused with his choice of ensemble, so you were going to let him choose his own.
“Alright, take your pick.” You yanked the doors of your walk-in closet (as in you could take three steps in and that's it) open and he flinched back at the amount of pink seeping out of it. When he made no move to look through his options, you selected one for him.
An even gaudier nightgown you tried to shove in his arms. And he let you, before purposely dropping it to the ground while holding eye contact.
“Well, I thought you would have looked great in it.” You mumbled as he creaked down to pick it up for you. When Eddie hobbled into the closet to hang it up, you shut the doors behind him, “Pick something else and then you can come out!”
Your closet doors didn’t lock though, so you were just banking on him assuming they did and you heard his offended zombie groaning. While you waited, listening to him no doubt bang into the walls as he struggled to dress himself, grunting and groaning, you twirled around on your desk chair.
Eventually, the closet doors parted and you gasped at the sight of him, standing there in your lavender fluffy, oversized sweater and pair of white pajama pants with hearts all over them. He couldn’t really move his face all that much, not very expressive and yet you could somehow tell he was scowling.
“You look like Grimace.” Was all you said, mind conjuring up Ronald McDonald’s purple monster friend.
The closet doors were promptly slammed shut. When he emerged once more, gone was the former ensemble. Eddie was wearing a neon green skirt, a tight off the shoulder black top, and nothing else.
You wolf whistled at his skinny, severely discolored legs.
He stuck one out, modeling it for you and you realized he was humoring you. You laughed, eyes crinkling.
“You tryna knock me dead, too?”
When he nodded, you laughed again and stood up to rummage through your dresser. You found a band tee you used as a pajama top, and some black pants that looked like they might fit him. Then you spotted a red plaid flannel you had hanging on your bedroom door, waiting to be placed in the closet.
The clothing items were shoved into his arms and you pushed him back into the closet.
When he came out (eheheheh) again, you were practically bouncing in your seat. You’d never seen Eddie alive before, had never seen him in clothes that weren’t his burial ones, and he definitely still looked as much of a Zombie as Michael Jackson had looked in the Thriller music video, but he also looked like a young adult, and very much so in his Metal element. He was stretching your baby blue socks to their limit, but they’d have to do until you could steal some from your dad. You’d scrub his shoes tomorrow, before class.
If Eddie were alive, he’d look…hot.
You smiled to yourself, still taking him in as you realized you were looking at Eddie Munson.
To show your admiration, you clapped for him, “That’ll do real well. What do you think?”
Eddie raised his forearm and you tilted your head, confused. He followed your gaze and groaned, rolling his eyes as he realized that was the arm lacking a hand. Then, he held up his other arm, painful looking thumb finger cracking and popping until he was giving you a thumbs up. You ended up tying a scarf around the wrist without a hand, just to hide the gaping wound.
With the matter of his clothing solved, you moved onto his hair, sitting on the bathroom counter while he stood in front of you as you worked on detangling with a spray bottle and a legion of hair products. It took some TLC, and ignoring the hole where his ear should’ve been, but you brought his curls back to life. You were shocked to even see he had bangs, they’d been plastered to the top of his head when he was the Swamp Thing.
They framed his eyes, looked real good on him and he seemed to enjoy the entire process, eyes slipping shut and little moans (not like that) coming from him.
“Well, I think we’ve got you back in good shape.” You put down the comb, placing your hand on his shoulders to turn him towards the mirror, “Is this Eddie Munson?”
You watched his gaze scan his reflection, before those eyes were on yours in the mirror.
“Unnnghhh.” Eddie held up his arm with the missing appendage and you nervously scratched the back of your heard.
“Well, you see, I don’t really have any extra hands on me, at the moment. Just down to these two,” You emphasized the sentence with some jazz hands to display yours, then immediately felt guilty over still having yours so you hid them behind your back.
Eddie groaned low, lifting his wrist to the side of his head, where his ear should have been and you made a displeased sound.
“Oh. Noticed that, did you?”
His eyes narrowed and even though you had no idea what Eddie had sounded like, you could still hear him in your head, Notice my fucking ear is missing? Yeah, I did.
“I don’t have any extras of those, either. If it’s a body part, I’m out of stock. But—who cares? Plenty of people live without them.”
Eddie grunted, eyes narrowing even further at you.
You winced, “Poor choice of words—the point is, no one will even notice. Because no one is going to see you.”
Eddie’s next grunt sounded disappointed and you felt even guiltier. What were you supposed to do? You’d already made him look as relatively normal as you could, there was only so many ways you could disguise a zombie who walked oddly, communicated via moan, groan and grunt, and looked like he had a medical skin condition.
You were about to try to comfort him when you heard the front door open and you gasped.
“WHAT IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN?” You heard Laura cry out, and your dad shouted your name.
“I don’t mean to sound homophobic, but back in the closet!” You shoved him out of the bathroom and in the direction of his new hiding place. He hadn’t looked very keen as you shut the closet doors on him, but he’d have to wait for now.
Your dad was probably having one hell of a heart attack, staring at the mess of the house, the broken window, fearful a similar situation as your mother’s assault had taken place with you as the victim.
“I’m alright, daddy!” You reassured as you raced down the stairs to your concerned father. He was concerned alright, but not about you.
He had Laura in one arm, who was openly distraught about the shards of her damn plates, and Chrissy, who was staring at the mess with open confusion, in the other.
“You,” Laura spat at you with venom the moment her chilling gaze locked onto your approaching figure, “What. Did. You. Do?”
Wow. You’d seen an actual Zombie—he was upstairs, in your bedroom closet—and still the most unbelievable thing to happen to you was your ‘family’’s ability to immediately blame you. You hadn’t expected Eddie’s corpse to be the first suspect in their head, still, they’d seen your house ransacked—as you tried to escape your friendly deceased headbanger—with you nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been at all concerned for your wellbeing. God, they sucked.
“Me?! I didn’t do this!”
“Then who did!?” Laura screeched back and you found yourself getting angry.
“The guy who broke in!” You shouted back and Laura immediately rolled her eyes. You could hear your dad say both of your names to calm you down, but you were growing tired of him, too. Like Eddie, he seemed to be missing parts of his body. Noticeably, his goddamn spine.
“Really? You expect us to believe that after last night? The smashing of the mirror, my precious moments figurines? Muffin, your daughter is out of control. She destroyed my house!”
“Do you ever use those creepy eyeballs stuck in your skull?” You found yourself blurting out, “Does it look like any part of my body came crashing through that window?!” You pointed aggressively in the direction of the livingroom, where glass littered the floor. It was too much for just an object to have been thrown through and your body had no cuts, nothing to show from possibly jumping through it.
“Mom, if sissy was attacked─” Chrissy tried, her her mother was having none of it.
“Attacked? Who would want to attack her? She’s invisible, taking up space!” Laura was practically hysterical as she gathered pieces of her broken dishes, “That’s why she’s acting out, can’t you see? She’s recreating the crime scene that got her so much attention and you’re all falling for it!”
The woman was crying, mascara smearing around her eyes as her angry glare was once more directed to you, and you found yourself shrinking and hurt at the accusations, “You need serious help. You’re crazy and a danger to us all!”
“I think you might be mistaking me for your psyche.” You mumbled before turning your attention to your father with pleading eyes, “Daddy, there was a home invasion! I tried to call the police, but as soon as I heard him, I ran up to hide in my room.”
“She needs help, institutional treatment.” Laura hissed into your father’s ear as as though she was the devil on his shoulder.
“Daddy…”
“Mom, sissy’s not a nut, we can’t send her to the looney bin!”
You wanted to scream. All this talk about you being insane, and there was a literal walking corpse upstairs who could disprove that. You just weren’t willing to sacrifice Eddie for yourself.
“Dad, I’m not crazy. Okay? Last night was just a mirror, and tonight someone broke in. There’s a huge difference between the two, I’m not crazy.” You tried to reason, desperate to not get shipped off to some mental ward.
Your dad appeared sympathetic, “No one is calling you crazy, sweetheart.”
”I did.” Laura guffawed at your father siding with you.
“She did, I heard her.” Chrissy confirmed, frowning at her mother.
“No, Chris. Your mother’s just upset, she’d never say something like that and mean it.” You watched with disgust as he pulled Laura into his arms. It was more than you could stomach so you stormed out of the dining room, making a retreat for your room.
You were on your own. Your father had just proved that. Laura could say anything to you, treat you like crap, starve you and he wouldn’t ever step in, just continue being his wishy washy self. If it had been him and not your mother that night, you wouldn’t be suffering like this.
You’d have a loving parent.
You quietly shut your bedroom door once you made it in, leaning your forehead against it as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. Emotions were something you tried to embrace, but crying because of your family felt…wrong. Like something you shouldn’t have to do.
Wiping your face, you realized more tears would be coming. Tonight was meant for crying. So, you slipped into bed, tears leaking steadily down your temples to seep into your hair and pillows. You were so hurt and you wanted to sob, but you were conscious of the dead guy in your closet. What if he heard you?
With a stuttering breath, you peered over at the closet to see the doors barely open and Eddie peaking out at you.
You rolled onto your side, back facing him to hide your tear stained face and weakness as you thought about how loud you and Laura had been downstairs. He’d probably heard what she said about you.
It was one thing to be treated the way you were, it felt extra pathetic to have someone bear witness to it.
The closet doors closed quietly behind you and just as you did every night, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing sleep to come so you could be done with the day and move onto the next, just solemnly trying to make it through life.
Maybe you and Eddie had more in common than you originally thought. Maybe you were a zombie, too.
When your alarm blared from your nightstand, rousing you from sleep—the only peace you ever seemed to get—you stumbled out of bed almost blindly, eyes heavily lidded with exhaustion as you yanked your closet doors open.
A garment was immediately thrown over your head, covering your face and you remembered your current house guest.
With a sigh, you yanked the clothing off your head, balled it up and threw it back at Eddie, “Dude, I have to get dressed. I have class today.”
Eddie grumbled, un-balling the little black dress and holding it up for you. It was the dress Chrissy had bought on sale and then given to you when she came to the conclusion that black washed her out and she looked much better in pastels.
“I’m not wearing that, not so much my style.” You tried to push past Eddie, but he remained planted where he stood, grunting as he held the dress out to you once more.
“Do I look like Madonna to you?” You asked, pushing the dress back towards him. Eddie groaned and threw the dress at your face again, closing the closet doors while you yanked it off your head, again.
“We’re gonna have to have a conversation about your communication skills later.” You called through the door and fiddled with the dress, “Can I get a sweater or something to go along with this?”
The closet doors were quickly opened and a new article of clothing was flung over your head before they closed. You’d just pulled the sweater off of your head when the doors opened once more and a hat was tossed at you.
“Dang—anything else?”
“Uuunggh.” Eddie moaned through the door, and you tried to pull at them but he must have been holding them shut from the otherside.
Resigned to your fate, you swapped out your pajamas for the outfit Eddie had apparently selected for you. He would navigate to the black clothing. You were unsure of it until you saw yourself in the mirror. Normally, your clothes weren't all that revealing. Form fitting—maybe, but never as attention drawing as this. You just figured you weren’t the type that could pull it off.
You were wrong.
The dress hugged your figure in the most complimentary way. It was short, stopped mid-thigh, but it didn’t look awkward or make you feel like your vagina would be on display if you bent over, thanks to the lace of the bottom hem flaring out.
For once, the girl in the mirror looked stunning. And when you did your makeup, taking your time to smoke a dark blue shadow out along your lash line and eyelids, she looked drop dead gorgeous.
You’d walked onto Campus with your head high, body rocking and a new found confidence that hadn’t quite made it’s way to the surface before. The heads turning in your direction were new and you found you kind of liked it, their gazes weren’t uninterested, scowls or looks of annoyance. They were appreciative, even from the straight girls!
“Okay, am I seeing things or does your sister look drop dead gorgeous?” Tina asked, as Chrissy and her friends stood admiring you from the bench they were occupying.
“You’ve got perfect 20/20 vision. She’d be unstoppable if she kept the confidence. Could probably even win pageants. Do you think she’d join cheer?”
Eddie fiddled with one of your shoes, tugging on a shoestring in boredom. He was sat on the floor of your closet, light from your bedroom windows creeping in through the cracks of the doors.
You’d lectured him before you left for class, told him he had to stay put. Laura wouldn’t be leaving for her nurses’ conference until the afternoon, so she’d be lingering in the house and she’d have a cow if she stumbled upon him.
So you’d pointed and lectured until he was creaking and groaning his compliance.
He’d stayed in the closet while you got dressed and, after you’d made sure Chrissy had already left, watched you do your makeup in the mirror while you chatted about the classes you had to take for the day.
Eddie had listened, to the best of his ability with one ear, and stared at your reflection as the heavy sense of longing settled on his chest, crushing the heart that no longer beat but desperately wished to. For you.
Death was not like he’d ever expected. No heaven, no hell. He was just…dead. Maybe it’d been the way he died. Perhaps, the suddenness of it, his lack of peace in life while living, or the fact that he was murdered, was the reason he saw neither heaven nor hell. He’d just been in a dark place. Literally, no source of light, no out of body experience, just darkness. For a while, it was tolerable, he’d heard Wayne’s voice comforting him. Telling him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. Then, nothing.
Nothing for so long. Quiet. Silence, not at all a peaceful kind. He no longer existed in life and yet the silence was still somehow smothering.
Until one day, he wasn’t alone anymore.
You found him.
Talked to him all the time, laid with him, kept him company and said such wonderful things. Eddie had no idea how much he’d appreciate hearing about current news events as a dead guy.
And while you kept him from feeling lonely, there was always a sadness to your presence. Broke his heart when you told him out of place you felt because he just wanted to claw his way out of his grave and tell you that no, you weren’t odd, you weren’t weird, you weren’t out of place. You were unique. You were the type of person he would have admired if he had been alive, different but not desperate to fit in. Just longed to be accepted.
He understood the sentiment all too well.
Eddie understood you. And you had no idea who he was, had voiced as much to him, couldn’t come up with his identity because some fuckers had defaced his tombstone—of course they would—and yet, you knew exactly who Eddie was. Knew him to his very core.
When you visited him, Eddie felt warm. He had no idea he could even feel things, other than the constant loneliness that had plagued him after Wayne’s presence disappeared, and before you.
With you, it felt like you were right there with him, beside him. A warmth, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for some much needed comforting. How ironic that he finally found someone who could finally see him, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he was dead.
And when you had come to Eddie that fateful night, the sadness he always noticed about you was heavier. A new despair attached, one that had him desperate to get to you, comfort you as you’d done for him.
I wish I was with you.
You’d said it. Had said what Eddie had wanted to hear you say for so long, even before he was dead. Before he knew you. It had always been you he was waiting for. He was beginning to understand the universe was bigger than anything he could have imagined (and yeah, maybe universal studios was the first thing that came to mind when he was alive), was positive the heartache he went through was necessary if it led him to you. Eddie could have done without the murder—there was no undoing that. Except, there kind of was. And it happened with a strike of lightning.
Unlike the many times he wanted to before, he’d actually been able to open his eyes, break out of his coffin and dig his way out of his own grave.
Eddie had had a major breakdown, freaking out at just about everything regarding returning from the dead after he’d broken through that final layer of thick terrain, minutely softened by some light rain from the storm. He had first tried to go home, only to find himself face to face with an unfamiliar mobile home set up on Wayne’s lot. A peek into the window revealed a couple.
No sign of his uncle.
It filled him with a sense of panic and he’d needed something—someone to stabilize him, keep him grounded.
Eddie was sure he was tied to you. Not only because of the unique bond you shared, he also felt a pull to you. Just some intense instinct.
He knew where to go after.
Your welcome hadn’t exactly been as warm as the grave hangouts—he didn’t blame you, his vocal chords were useless to him for the time being, meaning he couldn’t explain himself as you shrieked and flung dishes at him (and he was impressed) and fled from him. He could make sounds, so Eddie suspected he had the ability to talk, just lacked the healthy cords due to years of non-use to them, what with him being dead and all.
Eddie’s case was definitely not helped when he’d broken your fall—he was freaking the fuck out about you dangling from the roof like that—and you’d pressed on him stomache when you landed on him.
He hadn’t meant to…y’know…spit all that up on you, it just happened and he immediately wanted to die right after, just roll right back into his grave, he was so fucking embarrassed.
Projectile vomited on the girl you’re tryna romance, Munson. Nice.
Then, you hadn’t been attacking him, tugging him along to your room instead where you immediately told him you were just using dark humor to cope and didn’t actually want to be with him.
Probably something you should have clarified for him before he returned from the dead to be with you, but whatever. He wasn’t mad about it. Just a little bit heartbroken. Definitely didn’t stink up your closet with a little cry sesh while you were at college. Totally didn’t smell like Cherry Bubbles (how is that a scent?) from the bathroom spray he’d had to limp out to grab in an effort to hide the scent of his rotting body tears.
Now, he was just confused. Had no idea what the hell to do. Thinking on it, it had obviously been stupid as fuck to think you’d want him when he was literally a dead body. Couldn’t exactly stroll down the street, holding his one hand without garnering a few odd looks and arrests.
So, what could he do now? Sit in the closet and think about everything. Try to remember everything about his last moments alive—and when it had him wheezing in the closet, cowering in the dark, he’d switched to thinking about his uncle. Concerned. Wondering what had happened to him. When that subject, too, began to promise a panic attack—he switched to thinking about you, and oh how he ached in a different way. You were right there, in reach for him and yet the two of you couldn’t be.
The most frustrating part is how good the two of you could be for each other, and Eddie literally couldn’t talk you into giving it a chance, couldn’t even flirt with you.
He had some mad rizz when given the opportunity, a body that wasn’t stiff as hell and a fucking voice. Eddie knew he’d be able to get you all shy and cute, similar to how you were when you talked about what you thought he was like back at the cemetery.
FUCK. What the hell? Life wasn’t fair to him, death wasn’t fair to him, now life as some zombie wasn’t gonna be fair to him?
What kind of fucked up existance was this?!
All because of some stupid fucking lightning that—
Lightning. Eddie perked up, theories racing through him. If it had brought him back from the dead, maybe it could do more. Before he could think on it further, he heard your door open and froze.
It was too soon for you to be home. You said you’d be back in the afternoon, after Laura had left.
Eddie heard a scoff.
“How has it gotten even worse in here?” Laura mumbled to herself.
Eddie scowled, as he heard her footsteps enter your room, could hear her padding around.
The fuck was she doing in here?
It was a risk, Eddie pushed the closet door open, just enough to give him a crack to peep through.
Your stepmom was in some sort of jazzercise outfit—ugh, of course she did jazzercise. The blonde woman was currently rummaging through your drawers, looking amongst your belongings.
She was invading your privacy.
If Eddie had blood flowing through his veins, it would have been boiling.
He’d heard what she said last night, how she berated you. Accusing you of using your mother’s murder to seek attention.
And the other members of your family weren’t speaking up nearly enough to defend you. He was surprised that Chrissy—small town for Cunningham to be the Chrissy you’d been telling him about—even tried to defend you but she should have been putting her mother in her place. She hadn’t come up to check on you, either.
Eddie had a few things he wished he could say to Laura Cunningham, tell her exactly where she could shove her stupid figurines and verbal abuse.
If she was searching for something, Laura didn’t find it. She slammed one of your drawers shut, eyed your sketches pinned to your wall with disgust before speed walking out of your room. When she passed the closet, Eddie took notice of the headphones over her ears, could hear whatever she was listening to, Walkman probably set to the loudest volume.
Eddie’s mouth chipped up into a smirk that kind of hurt his face. He opened the closet door fully, stumbling out to poked his head out of your bedroom doorway just in time to see your stepmom disappear down the stairs.
Eddie followed, steps loud and uneven. Laura didn’t notice his presence, too engrossed in whatever she was listening to and occupied with her own ego. Looked to be cleaning up the place before her little trip.
Laura disappeared into the kitchen, well out of view of the living room so Eddie stumbled in, eyeing the pristine setting. The place looked impeccable, spotless, antiques everywhere that Eddie just knew the old bat was dying to have people ask about so she could name drop and be as haughty as possible.
Eddie could wreck all of this in no time, and he would if he didn’t know she’d immediately blame you for it. He still felt guilty you’d been chewed out for the mess he made.
Bitch.
Eddie heard her returning, so he hid behind the wall, waiting a few moments before he peered around it and across the foyer, into the dinning room where she was seated after having fixed herself something. Laura still had the headphones on, so Eddie took that as the all clear to continue exploring.
He spotted a family portrait hung over the fireplace, a seemingly picture perfect family was displayed. A man he assumed to be your father loomed over Laura and Chrissy, one hand on each of their shoulders. Eddie barely glanced at them before you pulled all of his attention. You were stunning, light catching the highlights of your face, lips parted just enough to encourage a pout. Your hair was wild in comparison to the other women in the portrait—Eddie loved it. You looked like you belonged on an album cover for some rock band, even with the sorrow swirling around in your eyes. Your unwavering melancholic stare pinned Eddie, and he could feel himself getting protective over you again. You must have been miserable that day.
See, if he had been around, he could have easily cheered you up. Snuck over on the day in question. Laura would have hated his fucking guts—Eddie wouldn’t have minded being the boyfriend your stepmom didn’t approve of. Horsing around behind the little photo shoot set up to get you smiling, get those pretty eyes of yours twinkling before whisking you the hell out of there once they got the money shot.
He rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he turned away from the past that never was. Couldn’t have (he’d already been dead), should have (but couldn’t) and would have. In a heartbeat.
His posture worsened under the weight of his own despair, sulking with it until he spotted an acoustic guitar, tucked in the corner and resting on a stand.
“Mm?” Eddie tilted his head in curiosity before making his way over. It was difficult to do, but he managed to settle the neck of it in the crook of the arm lacking a hand, and strummed with his stiff fingers, pleased to find that it was already tuned.
He plucked a couple more chords, stopping once to adjust a peg. Then the doorbell rang and Eddie’s eyes widened. He fumbled to place the guitar back on its stand and plaster himself against the wall as Laura got up to answer it, having apparently been able to hear it ring but not his guitar playing.
“Yes?” Laura asked as she opened the door, impatience soaking through her tone.
“Carpet cleaning.” A man’s voice stated, sounding bored beyond measure.
“Carpet Cleaning? My carpet is so clean you can lick the fibers.” God, was your stepmom ever not insufferable? The carpet cleaner salesman seemed to be thinking the same thing and Eddie figured he had to be annoyed with his work day already to say what he did next.
“I doubt the one downstairs is.” The salesman snorted and Eddie would have snickered if he could as he heard Laura let out an affronted and embarrassed gasp.
“EXCUSE ME?!”
The guy must have turned tail because Laura was stepping out after him, yelling as she closed the front door behind her.
Eddie eyed the bowl she’d been eating from, curiosity getting the better of him as he stumbled over to inspect it. Spaghetti.
He shouldn’t….But what was the point of being a dead corpse if he couldn’t use dead guy powers for good?
It only took a little effort, Eddie successfully gagged and heaved until a warm that had been lurking in his stomach came out, dropping out of his mouth to wiggle around in Laura’s lunch. Eddie watched as it disappeared between the noodles and sauce, satisfaction filling him.
Served the hag right.
With justice served, Eddie made his way back upstairs to your room. He’d just made it to your doorway when he heard Laura return. He waited a few more moments for her to sit down, settle herself, twirl some spaghetti around her fork and put it in her mouth.
Eddie was beginning to think the worm had made its way to the very bottom of the bowl when Laura let out a high pitched scream.
That one was for you.
Eddie smirked and walked back into your room, quietly closing the door behind him.
You had two classes for the day, back to back so as to not have to stay on campus longer than necessary, and both classes were pleasant. There hadn’t been any change in the materials covered or anything, eyes just kept attempting to discreetly take you in, which you caught from your peripheral vision.
While you enjoyed the new attention your attire and the way you carried yourself brought you, you quickly realized it wasn’t something you needed. What you needed was to feel good about yourself and for once in your life, you did.
You were absolutely giddy, and you felt so badass somehow, was this what Chrissy and her friends felt like all the time? Maybe putting effort into your appearance wasn’t just a load of crap dispelled onto ugly people by the conventionally attractive.
Regardless, you were strutting your way to the library, eager to turn in some books, make Steve Harrington’s jaw drop, then run back home to Eddie so you could thank him profusely for not having fugly taste.
Once you made it to the library, you noticed no one was at the front desk. Steve must have been putting some books back on their shelves.
No problem, more time to prepare yourself, maybe run through some possible conversations so you wouldn’t go stupid at the sight of his gorgeous face.
Your bag hit the ground with a thud, thanks to the weight of the hardcovers within it and you bent down at the waist to rummage through it, placing one heavy hardcover book, two heavy hardcover books, three heavy hardco—
“You got the rest of the library in there, Mary Poppins?”
You snapped back up, whipping around just in time to see Steve’s gaze rise from where your ass had been unknowingly on display, to meet your eyes, his honey brown ones swirling with warmth.
Oh, god. Just play it cool.
“Just some tampons and some chips.”
Leave. Walk out. Save face.
“No chocolate for that time of the month?” He asked, leaning up against the desk, rather than going around it to handle your returns. Steve wanted to talk to you. He’d been eyeing your ass and now he was making small talk.
You were going for it.
“Craving a different kind of sweet thing right now.” You leaned in, just as he had at the tailor’s yesterday. You were laying it on thick, sure. It worked though. Steve leaned in, too, and you clocked the tick of his eyebrow. Interest. Holy shit—things were finally looking up for you.
“I’ve got some starbursts in my car,” Chrissy chirped, materializing out of thin air to stand in front of you and Steve.
You almost knocked down the books you’d stacked on the desk, cursing under your breath. “Geez, Chrissy.”
“Hi.” She grinned at you, her darling crooked teeth gleaming before she was fixing Steve with a stern look, “Sorry, I need to talk to my sister. Preferably, alone.”
“I’m not exactly gonna run to the gossip columns about anything.” He mused, exchanging an amused look with you but you couldn’t really hear anything going on around you because Steve Harrington was flashing you smiles around Chrissy, your pretty and practically perfect step-sister, and not her. You’d entered another dimension and you did not want to leave. All you could do was smile back at him, like some infatuated idiot while your fingers reached up to pick at your lower lip.
“That may be so, but I think it’s best if she hangs around a good crowd.” Somehow, Chrissy had wedged herself between you and Steve, standing protectively in front of you with her arms crossed. She was about as intimidating as a pomeranian. Still, it was endearing to have someone act like they cared about you.
“And the library is just full of Neanderthals, is that what you’re implying?” Steve leaned both elbows back on the desk, gesturing out to the few students—most meek in appearance—occupying the area.
“I was thinking more of creepy librarians, high school peakers, and former playboys.” Chrissy shot back and you nudged her, hissing out her name. The protective thing was nice, just not when she was trying to scare away the man you’d be making your boyfriend.
“Golden coming from you, of all people, your royal highness, the Queen of Hawkins High; former head cheerleader and Miss Hawkins of ‘87, but not ‘88 and I’m pretty sure Heather Holloway won again this year, so looks like we both don’t have a lot going on, do we?” Steve was smug, shooting you a wink that made your heart melt and drip down your sternum.
Steam was practically blowing out of Chrissy’s ears, “Shoo fly, don’t bother us.”
Steve rolled his eyes before they fixed on you, past Chrissy’s head, “I’ll see you later okay? Thanks for bringing your books back on time.”
You giggled, still staring at him as Chrissy began to tug you away, “Until the next time, I guess?”
Steve held your stare, smirk softening into a smile, “I’ll be waiting.”
It was easy for Chrissy to guide you out after that. You were floating. Light as a feather and high on life.
“You are the only girl I know who can survive a spiked drink and still want to have anything to do with the guy.” Chrissy sighed in exasperation as the two of you loitered by the drinking fountain, “There’s like at least four other guys here who would date you, sissy! Don’t waste your time on that one.”
Okay. Only four other guys? Ouch. “Steve didn’t spike it. Carol did.”
“And she’s always following him around like some sad little mutt. Better to just stay away.”
You scowled, mood souring. One afternoon. You couldn’t have just one afternoon where you felt good about yourself without someone bringing you down. You knew Chrissy meant well, but in that moment, she was pissing you off.
She seemed to pick up on the shift of your attitude, changing the subject, “After practice, I’m gonna go out tonight. Some of the girls want to go bowling and then have a little kick back. Cover for me?”
How very much like Chrissy to insult you in the name of protectiveness, and then ask you for a favor. She still cared more about you than your own flesh and blood, so, “I thought your mom was gonna be away for a few days in Akron.”
“She is, but daddy’s not. And he’s way too overprotective, I can’t even sneeze without him bursting into my room to ask me what’s wrong. He always wants to know where I’m going, argues with me when I try to go out late—it’s so annoying.”
All you could think about were the many times you’d said goodbye to him as you left the house at whatever hour you wanted while he mumbled a bye and read whatever magazine he was reading or watched TV.
You tried to consider it a good thing that he let you be so independent, yet something in you ached, sure he simply didn't care enough for you. Not like he did Chrissy, and he’d known you longer, all your life.
“Oh. Uhm, I think he works late today, anyway. I’ll cover if he asks, but I’m sure you’re good.”
Chrissy perked up, pulling you into a tight hug, “You are the best! I knew I was gonna love having you as a sister. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Chrissy didn’t wait for your reply, practically bouncing down the hallway and you sighed.
At least you’d have some peace and quiet, maybe you could get Eddie into better shape too, and you’d get to tell him about your day!
With your classes done, you made your way to the parking lot, where Mystery waited for you.
You slid the back door of the Volkswagen open, tossing your bag in before sliding the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat of the bus. Then you started your mantras and manifestations, gripping the key with a sweaty palm before you were sticking it into the ignition and turning it with bated breath.
She roared to life and you sagged back in your seat, bones like jelly knowing you piece of crap bus was still kicking.
It was the biggest lemon of a car you’d ever seen, carried around jugs of coolant in the back because it had to be refilled almost every time you started it.
But it was yours.
When you pulled up to the house to see Laura’s car was gone, you felt yet another weight lifted off your shoulders. You were completely free to be you. Snatching your bag from the back, you made a run for your house, quickly unlocking the door before stampeding up the stairs.
You burst into your bedroom, chest heaving to find it in normal condition and no Eddie around. Frowning, you tossed your bag on the floor, beside your bed, and made your way over to the closet, yanking the doors open.
Eddie peered up at you from his position on the floor, rocking an old feather boa of yours.
“Eddie, I told you you were free to roam once Laura left. You don’t have to stay cramped in there all day when no one is around.” You offered him a hand and helped hoist him when you took it, “You wouldn’t believe the day I had—you’ve got stellar taste, by the way.”
“Uuungh?”
You reached under your bed, snatching an old Easter basket out that you used to hide your snacks. After you settled on the bed, you patted the spot next to you, and Eddie hobbled his way over, grunting as he settled onto the cushy comforter.
“I know I was grumpy this morning. I’m sorry, you were right. The dress was a hit!” You exclaimed, ripping a bag of sour gummy worms open. The pink end was clenched between your teeth as you bit it off, bag of sweet and sour treats held out to Eddie as an offering.
Eddie reached into the bag, attempting to crook his fingers enough to hook one. You watched the leathery skin between his brows pull—if you had blinked, you would have missed it—as he struggled to free his hand from the bag, shaking it a little until you pinched the bottom firmly, allowing him to pull it out.
“Unngh.” He grunted in thanks.
As Eddie moved onto the challenge of getting the gummy worm to his mouth, you went back to telling him about your day, “I mean, god—all I did was put on a little dress and I felt kind of invincible. Not to mention Steve Harrington seemed to like it.”
Eddie froze, gummy worm hanging out of his mouth, “Mm?”
“Steve Harrington, did’ ya know him?” You asked, steamrolling right on as if you hadn’t, “Talk about winning the genetic pool—that man is so fine. We talked a little at that party I told you about, and before I did drugs, he was being so nice to me. And I didn’t look as hot as I do now, so I was hoping for a reaction out of him—BOY did I get it.”
You let out a dreamy sigh, recalling the way Steve had leaned into your straightforward flirting.
“He’s kind, funny, and sometimes he even has good book recommendations. He’s like the total package and I think he might actually like me.”
You paused your ranting to look over at Eddie. If you didn’t already know his face was stuck like that, you would have thought he was scowling.
“You got a little…” Reaching a hand up to cup his jaw, your thumb lifted the gummy worm hanging out of his mouth the rest of the way up. Eddie’s cracked lips parted, just enough for you to press the rest of it in, then he chewed slowly, face not even twitching to clue you in on his emotions.
“There.” Your hand dropped back into your lap as you perked up, “I wanna assume he’s better than the other horndogs who popped woodies just because I wore a dress and flashed some leg.”
You stuck out your leg to demonstrate, the dress slipping even further up your thigh as you held it out, smooth (mostly, she was a little prickly but no one would notice unless they were stroking it) skin on display under some fishnet stockings.
Eddie let out a pained sounding groan, which you figured meant he was agreeing with you about the rest of the male population.
“Yeah. Well, I think everything’s gonna work out perfectly. Even if Chrissy keeps butting into my love life like some fairy chastity-mother. God—I just, I’ve never been close to actually having something I wanted before, you know?”
Eddie whined from behind closed lips, holding up the wrist that lacked his hand.
“What?” You asked, glancing down at the scarf wrapped around it. Eddie reached up with his fucked up fingers to point at where his ear should have been and it clicked for you, “Eddie, I can’t pull an extra hand and ear outta my ass. I wish I could, but I don’t have spare human parts lying around like pieces of a vacuum.”
Eddie whined again and this time you could actually see his lips pulling down, frowning.
“I told you I wish I could, but I can’t! I don't know how to get people parts and I don’t exactly have the black market on speed dial. Besides—you’re fine like this, I mean what are you able to do as walking dead guy anyways?”
“MUUUUNGGGHHHH!” Eddie groaned, loud and obviously upset as he dramatically flung himself back on the bed hard enough to shake it.
“Hey!” You snapped, fearful for your bed frame, “Chill out dude—don’t act all coked out!”
He turned his head, face miserable but before you could continue your scolding, you heard your name called upstairs.
Laura.
“SHIT, hide!” Eddie stumbled up and barely even had the chance to turn around before you shoved him into your closet, shutting the doors.
You’d barely stepped away when Laura burst into your room. She was dressed in her nurse uniform, complete with the stupid hat, yet there was something off with her. Her skin had a grayish tint to it, she looked clammy, eyes and nostrils red with irritation and her mascara was running. Laura Cunningham looked just as terrible on the outside as she was inside.
And for once, she scared you.
“Laura! I thought you were headed out of town for your trip.” Laura’s stare was even colder than you’d ever seen it, unnaturally icy blue eyes both vacant and filled with a deranged sort of rage. You expected her pupils to turn into slits any second, it would be the last physical trait she’d need to resemble a demon.
Stepmother from hell, indeed.
“Mmm, I’m sure you were looking forward to that,” Her voice was soft, almost gentle and nothing about it was kind. It was as if to coax you forward to her, lull you into a sense of ease before striking. You were reminded of the anglerfish, and the glow of their fin ray. They used it to draw unsuspecting prey towards the light before they were devoured.
You took a small step back. She took one forward.
“I suppose I’ll just have to attend next year, I’ll be skipping the conference this year. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do much learning or networking with my head plastered in a toilet bowl. I seem to have come down with something. Do you know what my symptoms are?” She asked, voice so sugary sweet and thick.
“Uhm. I-I’ve been on my period. Maybe we synced?” You hated how small your voice sounded.
Laura’s lips pressed into a thin, cruel smile, “No. I haven’t been throwing up with a cramping stomach because of my period. I’ve been vomiting non-stop because a little slut under my roof is trying to kill me. And do you know who that psychotic little tramp is?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, mouth parting in shock. Did your stepmother just call you a slut?
“ANSWER ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!” She bellowed, making you jump and gasp. You’d never heard Laura raise her voice like that, it dropped several octaves and she was staring at you with nothing but pure hatred burning in her eyes.
All you could do was shake your head. You were terrified, but you weren’t about to play her game. You were neither a slut nor a tramp and it was clear, regardless of what you’d say or do, she’d be unleashing her wrath upon you.
Laura chuckled without humor, “You really are just a stupid, insignificant bitch, aren’t you? I open up my home to you and you do nothing but cause trouble every time I so much as turn my head. I have been nothing but kind to you, even after you wrecked my home. I’ve been an angel. But putting worms in my food?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I didn’t touch your food, I just got home from classes. An—And I didn’t ask for any of this, I didn’t ask to move here.” You could see tears beginning to blur your vision, welling up and threatening to cascade over your lower lashes. They didn’t. You refused to cry in front of her. Refused to give her that satisfaction.
“Oh, please.” Laura scoffed, looking at you in bewilderment, “Did you want to stay in the house where your mother was sliced and diced? Was that a comfort for you?”
“You know that’s not what I meant, I didn't want to start my life over in some town full of ignorant people.” You gritted out, hand clenching the bag of gummy worms.
“Ignorant people, and yet—you still don’t fit it in. Telling isn’t it?”
Despite your fear, you felt your own rage starting to build within you and before you could stop yourself, you spat out “What do you care? You never wanted me here. You just wanted my dad here in your clutches and you knew that wouldn’t happen if we hadn’t moved. He would have never chosen you over my mom.”
Laura sneered, “It’s not much of a choice when she’s rotting in some coffin, six feet under, is it? I’m sure she’s relieved to be done with you and all the disgusting things you do for attention.”
“Shut up!” You demanded, seething now as the devil incarnate dared to speak about your mother in such a disrespectful manner. Laura was only able to sleep in a bed alongside your father—wear that tacky ring on her finger because your mother had tragically lost her life.
Laura wouldn’t be but a mosquito in the room if your mother were alive.
You hadn’t been expecting the strike that came next, hadn’t been prepared for Laura to pull her arm back and swing it forward, cracking your cheek so hard you almost spun. You yelped, hand reaching up to press against the skin of your cheek, feeling it throb and sting under your touch.
She fucking hit you. You gaped at her in disbelief and Laura didn’t look remotely apologetic.
“I am beyond tired of you and I am not going to wait until some maniac guts me to be rid of you. Especially when you’re already a threat to my life. No. I won’t stand for it, so I took it upon myself to begin your admittance to Hawkins National Psychiatric Center.
Your blood ran cold as images of the unsettling ‘center’ flooded your mind. You’d heard of it before, horror stories told amongst your peers. A psych ward. And Laura Cunningham was going to have you committed.
“No, please. No.” You whispered, voice laced with fear.
“It’s for the good of everyone,” Laura began, leering over you. “You don’t belong here. Your place is locked up, solitary confinement where no one will have to see you ever aga—
THUNK.
Laura let out the smallest of gasps.
You watched the unsettling blue of her eyes give away to whites and red veins as they rolled to the back of her head, her body going limp as she tipped forward and fell face first to the ground. Your mouth dropped open as you watched her collapse, gurgling and twitching on the ground for just a few seconds before she went still. Then your gaze flitted to Eddie, who stood tall with your old sewing machine clutched in his hand, a corner stained red.
Your eyes flashed back down to Laura, and they widened in size when the pink of your carpet began to turn a bright red, blood seeping out of her skull to pool around her head and soak into the floor.
Eddie made a grunt that sounded more so like a noise of satisfaction and tossed the sewing machine back into the closet.
You heard them before you saw them. Eddie had found the small pair of scissors included with your sewing machine and clipped them in the air before he bent down. You could only watch, stunned silent and with morbid curiosity as Eddie snipped your stepmother’s ear off.
“Oh, god…” You finally found your voice, eyes darting anywhere else to avoid seeing the skin severed. You breathing became labored, chest rising and falling rapidly as you staved off a panic attack while your undead friend cut the ear from Laura’s dead body.
Eddie held it up in triumph, like it was some sort of medal rather than a human ear.
“Wha─? Why─?” You couldn’t even finish a sentence and Eddie must have noticed how distraught you were. He rose from the floor, stepping over Laura’s body to pull you into his arms and despite what had just occurred, you returned the embrace; arm slipping under his to clutch at the back of his shoulder, desperate for the comfort he was offering. His hand rubbed circles over your back and you leaned your cheek against Eddie’s shoulder, stare never once leaving Laura’s body as you whimpered.
When he pulled back—just enough to be able to look at your face—he held the ear up, towards you.
You knew exactly what he was asking you to do.
”Eddie…I—I can’t. I can’t do that…We have to bury the body first.” You placed a hand on his chest, leaning into him again as you both turned your heads to stare at someone who was no longer a problem for you. For the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe.
Eddie had rescued you.
Moving the body was surprisingly easy. You’d expected Eddie’s limbs to be fragile for some reason, a foolish thought considering he’d so easily crashed through your window that first night. Eddie actually possessed a great deal of strength, easily lifting Laura’s body—wrapped in sheets—and carrying her downstairs.
Movement seemed to be getting easier for him, limbs that had been out of use for years returning to life and unstiffening just as he had. If his arms could support Laura’s body with no problem, you wondered what had happened to his missing hand in the first place.
You made sure the coast was clear before you pulled your bus up the driveway and Eddie placed the body in the back. It obviously hadn’t been strapped down, so while you drove to the cemetery, Laura’s body was rolling around, banging against the sides of the Volkswagen. Eddie just turned up the music you’d been playing.
The cemetery was vacant, thanks to the relatively early time of the day. Most people still hadn’t gotten off of work yet, which made this easy for you and Eddie. It wasn’t the most respectful thing to do—you were just out of options. A grave had already been dug out, for some poor recently deceased soul (not Laura, she could go to hell), so, the two of you had quite literally dumped Laura’s body into the empty hole and covered her with a layer of dirt so she’d go unnoticed when they’d lower the coffin, of whoever’s grave this was, into it.
After the deed was done, the two of you stood side-by-side, staring into it.
“Is death comforting?” You asked, breaking the silence. Eddie didn’t answer, didn’t even grunt, so you turned your head to the side to find him already staring at you.
He shook his head.
“Good. C’mon.” You gave the burial plot, now and forever housing Laura, an extremely and aggressively disrespectful finger, and tugged Eddie back to the bus. He went willingly after kicking some more dirt into it.
When the two of you returned home—after you briefly stopped for ice cream while Eddie waited in the bus—you’d gotten straight to work; Eddie’s head in your lap as you sewed the ear into place.
While you threaded the needle through the skin, Eddie waited patiently, thumb playing with your fishnets. Once you knotted the string and used your teeth to nip off the excess, you admired your work.
Good stitching, secure and it wouldn’t fall off. The coloring was a bit odd, skin appearing obviously more lively than Eddie’s dull gray-green tint. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Done.” You announced, hands resting on the mattress at your sides. Slowly, Eddie rose to a sitting position, head shifting around to face you, “What’s the survey say? Ear any good? Hear anything?”
Those big, deep brown, baby cow eyes of his looked despondent as he shook his head.
“Mm-mm.”
You sighed, feeling a bit despondent yourself. He’d saved you from a life of medicated compliance and padded walls, and you couldn’t even get the human ear you’d stitched to the side of his head to work. You felt guilty knowing you couldn’t make him whole again, as he so desperately wanted to be. Couldn’t be his blue fairy.
You reached your fingers up, tips brushing alongside the soft outer edge of his ear. How funny that an appendage that had once belonged to the nastiest person you’d ever encountered, a woman who hated your very existence, was now endearing because it was a part of the guy before you. Your friend. Your protector. What had taken place that afternoon would no doubt lead to trouble, but you knew Eddie hadn’t acted out of malice.
He’d simply wanted to help you. And—okay, yes, he got an ear out of it, but it didn’t work. What mattered is that you weren’t alone anymore. You had someone that actually cared about you. Enough to kill for you, even.
It felt…like you mattered to someone.
“I’m sorry.” You mumbled in disappointment, “I really did think it was gonna work, too. Guess Laura’s still useless, even when she’s dead.”
Your hand dropped back into your lap as the two of you simultaneously heaved out sighs.
“At least you have something there, you know?” You tried to see the positive side, keep Eddie happy, “Like nipples with boob jobs. The dial doesn’t work but you can still turn the knob.”
He made a humming sound, contemplating the analogy, weighing it as his head tilted this way and that way.
“Maybe it’ll catch up with you later, like the rest of your body. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting better at moving around.” You teased, nudging your shoulder playfully against his.
Eddie stiffened and you thought you might have offended him, “I mean—I’m not paying super duper close attention or anything, I just like to watch you—It’s not like I see a living dead guy every day.”
“Unngh.” Eddie seemed to pay no attention to your word vomiting, pointing at a sharpie on your nightstand.
“What? This?” You reached over and snagged it, offering it to him. He carefully took it from your hands, his hardened fingers brushing over your soft ones, and awkwardly popped the cap off with his thumb.
Your eyebrows shot up as Eddie began doodling on the skin of your hand near your thumb and index finger.
“Why did I think you were illiterate?” You mused aloud and Eddie briefly stopped to glare at you and grunted, unamused, “You can’t blame me, you could have picked up a pen and paper this entire time, hell—I have an Etch A Sketch you could have been using instead of making me decipher your ‘uuunnngghhss’.” You did your best impression of his zombie grunting and he put the sharpie between his thighs so he could flick the cap at you.
Like an expert dodger, you lifted your hand just in time for it to bounce off your palm as you giggled and he went back to finishing up his little doodle.
A lightning bolt.
Your lips pulled into a soft smile as you admired it, something warm pooling in your belly. It was cute and there was something very attractive to you about walking around with Eddie’s little sketch on you.
An Eddie Was Here, if you will.
And then it hit you. Lightning.
“OH.”
Eddie grunted, pleased that you’d picked up on what he was trying to convey.
“But how are we gonna…” You trailed off, brows furrowing as a montage of the two of you played in your head; sticking a metal rod in the ground with Eddie holding onto it as you waited for some approaching storm to electrocute him. The only problem was the weather forecast for the week predicted nothing but sunshine and clear, starry nights. No electrocution for the week. Unless…. “Oh my god.”
You turned to Eddie, grinning almost maniacally, “I’m a genius.”
Forty minutes later, you found yourself staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror Chrissy had set up inside the tan shack. It was softly aglow with pink and warm hued fairy lights, and neon blue coming from the tanning bed. One of her beauty pageant crowns was placed on your head, and you had to admit, it did make you feel pretty. It looked good on you, too. Huh. Maybe you should have done pageants, could have won one, even.
Sparks flew from the tanning bed, some feet away, with Eddie inside of it.
It was the next best thing to actually being struck by lightning. Well, it was either the tanning bed or electrocuting him in the small pool with a plugged in radio, but you didn’t want to get wet.
You grabbed a little fairy wand, no doubt part of one of Chrissy’s pageant costumes—probably Galinda—and posed with it, pleased with your reflection. Your hair was frizzy and it somehow added to your allure.
You could rock with this confidence thing for a while if it made you not hate yourself like usual.
The tanning bed’s buzzing whirled down until it was silent, save for a few random sparks, and the bed opened up, top lifting to reveal Eddie laying in a cloud of smoke, wearing those little goggles you’d insisted on to protect those pretty eyes of his.
You got up to check on him, tapping his chest with the end of the wand, “You baked enough?”
He groaned as he sat up and dinged his head on the top of the tanning bed and you flinched, dropping the wand.
“Ooh, yeah, I’ve been there too.”
Grabbing onto his hand, you helped pull him out of the tanning bed to sit on the edge and sat beside him, pushing the goggles up his large forehead and pinning away his bangs.
Eddie didn’t say anything, just blinked sluggishly. He was baked alright, that voltage was no joke.
“Eddie,” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Can you hear me in there?”
No reaction.
“EDDIE MUNSON, CAN YOU HEAR ANYTHING I AM SAYING?!”
To your amazement, Eddie flinched away from your shrieking, and with his face turned to you, you noticed he looked different, skin more…skin like. Not the leather you’d noticed before. He still hadn’t answered you, so you kept going, “IS THAT A YES—YEAH?”
Eddie groaned out, face affronted as you continued to scream at him and your shrieking turned into screams of excitement. Eddie joined you in yelling (well, he tried, it was very loud groaning) when it dawned on him.
It worked. Eddie Munsons had two working ears.
“Oh my god!” You flung yourself at him and immediately jolted away when you got shocked. Eddie reached out for you, resting his hand on your shoulder, “No, it’s okay, that was on me. I got too excited, but oh my god! Eddie! It worked! We got you a working ear!”
You were beaming, felt like you’d cracked the secret of life. And it looked like Eddie was trying to smile at you, corners of his lips pulled up just a tad.
The two of you looked ridiculous, you with your frizzy hair, crown and fairy wand, and Eddie with his electrocuted hairdo, tanning goggles making his bangs look insane and a slightly discolored (actually, it was looking more like his skin tone now, bizarre) ear, with one earring and one hand.
You glanced down at your arm; specifically, at Eddie’s arm resting against it. The one that lacked a hand.
Well, you’d already started.
“I think I know someone who can give you a hand.”
#Eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#Freak like me#lisa frankenstein#lisa frankenstein inspo#Zombie!eddie munson#dead!eddie munson#undead!eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson au#Eddie munson angst#eddie munson fanfic#Eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson#Steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x black!reader
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after rewatching nimona four times since its release (because yes, this movie is just that good), i caught a few little details that just make the whole experience so much better. so, incoming SPOILER ALERT, don’t read this if you haven’t watched the movie yet. speaking of, why the fuck haven’t you?? go watch the movie (and read the comic while you’re at it, some sites offer it for free), then come back and enjoy.
1. When the Squire gives Ballister his sword, he clearly realizes something’s wrong with it. He’s trained with it for so long that he knew that something was off just by holding it. This detail is something you wouldn’t pay much attention to when you first watch the film, but it’s there to make you realize something is a little off, especially when the Squire attempts to show him the video, but it also has plausible deniability so you could chalk it up to being something else (ie. the Squire wanting a picture with Ballister).
2. This sneaky line from this sneaky bitch.
3. Nimona tells us exactly how the movie ends. (Sorta. In a sense. The phoenix rises from the ashes and overthrows the government.)
4. You can see Nimona sneaking into the jail where Ballister is being kept.
5. Mini Ballister and Ambrosius! I think a few others have pointed this out before, but I only noticed it upon my second rewatch. (A little surprised younger Ambrosius didn’t have the Asian bob. That’s like a right of passage.)
6. Nimona’s train backstory versus her flashback.
7. During Nimona’s nightmare on the couch, she turns into a wolf, and then a cat. In her flashback, as the villagers attack her, she turns into a cat and then a wolf. It could be because having her turn into anything else would be too big for the couch, but if this is intentional, then it means Nimona was having a nightmare of that day.
8. This. Visually, the sparks are sorta similar, and in both instances, Ballister has lost something irreplaceable. I think this one might be a reach and may not be intentional, but my mind connected the two scenes and wouldn’t let go, so.
Honorable mention: the gay and trans flags above Ballister and Nimona respectively in that one scene. iykyk. I didn’t add it because 1. I think many other people have brought it up and 2. the mobile app is limiting me to 10 images. Anyway, I love this movie and its comic SO much and I’m so glad that it made it to our screens from the box of scrapped movies that could have been great if people (namely, executives) gave them a chance. There is so much love, care, and passion put into this movie, and you can really sense that this was made for its audience and its author, for its story and not only for the money it could make. This movie is metal as fuck, so GO STREAM IT!!
#nimona#nimona movie#nd stevenson#i love this movie sm this is my love letter to this movie#ballister and ambrosius r so fucking cute THIS is the queer rep i want#and nimona just.. she has my heart. my soul. I LOVE HER SM#ballister boldheart#ambrosius goldenloin#ive forced my brother my mom and five of my friends to watch this movie with me. it has been brilliant.
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The Wrong Fake Identity | Twisted Wonderland |
[you turn into a cat beastman because of crowley being an ass]
<Part 1> Part 2 part 3 Part4 part 5 part 6
<Please ignore my grammar mistake as i do not speak English as my mother language, thank you and please enjoy!>
˚*•̩̩͙��•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*
"Due to the covered overblot incidents occurring in Night Raven College, the government of each island is requesting an inspecting, but you as somebody that originated from none of these islands are unrecorded by the government. Grim is fine because he can be disguise as a familiar but you, oh, what ever shall we do." Crowley spoke, hand on his check as if he was the most miserable person in the world. The person standing infront of him, the most respected and admired student from NRC. Managing to capture hearts and admiration since the incidents with the overblots stand still.
"When will this be?"
"Tomorow morning."
The enthusiastic tone contras to the alerting news. 'Why didn't you tell me sooner you OLD CROWW!' you screeched in your head. you had been called to headmaster office as he give his revelation. You wished Grim is here with you and blasting the old crow with whatever insult that come to his mind, but he chooses to bail on you, opting to wait on the now cozy ramshackle dorm you both share.
A bit of panic did manage to etch to your mind because you don't want any of them to take you away from your friends. "What do you propose?"
"Simple, you will be locked away hidden in the cottage island you found near that ca-"
" Fuck no."
" -or you accept this envelope I had gracefully taken time to buy with my own money and try your best to act accordingly. Oh, how good of a person am I."
" Why do you even suggest the first, when you'd had gotten me a fake id?" his shenanigans starting to irk you. you could even feel a vein popping out.
" For the drama of course. then after this go to sam to get your photo taken for the id"
you sigh as you opened the envelope containing your passport and id.
" Headmage.."
"yes?"
" What the fuck is thisss?" you point of the id specifically on the species where a bold letter is etched on it.
"beastman?"
"Ah did i get the wrong one? oo.. oohohoo, my bad.. but it's too late for a chance now. Oh, look at the time, it has gotten so late! you better get to Sam now before he closes his shop. The inspection is tomorrow so good luck!" he pushed you out of his office and slam his door on your face.
' THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF THIS BITCH ! ILL PICK YOUR FEATHERS TILL YOU GO BALD OLD Crow' you grumbled as you begrudgingly make your way to Sam.
Save to say, at the end of the day you left Sam anticipating the next day chaos and you are left with the illegally obtained transforming potion and a complete id and passport. Grim is laughing nonstop at the revelation enjoying whatever torture that will come to you the day after.
Crowley had been cursed at least a hundred times in your head. you drank the potion to change you into a beastman as you fall asleep.
" i wonder what beastman you will become." Grim said as you both nuzzled up to sleep.
The morning come sooner than you wished, the lights blinding you awake.
"God dammit when did the sun get shinier"
you went to scratch your ears only to find it gone. This had made you jolt awake, bolting to the giant mirror you go, accidentally waking Grim in process.
"UWAAA!! what's the rush y/n?" Grim sleepily asked.
The mirror reflects your new figure, and you could only be one thing, and that is MORTIFIED.
you screeched in distress.
" WAAA!! what's your damage dude." Grim spoke now fully awake as he went to approach you who are crouching holding your new ears.
" i... I had become..."
" NYAHAHAHAHAHA!!! out of all beasts you have to become a cat! i can't wait till Ace and Deuce sees this!!!" His loud laugher filled the room. You don’t even know there is such thing as a cat beastman. You had thought all beastman is the undomesticated version of every animal, yet here you are in a tip pointed ears of not a wolf, not a lion but a GOD DAMN CAT. Your tail swishing in distress.
"Just you wait Grim, once you have a misfortune, I'll laugh it up your face!!" your retort went on deaf ears as he kept laughing
Poor you can only power through the embarrassment, not at all excited to meeting any of your friends. 'They're gonna have a fieldtrip about all of thisss' you cried.
a brilliant idea come to mind, you decided to just go class with a hat and tuck your tail hiding it under your jacket. wishing the day had not start but ended.
from your understanding back in your world, you know how many sickfucks is there obsessing over cat girls/boys. you hope today is different. please lord.
<*>
the bell has rung signing students to enter the classrooms, that includes you in a hat and jacket to hide the transformation. Ace and deuce spotted you as you entered the class.
" Yo! y/n! what's with the hat and jacket?" Ace greeted you as you went to your usual seat.
" aren't you hot in all of that layer?" deuce followed
" Listen, Y/n got --"
in a speed of light, you quickly grab his muzzle shutting whatever information u rather not share with this mischievous creature.
" If you don't shut up, I won't buy you the premium tuna can anymore!" you huffed.
"no fairrr!!" Grim whined
the conversation was cut short as crewel entered the building
“Right, pups, get to your seat. Today we will have an inspection authorized by the governments since there is several overblots that occurred in this past month.”
“What? Why did they just tell us now?” Ace questioned
The whole class was shocked by the revelation.
“quite pups, as your homeroom teacher I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Now –“ crewel stopped in his track as he stared at your soul.
‘Professor Crewel, please let go of my uniform misconduct, just this time.”
“y/n I believe the headmage had given you solution for this inspection, you would not need the whatever disguise you are wearing.”
“ uhm.. no this is not a disguise actually--”
“As I mentioned, there would be a inspection so I cannot oversee your uniform misconduct. Now take it of.”
You were sweating bullets. ‘FUCK!’ your head is ringing with alarm. You don’t know what to do so you just sat still. Crewel started to approach you.
“oi, what’s the big deal y/n c’mon he is getting mad!” Ace said
“They might have an allergy reaction to their head! Deuce chimed.
‘ thanks, but not helping deuce!!’ you mentally shriek as crewel is now standing Infront of you.
“ now stop with this tom-foolery, I expected better from you.” He reached for your hat.
“AH! Wait-”
Crewel had yanked the hat off showcasing your cat ear.
The silence before the collective gasp makes you want to curl up in your blanket.
“PUWHAHAHAHHAH!!! You can’t even be a legit legit beastman !! ” Ace laughter break the silence as you flush in both anger and embarrassment.
“ Pfftt, Domisticated beastman..” deuce joined in.
“ SHUT UP!!”
Crewel cleared his throat gaining an abrupt silence from the Adeuce duo, tapping his whipping stick repeatedly.
“explain..”
“ Headmage, Crowley-“
“ haaaaaa, show me the id and passport.”
You quickly took them out of your bag and place them on your desk as he inspect both of them.
“HAAAAA… unfortunately I still cannot allow you in that atrocious get up, so remove your jacket and hat” he signed loudly again, engraving in his mind to kill the old crow, after all you are always his favourite students, how could that crow torture you so relentlessly. Maybe if he get to give you the adoption paper this crow wouldn’t dare to mess with you anymore?
You sigh, relenting to your fate. Any speck of pride you have over yourself vanished. As you let your tail swish free.
Ace is trying hard not to laugh over your embarrassed red faced. But honestly both are just captivated by your new look. The way your ears twitch and your red face, the way your new feature give you a docile look. Both ace and deuce suddenly find their textbook or the corner of the room fascinating as their face are getting darker.
These reactions are of course not limited to ace and deuce but to the other students as well. Crewel watch in disdain as his precious ( soon to be) children is getting flaunted by these beasts. He mentally take note to keep you safe from there unruly teens, but priority. His number one priority now is to get Crowley in his chokehold.
<*>
“RINGGGG!!”
The bell signing for lunch ended the class, causing you another brain aneurism, because now you have to go to the packed cafeteria, with guaranteed display to everybody attending NRC.‘FUCK FUCK FUCK’
“c’mon prefect lets go get lunch!” deuce said
“I’m so hungry!! Lets go hurry before they ran out of the good stuff!”
“Easy for you to say! You don’t have a cat tail or ears…” you suck holding grim as you hesitated to walk out of the classroom.
“how bout this! I can hide you with my body!” Deuce said enthusiastically
“haaaaa, alright.. thanks” you went to cling to his back as you let grim down opting to squeeze the article on his back, using your meat shield to your fullest potential.
Deuce face burn bright with how close you are to him, ‘this is like a hug from the back!’ he squeal internally.
“r-right! Just stay close to me!” if he was given the opportunity then why not use it. He will definitely treasure this moment till the day that he passes.
“H-Hey! I can be your shield too you know!.”
“Deuce beat you to it, pal.” Grim jeered
You peek from your meat shield giving Ace a tongue out as you went back to hiding. What can a guy do when your insult is also cute. He can’t but just try to save his pride as he hides it with his teasing, just like a kindergartener.
The four of you arrives at the cafeteria as a realisation dawn on you. You needed more meat shield.
You dragged ace to line with deuce as you slid you press yourself against the wall creating and effective human wall, Ace didn’t mind being a flesh wall he just hoped he is facing you instead of the other way around.
It all went swimmingly the four of you were spotted by your other friends.
“ what the hell are you up to?” Epel asked still unaware that you are clinging to their back hiding behind them.
“Oh us? We are just here to get some lunch right? Deuce?”
“o-Oh yeahh righttt! We are hiding anything at all.”
Ace hit deuce foot as he grumbles at his idiocy and deuce to panicked to retort.
“yeahhh.. right” Epel narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“seriously guys today is the inspection day at least behave yourself while these governments representative are observing us.” Jack huff, crossing his arms disapprovingly.
“seriously! We aren’t ,making any trouble promise!” Ace the pro mischief maker he is, retorded without fail
“I double that” deuce half-shouted.
“ohh? The why did your heart rate is higher than normal?” the humanoid,Ortho joined in ganging up on acedeuce duo,
“CEASE THIS NONESENSE IMMIDEATLY, HUMANS”
“eep!” Sebek’s loud voice seems to ring harder on your ears making you let out an involuntary sound.
“ Not so loud crocodile boyy, my ears are ringing.” Grim grumbled as he hold his ears.
“ I feel you now Grim.” You mentally said.
“ AH what is that!” epel accused as he slip past the human wall you created and be greeted with you.
“no wait!” Deuce tries to save but he was too late.
You in cat ears and tail.
Your ears continuously twitching.
You have tail.
“uh hi? Epel?”
Epel wondered if the mushroom in his plate is the right kind of mushroom or is he about to die and be greeted by one final sight of you.
Is this bliss?
IS this heaven…?
“ oi.. Epel? Whats the problem?”
The other three curious of what Epel was seeing push through.
And there you are as a beastman. A cat beastman.
Jack howl.exe has stopped working
Sebek zigvolt.exe stopped working
Ortho.exe has taken rapid shot
He is making sure his brother gets to see you like this as well. The picture is auto sent to Idia’s device.
Jack’s fluffy white tail began frantically wagging
Sebek the loudest of the loud manage to be the quietest.
The three of them felt blood rushed up their heads, while Deuce and Ace share a sense of ‘i get you.’ Vibe to the other four.
In collective silence the four of them created a bigger human wall shield continuing adeuce duo’s wall.
“the wall keeps getting bigger and bigger! Yeahh! This will tell people that the great Grim is passing through!! “ Grim shouts.
You would laugh at his antics but now just not the time.
You pick grim up as to cover yourself with him as well, using his body to cover as much face as you can while u hunched trying to be invincible.
Of course this meant letting go of ace and deuce much to their disappointment.
The sixth of them wish they were born as some werebeast so easily carried by you and
“We need explanation but for now let’s get some food.”
With the group all agreeing to stay in formation you went. To get the food in line.
You had manage to make grim cover your ear while u get food for him and you, you of course give him extra chicken for all the hard work.
Everything was going swell, or so you thought.
“BOOO!”
In a speed that u had never achieved before you jump very high up into a table in an offense position hissing. Only then you had realized you fucked up.
Grim had fallen off your head showing full out your new cat ears and tail.
‘Oh great sevens.’ You wanted to mentally bash yourself because what the fuck is that reflex.
The old bat had froze in his track as his eyes widened at your new form. He found your new form rather endearing, plus what kind of reaction can you show now?
The whole cafeteria had gone silent so have your before jack covered you up with his jacket and scooped you up off the table and ran. All the other first year in tow.
“ MIND YA OWN BUSINESS, There is nothing to see here!” You could hear Epel shouted.
“Run run run!” Ortho speed hover.
“I WILL STUN YOU IF YOU FOLLOW US HUMANS!” Sebek shouted.
You could hear vil shouting to Epel for him to stop and order to Rook who is still in a paralyzed mode.
You could hear Riddle threatening Ace and Deuce to stop or not he would cut off their heads which only make them ran faster. Trey and carter trying to calm their dorm leader while also thinking of a plan to steal u away.
Floyd was whining about how they are taking the little shrimp-cat away from him to jade.
Azul still stuck in his trance.
Kamil shouting for you to come back,
jamil silently planning murder to get u back.
Leona chuckling saying something about a hunt to ruggie who is also chuckling in amusement.
Silver shocked with how sebek is involved, but then again you are involved so he should’ve expected it and also your new form. Malleus also is laughing, amused.
Truth be told the first year gang had scoop you up not only to save you but also to fulfill their desire, your new form that had enhance your cuteness should only be for them and theirs only. They found you first! Not those second or third year! You belonged to them! You are one of us! They do not want any body to see you like this. They don’t deserve it.
Although Sebek won’t mind sharing this sight with Malleus he thinks no body deserves to see you like this especially with their lust filled eyes.
Lilia chuckle as he snapped out of his trance.
“Kufufufu, it seems the kitten has been kidnapped by a big bad rebellion.. it’s time to teach them to know their place isn’t.”
“ father.. what are you planning?”
“Truly a wise word, Lilia. Whatever shall we do to teach these rebellious kids to never steal from a dragon.”
“You mean a lion?” Leona now annoyed with the declaration.
“ you and them? Ha you are most incompatible with them.”
“Are you sure about that? She is a beastman now, and most beastman are in the reigh of sunset savanna, ultimately my kingdom. Plus i am the original of their beastkin, she would be most compatible with me.”
“She could live in luxury in briar valley as the wife of a king instead of just some lousy king.”
“Ha what is that?”
“Or a general wife you kno.”
“Not you too Lilia!.”
“Excuse me! I know them more and better than any or you!” Riddle now involved in the conversation.
“ oh my, i can’t even imagine the fate they will have if you get to her.”
“Ha what do you mean by that?”
“What i meant is simply, your “rules” is definitely going to be atrocious to follow. If she were with me she would live happily in riches.”
“And wet underwater? Oh how bad that would be for her poor skin. She would much rather go with me draped in fame and gold.”
“ as if! She would rather be with me!”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Fine let’s settle it like a sensible being. The one who manage to capture her first would have the right to be with her.” The lion declared.
“Such a wise statement coming from you, Rook prepare yourself.”
“Ouii, a game of hunt! I agree.” Standing tall beside the fair king, he readied himself.
“This whole thing is dumb, of course they would choose me, but for the sake of your dignity i will participate this game. Besides i have to collar a few underclassmen of mine” The red hair boy stands.
“Oo sounds fun, Jade, Floyd we will have a change if schedule, it seems to be perfect day for hunting.”
“Yes, Azul.”
“Yes,Azul~”
“As if you all could beat me the crown prince of briar woods himself.”
With the whole dorm agreeing to play the game of hunt, they set the hunt to begin after school finished (curtesy of Riddle), lets just say you might want to wish that your group got a memo of this and tries to save you from them and not take you for themselves of course .
Meanwhile-
“Of course they wouldn’t choose me.”
“But… if i can catch them then they will have no other choose, hahaha.” The flamey blue haired guy spoke
[3251 word]
>>To be Continued<<
.·:*¨༺ ❈ ༻¨*:·.
#ツイステッドワンダーランド#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst malleus#malleus draconia#ace trappola#deuce spade#trey clover#riddle rosehearts#carter diamond#leona kingscholar#twst leona#ruggie bucchi#twisted wonderland ruggie#jack howl#azul ashengrotto#twst azul#jade leech#floyd leech#kalim al asim#jamil viper#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#idia shroud#ortho shroud#epel felmier#lilia vanrouge#silver#twisted wonderland yuu#sebek zigvolt
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i do genuinely hesitate to ask, as i am sure i will find out more than i meant to in time, but atm my various feeds and an uninformed google are not telling me what most recently exploded about the british government, so if you have the time and the inclination i'm agog for your summary/take
HOO BOY. It has been a Things Exploding In the British Government day to the extent that in the hour-odd between my previous post and this one, I had to go back and check if anything ELSE had exploded while I wasn't looking. Everything that they are currently denying will probably be confirmed within the next 12 hours or less, though, so nobody get too comfortable.
Anyway, we all remember how Liz Truss succeeded Boris Johnson as Prime Minister, met the Queen, the Queen immediately fucking croaked which honestly was the funniest time she could possibly have done it, the country ground to a total halt for ten days, and then when it got going again, Truss and her chancellor (aka finance minister, for those of you happily ignorant of British politics), Kwasi Kwarteng, proposed a Thatcherite wet-dream economic plan of unfunded massive tax cuts for rich people, because something something Stimulate Growth. We are also generally aware that this crashed the pound through the floor, blew up people's mortgages and other mildly important bills, and did nothing to deal with the actual energy bills/cost of living crisis currently engulfing the UK. Oops.
After absolutely everybody, including the commie socialists at the Bank of England, screamed OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU MORONS DOING???, and the day after Kwarteng insisted he would absolutely remain in post and he had 100% confidence in the Plan, he... got sacked for creating this, the Plan that Truss had asked him to deliver and which had won her the Tory party members' election. This made him officially the second-shortest serving chancellor in UK history aside from the guy who literally died in office. Womp womp. That will be a pub quiz answer for you. You're welcome.
Having spent all this time hiding from the press, then giving eight-minute press conferences during which you could literally track the pound crashing in real time, and performing more U-turns than a dancing dashboard hood ornament, Liz Truss took a break from her busy schedule of conducting the Economic Disaster Waltz in the key of B Fucked to appoint Jeremy Hunt as the new chancellor. Jeremy Hunt is mostly notable for being a Tory who can put his pants on without assistance and being a genteel failure at all the previous cabinet posts he's held, which is why he is now regarded as a "safe pair of hands" in a party that has dissolved into a lot of shit-flinging coked-up gibbons who can only scream BREXIT BREXIT BREXIT and IMMIGRATION IS BAD!!! (Side note: they recently had to cancel a festival designed to "celebrate the freedoms of Brexit" due to logistics issues associated with, you guessed it, Brexit. That is not directly relevant to the current clusterfuck, but it is too funny not to include.)
To nobody's surprise, Jeremy Hunt then ripped up the entire economic plan and offered a new one, which was not measurably better than the last one but at least reversed some of the most egregious cuts, and which made everyone ask if Liz Truss had been tied up and duct-taped in the boot of a Range Rover and/or if Hunt had secretly staged a coup with the help of Larry the Downing Street Cat and taken over the government. Probably nobody in the Tory party would mind very much if he had, because they were all busy either planning how to oust Truss or publicly denying that they were indeed planning to oust Truss. One of the popular names for her successor? Boris Johnson! No, I am not making this up. Maybe this has all been a horrible dream and we're going to wake up and find that BoZo is back in charge, after massive public scandal for being a serial liar, which he had been from Day 1, finally made him resign. I repeat, what even the hell is going on here. Nobody knows. Meanwhile, Hunt is warning about even more budget austerity and "eye-watering" cuts to public services that can least afford it, because the last decade didn't result in quite enough preventable deaths for the Tories' tastes, and because they have been forced into this by a car crash completely of their own making.
....anyway. This brings us, more or less, to today. Yesterday, Truss refused to commit to protecting something called the pensions triple lock, which guarantees that old-age pensions (the UK form of social security) will rise in line with inflation, costs, or earnings. A) Inflation in the UK is now at a whopping 10.1%, and B) given as old people are literally the only demographic still willing to vote for the Tories, this miiiiiight seem like an even more unnecessarily stupid and self-sabotaging idea. Sure enough, U-Turn Number Eight Million was duly performed this morning, and Truss insisted she had always intended for the triple lock to be protected. But would Universal Credit and other welfare/benefits programs also be adjusted upward for inflation? HELL NAH! THOSE ARE FOR POOR PEOPLE! GROSS!
This, however, was only the beginning of the unpeeling of the latest idiot banana. Keir Starmer, riding high on the back of recent polls that have given Labour a 36-point lead and predicted that the Tories could be left with as few as 22 seats in Parliament if a general election was called tomorrow (leaving the SNP as the official opposition), appeared at Prime Minister's Questions and got to shoot fish in a barrel. Truss did not dissolve into a pile of goo on the floor and/or have a bucket of water thrown on her and melt into Margaret Thatcher, so that was taken as a win. Well, at least for two hours or so. Then Suella Braverman, the ex-Attorney General who had briefly run for the leadership when BoZo resigned, and who exists along with Priti Patel in order to prove that in the modern Tory party, women of color can heroically be just as much as awful xenophobic monsters as crusty old white dudes, resigned as Home Secretary. Did you even know she was Home Secretary? Neither did she. She took over Patel's job in a bid to apparently make Patel look cute and cuddly by comparison, as she is even more determined to do horrible things to migrants as much as possible. The official reason given for her resignation was that she sent an official document from her personal email account, and this had something to do with immigration and/or the Office of Budget Responsibility forecast that the Tories have, in the valiant spirit of freedom, resisted actually publishing for any of their current economic plans. CONSERVATIVES ARE GOOD FOR THE ECONOMY!! yell people on both sides of the Atlantic. Oh-kay.
Anyway, Braverman used her resignation letter to blast Truss for pretending that everything was fine and dandy, which means the BUT HER EEEEEEMAILS was absolutely just an excuse and even she wanted off this sinking ship as fast as possible. Grant Shapps is now the Home Secretary. It's not important. The point is, if more ministers start resigning, the government will probably implode just as it did when they deserted BoZo en masse. What the hell happens then? Fuck if anyone knows. Since they will, as noted, get absolutely cosmically annihilated if they call a General Election, the Tories will resist doing that with all their might (the next one isn't due until 2024, which is about 1004329 years away at the current rate that time is passing here). Truss was already elected by a tiny minority of the country (about 160,000 Tory party members). STICK RISHI SUNAK IN THERE AND CHANGE THE RULES AGAIN?? HECK, SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN! KEEP THOSE MUSICAL CHAIRS COMING, CHAPS!
(Also: we will recall the Daily Star's Lettuce Cam, where a picture of Liz Truss has been placed next to a head of lettuce to see if she is kicked out of office before it rots away. It now has a special companion, Tofu. This is because Braverman, just yesterday, gave a speech attacking the latest round of climate protesters as being spurred on by Labour, the Lib Dems, and the "Guardian-reading, tofu-eating wokerati," which she doubtless thought was a very clever line at the time. Because British Twitter is British Twitter, the Tofu: 1, Braverman: 0 jokes have been rife.)
And since we are still not done: tonight, Labour forced a vote on a fracking ban which was being treated as a de facto confidence vote in the government. Aka if the Tories voted for it, they would be considered to be defying the government. Because Britain is a cartoon country run by clowns, the method of Parliamentary voting literally involves walking through Door A for Aye and Door B for Nay. The "whips," or the people whose job it is to assure that party members vote according to the government's position, have thus been known to physically stuff recalcitrant MPs through these doors, because Hail Britannia, or something. So we soon had reports that the anti-fracking vote was, dare I say it, a total clusterfrack, and the Tory whips were literally throwing crying Tory MPs through the Nay door so they would Vote To Support The Government. This sounds like a beginning to a Monty Python sketch, but it is just another ordinary evening in British politics in 2022! (Did Truss herself vote? Or BoZo, Patel, or any of the other Tory big beasts? Nope. Evidently she was "too distracted" with all the other crises going on, which probably means she just didn't want to show her face or she might get killed. Hard to blame her.)
So: the fracking ban was defeated, Labour MPs were like "oh my god the sheer clownery," even Tory MPs were spitting mad, we soon had more rumors that both the Tory chief whip and the deputy chief whip had resigned (currently in the Official Denial stage, so yeah, that will be confirmed before tomorrow morning), and I haven't even mentioned the part where one of Liz Truss's press aides admitted that they used to lie about various relatives of hers having just died so Truss didn't have to do interviews (actual quote: "just aunts and cousins, not any major relatives!"). We all wondered if that wasn't actually a lie but the minor members of the Truss family had voluntarily decided to die rather than have anyone know that they were related to her. Either that or she just sent MI6 after them. It's entirely possible.
#rionsanura#ask#politics for ts#uk politics#i truly cannot explain the magnitude of this clown show#truly#long post
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LOUD.
a background check.
“Are you angry?”
Obi-Wan shook his head, eyes trained on his hands wringing the shirt’s fabric in his lap.
“It’s okay if you are.”
Obi-Wan shook his head again. It wasn’t okay if he was angry. Even before Melidaan they’d accused him of being too headstrong, too volatile. Too angry.
He’d been so angry on Melida/Daan.
“Are you scared?”
He nodded before he could think. The nod, too, was too volatile, too angry.
“Are you scared you could infect people?”
Amongst others, he thought a bit hysterically. Nodded.
“The healers have tested, rigorously, if you can infect others. They have confirmed that you are not a danger to others, Obi-Wan.”
Which was the only reason he could be outside his room when the walls got too small or too big.
“How are you adjusting to the mask?”
He shrugged. Sometimes he wanted to rip it off and half his face with it. Sometimes he wished he could crawl into it completely and escape the curious looks and whispers of how his jaw was gone, have you heard? I’ve heard he’s rotting underneath—
.
It started with a cough after Melida/Daan.
He got message after message on the progress after he left and it made him smile, sometimes laugh at the betrayed disbelief over how much bureaucracy was actually necessary to form a planetary government.
The laughs soon turned into hacking coughs.
He drank the tea Qui-Gon made him to soothe his throat.
“Just a cold,” he murmured. He’d had that one before leaving Melidaan, and he and the Temple healers figured it was the stress his body had to endure that finally caught up with him.
“If it gets worse,” Qui-Gon started, looked down into his own cup, and fell silent.
Obi-Wan’s return to the Temple was a mixed bag of loth cats, after all.
A year of rumors and no contact showed him exceedingly well and painful in its brutal subtlety of lost smiles and avoidance who his friends were.
Lumi— Luminara had waited outside the healer’s wing after a follow-up check. Had straightened up when she saw him and clasped her hands in front of her. “I am very happy to see you, Obi-Wan,” she said, halted and stiff before the anger got the better of her.
What in the Galaxy had compelled him to leave the Order? No sign of him. Just an official statement that he had chosen to leave the Order. And now he’s back?
“What the fuck, Obi-Wan!” She reeled back immediately. Took a step back.
And Obi-Wan’s life had taught him how to step forward despite the fear clawing at him. “Let me explain? Please?”
She huffed at him, head up high. “This better be good. Quinlan is driving me up the Temple walls with his teenage drama sullenness over you.”
So that was why Obi-Wan hadn’t seen him but exactly once since he’d come back.
Obi-Wan explained. The war. Master Tahl. Master Qui-Gon. The war. The children. The war children. The war. The war. The war—
He hiccuped on the tears and something… something changed. In his throat. He lifted a hand to it—
Lumi’s arm was around him, stroking his shoulder and crying with him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—“
He coughed, convulsed with the cough, and there was blood on Lumi.
It had started with a cough after Melida/Daan began to turn into Melidaan and he, what felt like, crawled back to the Order begging for forgiveness and a new path and a new Master while he was at it.
What followed was multiple summons to the Council, a closed door meeting of the Council and Qui-Gon after which his Master wouldn’t look him in the eye for a week.
What followed was Master Tholme being dragged across the courtyard by Quinlan who avoided his eyes but emanated stubborn help. The Shadow Master, which was only a rumor but a rumor that had lasted decades, drily looked at Quinlan before explaining to Obi-Wan how Quin had washed and pleated the robes Master Tholme was now wearing. Would Obi-Wan like some tea?
Tea turned out to be a monstrosity of a milkshake, a secret even more closely guarded than Shadow identities.
“I have been informed you are looking for a change.”
What followed was Obi-Wan getting to know Master Tholme as a person. The soft, comfortable core of him that was never betrayed by his stoic expression but rather the old fashioned music player his first Padawan had gifted him that he danced to in the sanctuary of his kitchen. His silences that invited to share, his calm demeanor, his high expectations and his steady, grounded, and ever ready provided help.
Before all that, the new Master, the old Master, a planet uniting, there was a kiss in victory, in celebration, and in genuine, heartfelt thanks, that transferred a local bacteria.
And that, that had started the cough.
.
“The Force is with—“ is the last thing he’s spoken with his own voice and, with distance and age, he’s rather proud of that one.
A lot of distance and age, granted.
Getting eaten from the inside out had hurt, had pushed him to the brink of insanity with how much it hurt even with the healers - five, six, seven healers working simultaneously to keep him from dying - keeping the pain at bay.
They had used the Force to try to contain the bacteria’s progress, trying to buy time to figure out what was attacking him.
He’d succumbed eventually. The pain, the sheer force of wills battling against the infection, half his neck just… gone. He’d succumbed to unconsciousness with Master Qui-Gon’s forehead against the back of his limp hand, and waited to see if he’d wake up again.
.
“The system Melidaan resides in has a strain of bacteria that,” newly graduated Healer Che halted, managing to shuffle her data pad like a stack of flimsi, “eats human-based tissue. The population is vaccinated and only very few cases have been reported in the past decades. It has been nearly forgotten.”
It spread orally.
Obi-Wan, when everyone was gone and he had managed to limp to his data pad on the table across the room, had sent a message “are you okay? Please go to the hospital”. Had crawled to the fresher, had scrubbed his lips and sutures raw and bleeding, and cried silently until dawn jostled him back to bed.
.
“How are you feeling, Obi-Wan?”
He shrugged. Eyes trained on the cracking open hands in his lap. “How is Thelar,” he signed.
“They are recovering well. Their healer contacted our office to let you know that they are alright and they are sorry.”
Thelar was too nice.
“You pushed them with the Force. What happened?”
Talking and teaching basic sign language and he got to take his first deep breath without the mask and in the company of friends.
Wet and too narrow and he was drowning in the liquified tissue of— no air, no feeling, his lips pressed against his teeth and he couldn’t feel it but the drowning and choking—
“They kissed me,” he signed.
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so more on that role reversal au...
Shadow (created as a Weapon Against Humanity) who was eventually raised, and exploited, by G.U.N to become Humanity's Ultimate weapon and Sonic, found by Robotnik
some more expanded thoughts below ^_^
SHADOW - G.U.N AGENT
Shadow was initially created with the intention of being a Weapon Against Humanity. after a life-altering incident, G.U.N. takes Shadow into their custody, raising him to become one of their top agents, exploiting him.
he's constantly under government surveillance... inhibitor rings (developed by G.U.N.) are clamped onto him like a shock collar so he is unable to tap into his full power. (Shadow has neither tested nor does he know the extent of his strength.. he has never tried removing them. G.U.N. is the only one who can remove them.)
the hypocritical method in wanting their weapon (cough trained dog) to exercise and develop restraint on his own terms, and yet forcefully acclimating him.
Shadow’s aware of his past. Definitely struggles with Existential dread about why he’s on Earth and what he was made for. he wants to (and feels like he should) do good, but if he was initially made with destructive intent… is he compensating this way? is this what he really wants? no.. he shouldn't think like that.. Maria would want him to be good..
If not to make the world the better a place, if they still treat his kind as inferior and sometimes, even a threat to the whole human race, does humanity and this planet still deserve its rite for redemption? What is humanity? Is that something he’s capable of, as a weapon of mass destruction?
what is he trying to prove here? His docility? His ability to be obedient and be, by human standards, good? what does that mean in a world that may never accept them, and much less him- a synthetic and all-unnatural organism forged from humanity’s worst and an alien race only capable of Evil and wrongdoing. a being so perfectly suited for any and all forms of persecution. Humankind’s scapegoat. He thinks about Maria.
Maria remains a guiding light. Back then, she would sneak Shadow out to gaze upon the Earth, her former home. She misses it, the lush greenery, the sun, the people. she hopes that Shadow will get to experience what it’s like.
au shadow is emo edgy in a sad wet adult 40yo cat leon kennedy kind of way. au sonic is emo edgy like a 14yo that found out you could buy a tattoo gun on amazon without a license. I know nothing about resident evil
when he's not on a mission, he's usually in his "room" (extremely generous word for containment chamber/training facility.) he's like a hamster in a cage with toys to play with . (treadmills. race tracks. dummy robots. Ak-47s.) He's allowed to freely roam HQ from hours 6am-10pm, and if not, he is usually escorted by a guard, unless its Rouge sneaking him out. But beyond that, it's not like the ultimate lifeform needs that much sleep, and it'd be bad to have their ultimate weapon roaming the halls without supervision. but let's say there's the occasional nocturnal scavenger providing him a bit of nightly mischief that even the most complicated most difficult to navigate ventilation system cannot keep a natural-born burrower out..... (haha)
SONIC - ACCOMPLICE
Robotnik’s “accomplice” (adoptive son?)
Sonic goes along with Robotnik’s schemes but has his own ulterior motives .. after all, working under someone is still infringing on his sense of freedom, independence, and pride.
He only rlly helps out Robotnik out if it helps him… robotnik makes some new tech that tickles his , esp if smth that happens to enhance his existing abilities. sure he’s more than capable of doing things on his own but what’s better than to play with his new toys with his already existing toys (GUN. shadow.)
and if he manages to break them in a day then he’s found an issue that robotnik needs to troubleshoot immediately. eggman should really be Thanking him!
his only known goal atm is to find things that stave off his boredom. from what Shadow's gathered at least. but maybe there's more...
has a very bad No Good Fixation on shadow's inhibitor rings for whatever reason. wonder that could mean.
Still fucking around with roles and nothing's rlly set in stone. Im just kind of giggling kicking rocks and throwing pebbles in the water to see what lands ^q^
Rouge is still there! A contractor for G.U.N. A Recovering/reformed Jewel thief who joins the task force (maybe?)
the gang is also there! still brainstorming roles though. emrmmm
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MASTERLIST
Empty Words - FLUFF/ANGST
Sargent Bucky Barnes finds himself enthralled by the new nurse. Luckily for him his courting pays off. Follow them as they share their days at the barracks together.
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Always - ANGST/FLUFF
The sequel of Empty Words. It’s been too long without him, she hurts everyday. One day when the Compound is under attack she finds herself facing the man she’d thought she never see again.
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Bucky Makes you a meal - FLUFF
An International Woman’s Day special! Bucky Barnes finds out from Natasha that since his time as the Winter Soldier women’s rights have been improving, along with those rights came a day solely for the girls. Since you were away on a mission the day of IWS Bucky makes you a meal the following day to celebrate.
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Tha Gaol Agam Ort - FLUFF
Bucky makes an unlikely friend in the new Scottish avenger, after spending months around her constantly he can confidently say he knows most of what she’s saying. What Bucky is hiding, not very well mind you, is his secret crush on her. Will he confess?
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Gift Wrapped - SMUT
Sargent Bucky Barnes celebrates his rescue by enjoying a couple drinks at a bar, where he notices his girl is paying a little too much attention to his uniform.
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Can’t Sleep? - FLUFF
You spend the early mornings doom scrolling through Tik Tok when you’re supposed to be asleep, Bucky changes that.
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Possessive Bucky - SMUT
You two are undercover, part of your disguise is a long black dress that wraps around you in all the right places— Bucky can’t help the way his jaw clenches and cock hardens.
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Missed Dates - FLUFF/ANGST
You and Bucky have been distant lately, the government making sure his missions were as long and as far away as possible. To make up for it he organises a date the same day he finishes his mission.
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Damn Bear - SMUT
Sgt Barnes wins you a bear at a carnival. What he doesn’t expect nor like is when you give it more attention, Bucky shows you that’s he’s better than the bear.
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Kitty Cat - FLUFF
Bucky is compromised during a mission, sending him back into the mindset of the winter soldier. When he makes a break for it he ends up back at your house. Who will help him revert?
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Sergeants Got You - SMUT
You’re stressed, he knows exactly how to make you feel better.
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Winter’s Girl - SMUT
Could you imagine being a scientist on the winter soldier program, your task is to make sure he’s at 100% before every mission. This time though, when you enter his holding cell he’s nowhere to be found.
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Brat’s Don’t Get What They Want - SMUT
I’ve been thinking about mob boss’ daughter Reader who is an absolute brat, she’s spoiled rotten and has the attitude to prove it— but, is there a reason why?
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DRABBLES
Fucking You (literally) - SMUT
A small collection of the different ways the different Bucky’s would ruin you ;).
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Actor Bucky - SMUT
A Drabble of Actor bucky and his love for your dress.
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Back in Time - FLUFF
A Drabble of a scenario I had in my head for a long time. After the blip the Avengers came up with the idea of travelling back in time to retrieve the stones. You, Steve and Tony are unsuccessful but are desperate to get it— so you travel back to the 1940’s, before Bucky’s train accident. What will happen when you somehow find yourself fighting off a huddle of men?
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Waking up with Sargent Barnes - FLUFF
A Drabble of mines. After an eventful night you find yourself waking up in Sgt Barnes’ warm embrace, unfortunately for you, you had agreed to meet Steve for milkshakes.
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Domming Beefy Bucky - SMUT
A Drabble where I explore my deepest fantasies of dining the absolutely huge Bucky, he’s too big not to dominate.
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Requests/ASKS
Princess x Bucky - SMUT
Bucky finds Princess in a compromising position - FLUFF
Breeding Bitch | Lee Bodecker - SMUT/DARK
Confessions - Bucky x Princess - SMUT
Other
Brain rot, brain rot - SMUT
How Bucky got Alpine - FLUFF
(I do not own any photos, credits to owners)
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Outfits and Naps
Spencer Reid x FTM!Reader
FEM-ALIGNED DNI - You will be blocked if you interact with this post. This is made for trans men/mascs, not women.
Reader is bored at home, not having much to do. He decided to try on some outfits he bought earlier, and then falls asleep.
Warnings: Mostly focused on Reader. Slightly feminine outfit mentioned. Dysphoria is implied if you squint really hard. Practically just a random drabble I randomly came up with. Reader has a cat because cats are very cool. Also, guys.. please don't sleep in your binder..
Word Count: 1.2k
Spencer was away at work, so it was only you and your childhood cat (that you got at 17.. so more of a teenage-hood cat), Mr. Whiskers the 3rd (and since it was such a long name, you shortened it to Mr. Whiskers. Although you stated his full government name was Furball Whiskers the 3rd.) at home.
You didn't have much to do, it was a peaceful day and you decided you were going to order takeout for dinner when Spencer came home. So, cooking wasn't an option. Having set your mind to takeout, there was no way you could cook. You already knew what you were going to order, so you couldn't change plans.
So there you were, sitting on the couch, your cat next to you, sleeping while you were bored out of your mind. You pet him for a whole, sighing as you tried to come up with something to do. Calm days were actually really boring. As you thought, you scrolled through your phone, switching between apps trying to get an idea.
Maybe you could take a walk? No, too cold, and you felt bad leaving Mr. Whiskers alone.
As you scrolled through your phone, you saw this post which reminded you of some outfits you bought and wanted to try on earlier, but always put aside. Happy that you found something to do, you stood up, rushing to your bedroom, your cat soon following behind.
You threw your phone on your bed, heading to your closet and pulling out some boxes where you stored the outfits. You carried them and placed them on the bed to open and take the clothes out.
You decided to wear your binder while trying on clothes, so you knew how they'd look when you go out. You go get it, and put it on after a few minutes of struggling.
Now you stood by your bed again, your cat sitting in the middle of the bed, waiting for the boxes to empty.
“Which one looks better Mister? This? Or.. this?” You ask him, holding out a cropped turtleneck with the shoulders cut in your left hand, and a white, sleeveless button up shirt in your right.
Mr. Whiskers turned his head to the left, sniffing the air a bit, which had made you think he chose the turtleneck, but then he turned his head to the right, so you thought he changed his mind. Finally, he just spun around in a circle trying to get comfortable on your bed before lying down and not picking anything out for you.
“Thanks..” You mumble, wondering why you even bothered asking a cat for help. You decided you would try both of them, hoping to style them for future use. You set the button up shirt down and put on the turtleneck. You had to find a nice pair of pants now.. which was difficult because you knew this turtleneck would look great with a skirt, but you weren't that comfortable yet.
Finally, you decided on a pair of black jeans, because you couldn't figure out what else to wear. You thought you looked nice, and snapped a mirror selfie of your newly created outfit and sent it to Spencer.
That's how you spent your afternoon, mixing and matching different shirts and pants, trying out different outfits, taking pictures, and sending a few to your boyfriend, asking for his opinion.
Not that he was helpful, that man said you looked absolutely stunning in each outfit you created. And also he usually stuck with sweater vests and slacks.. so he didn't really know he was supposed to help with.
You gave up after his third, “They both look great.” and his second “It’s you, anything looks good on you.”
Obviously, he wasn't helping, so you just sent him pictures of what you decided looked better, which he still enjoyed.
Finally, you tried out all the new clothes you got, and managed to style each of them. You put everything away, and sat on the bed, telling yourself you were only sitting to think of something else to do, but instead ended up laying down and falling asleep.
Spencer opened the front door, and was surprised when Mr. Whiskers didn't rush over to sniff and inspect him. “Y/N! I'm home.” He called out, closing the door behind him, only to be met with silence. Puzzled on why he arrived home to be met with a quiet house and no greeting, he ventured further into your house. He grew slightly nervous, which was only normal considering his job, but kept calmed.
He walked into the bedroom, slowly opening the door, hoping you just fell asleep and the animals were locked in with you.
As he opened the door, he was met with the cutest view, and he felt his heart melt at what was in front of him. He smiled, taking out his phone to snap a quick picture before walking up to the bed.
You laid in bed, wearing a pair of your boyfriend's sweatpants, which were baggy on your smaller body, along with your binder that you didn't take off after trying on clothes. In front of you was Mr. Whiskers, which you held close, hugging him as if he was a plushie.
He had been asleep, but woke up when Spencer entered the bedroom. He only looked up to him, but stayed comfortably on the bed under his owner's arms.
Spencer couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the sight, finding it absolutely adorable how you slept with your cat. He also saw how you still had your binder on and decided to wake you up, now knowing how long you had it on.
“Love. Get up, you need to get that binder off.” He shook you lightly, trying to wake you up in a nice manner. You grumble and shoo him off, trying to pull your cat closer, but he decided to get up when Spencer started to wake you. “Y/N, get out of your binder..” He insisted, shaking your shoulder now.
You groaned being woken up from your nap and shook your head no. “Mm.. 5 more minutes.” You mumbled, hiding your face in your hands, turning away from your boyfriend.
Spencer laughed and shook his head, finding your sleepiness amusing. “No, get up Y/N. Now.” He laughed, grabbing your arms and pulling you up to a sitting position.
As he managed to sit you up, he smiled at your now barely conscious self. “I was having such a good nap ‘Pence.. you should have joined me instead of waking me.” You mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his own.
“Sweetheart, as good as a nap it was.. and as cute as you look in my sweatpants and your binder, you shouldn't be sleeping with that on! Now go change, I'll give you one of my sweaters if you want too.” He smiled, pressing a kiss on your temple. “And then we can cuddle and nap if you want to.” He added on, knowing that'll be good enough motivation for you to go change.
You turn your head to look at him and smile, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth before getting up to change out of your binder, rushing so you could cuddle up with him.
#spencer reid x male reader#spencer reid x trans reader#spencer reid x ftm reader#spencer reid#criminal minds x male reader#bau x male reader#male reader#criminal minds#x male reader#trans reader#ftm reader#criminal minds fic
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Prompt 280
Let me kick down the door and-
Nekomatta Danny. But not just any nekomata Danny. I am saying space cat boy. Twin-tails that seem to flicker into an aurora, into distant galaxies, ghostly flames that could be just that, or could be flickers of distant stars and suns.
Now, the thing is? Being a ghost, very much illegal in the USA right now, doesn’t matter how many times they throw out the GIW, they can’t exactly take on the entire government any time soon. What isn’t illegal? Being an alien, meta, or any other magical creature.
So the halfas, yes that (ugh, really Jordan) does include Vlad, all get together to hash out a plan to get out of Amity. And? They like cats, you like cats right? And they have friends- or allies- in the Zone, so maybe they can perhaps get a few… oh? What’s this? A cat-like creature with necromatic powers? Yeah they can- oh. Hm. So that’s replaced their ghost form now.
That’s fine actually! They’re still ghosts- just erm, no longer human looking. And Vlad can continue to use his human form- yes we need to keep the bracelets on to hide the ears and tails, whatever- to continue running DalvCo.
It’s not bad, and they’ll admit Vlad has been getting better. Sure there’s still a bunch of blackmail (Jordan, Sam, stop helping him-), but they honestly? Can’t be brought to care. They’re adjusting- grieving in some cases- and focusing on actually finishing everything before the summer ends.
So it’s probably not a good time for heroes to start investigating Vlad…
If you want a basic summary on Bakeneko and Nekomata, which I HEAVILY recommend reading:
https://yokai.com/bakeneko/
https://yokai.com/nekomata/
#DCxDP#DPxDC#Prompts#Danny is Not Ghost King#Halfa Trio#Most of Amity was maybe destroyed#Yes Tucker couldn’t stop laughing about how they all look like furries in ghost form#Honestly someone could make the ‘connection’ between Masters having a cat & some bakeneko taking the form of their previous master#They have not connected any sort of dots but well#Yes they all have cat ears & tails even in human forms#Valerie still has her dad but is on an “internship” with Vlad#Plasma Core Vlad#Ocean Core Jazz#Sun Core Dan#Space Core Danny#Metal Core Val#Life Core Sam#Storm Core Tucker#Moon Core Ellie#Yes Vlad does still go to the odd Gala or two but he’s known as a very hermit-esque dude lol#I wonder where they could have moved since people already know about the Wisconsin home#Honestly up to anyone who decides to write this lol#Remind me to draw my ideas for the designs later
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Platonic Yan!Damian Wayne x Reader
Purge AU. Info on au.
You receive your official government letter announcing a yandere's claim on you in tomorrow's Purge. Accompanying it are five crimson letters from the yanderes themselves.
~500 words
Dearest [Name],
What obnoxious drudgery this whole Purge ordeal is! At first, I adamantly protested this process because of its unnecessarily long path in lieu of a simple solution.
Problem: You’re not home.
Solution: We bring you home.
Child’s play, yes? We could have met MONTHS ago, but Father and [REDACTED] wanted to do this the traditional way.
I will say, however, that this administrative route is not without its merits. I suppose it acts as a “closing of a chapter” for you to transition into your new life. At least, that’s what [REDACTED] said. Like pruning flowers, you must cut away the old to make way for the new.
However, I am confident that this arduous process will ultimately be unnecessary. Our family is superior in every conceivable way. I can’t go into specifics, but you will see the contrast immediately. You’ve been wasting away in that lackluster residence with your dull relatives, utterly unaware of your true destiny as part of OUR family.
All that said, I wish to extend to you all the patience needed for you to feel comfortable. If you want to spend these last 24 hours with your progenitors, then so be it. I don’t consider them a threat in the slightest because I know you’ll eventually see how lacking they were. After living with us, you’ll perceive them as the shoddy imitation of a family—one you were never destined for to begin with!!
I can’t wait to meet you. Life will be so much better once you’re here. Everyone has been so angsty and alight with nerves in the weeks prior to your arrival, so it will be such a relief when we can finally fall into our new normal.
I’ve been telling [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] the Cat all about you. [REDACTED] is my Great Dane. He’s a majestic behemoth of a canine—a most regal and befitting companion for us. I’ve told him everything there is to know about you, and since he already knows your scent, [REDACTED] and I will be your first true companions. [REDACTED] the Cat is a slick and temperamental creature who does as he pleases. I’m sure you’ll love them as much as I do.
We also have a cow, a turkey, and a dragon bat.
Do you like gardens? We have an ever-expanding garden on our estate, complete with a greenhouse, gazebo, and sand garden for meditation. We also have several libraries that you’re more than welcome to. Maybe we can paint together in the mornings?
I’ve always imagined that we could spend every afternoon together. You can entertain yourself however you wish while I complete my schooling, then we will dine and have tea together. After which, we can spend the afternoon
Father said my letter is nearing the word limit, so I will tell my parting thoughts:
Do not let your fear keep you from a better future. Do not fight back.
Until tomorrow,
Your little brother
Notes...
Damian threw the biggest tantrum when he found out that the government censors any identifiable names in yandere letters. The first Redacted was Dick, followed later by Titus and Alfred the Cat.
Damian's letter was so fun because he's still a little kid. He has endless confidence and minimal empathy, and has a tendency to go on tangents about his pets and hobbies. Nothing can go wrong in his daydreams. My boy <3
#yandere batfam#platonic yandere batfam#batfam x reader#yandere damian wayne#yandere x reader#purge au#yandere purge#yandere letter
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Danny Phantom Writing Prompt: The Lack of a Hero Complex
Once Danny publicly shames Vlad into returning the status quo of Amity Park, Danny also stops ghost fighting.
The Human Trio and Vlad confront Danny about his lack of action. The Human Trio finally gets a taste of the sleep deprivation Danny experienced when he didn't want to burden them from their schedules while the property damage continued to tarnish Vlad's public reputation. Danny just laughs.
Sam, completely livid at the lack of reaction: Who’s going to protect the town, Danny?
Danny gets up from the couch and looks directly into Vlad's eyes: Yeah, Vlad, how do you plan on protecting your town?
Danny lightly chuckles while he goes down to the lab where the Fenton Parents were working. He was just gonna play on the family computer while his Dad would boast about their latest idea.
The human trio:
Vlad:
When the ghosts who come to directly harass Danny, he decides he just needs to be completely honest with each of them.
Danny: Listen, I'll admit I kinda had fun with the bantering, but I want to focus on better things now. I was never really interested in any of you.
The Ghosts:
The results?
Vlad has to set up legit ghost detectors all over the city and properly hire the Fentons for protection. Vlad hoped that the hiring would gain him favor from Maddie, but he finally got to see how she really was compared to his idealized version. Their constant public damages made Vlad's reputation even more tarnished, and their lack of change despite him personally talking to them about it makes him grow equal resentment towards both of them. It gets to the point where Vlad just sets up the same ecto repellent he uses to keep ghosts from escaping his portal back in Winsconsin. The extra paperwork he has to do now governing is not worth the mess he caused. Political power wasn't as worth it as he thought it would be.
The Human Trio gave Danny the cold shoulder for a while, but that just gave him some well needed alone time to raise his grades. He even finally got to join the astronomy club like he planned before the portal accident. They were a very chill group and welcomed him to sit with them at lunch, so he was never alone. Dash tried to start their usual routine, but that was immediately hauled by the club leader.
Dash wasn't clever enough to figure out how to respond to being called 'Pussy Lips' by a girl, so he just kinda sulked away.
Dash will say the occasional snarky comment, but he never bring himself to get too close to Danny after a club member told Danny to tell Dash and the other football players they could take turns sucking him off after their club meeting. Dash just wasn't clever enough to get things back to normal.
Though the club members weren't A-listers, they weren't at the bottom, so Danny social life became better.
The Human Trio tried to continue on like before, but they were soon caught ghost hunting by the Fentons. There was no punishment, just overactive excitement, seeing they were finally interested in Ghost Hunting. Now, having to join the Fentons whenever there was a ghost detected, the fun of it is zapped away for them, making the tiredness not worth it anymore. The three eventually apologized to Danny, which he accepts, and the group finally accepts the new changes.
There are many things that can upset a ghost, but the universal act that can anger any core is being ignored. Even with the ecto repellent, the stronger ghosts manage to get through and try to get Danny's attention. The boy always just texts Vlad about how he sucks at his job and to take care of the disruption. The ghost eventually pick up that their violent outburst aren't working, so it gets to the point that they try to get his attention another way.
They tried to coax him with things they believed he liked. It is comparable to how Hyper Cat-lovers try to get a shy cat to love them.
Lunch Lady offers him a freshly made meal when he's low on money one day. He thanks her but says he had a big breakfast.
Ember tries to act like their best friends in front of the A-listers, so Danny will become more popular at school. He greets her but continues on his stroll like she was a typical citizen.
Technus offers to give Danny the answer key to all the tests for his classes, but he denies this offer instantly. He'll never cheat on a test ever again.
It got to the point that Skulker said he would drop the promise of getting Danny's pelt if he just let him see his ghostly form. Creeped out, Danny just backed away. He was thankful Valerie was close by.
Box Ghost actually got somewhere when he offered a three-dimensional solar system model. It was in a box he had, so Box Ghost offered it to Danny. He accepted it as the one in the club was showing its age.
This seemed to make these random ghost visits even more frequent. Danny guessed Box Ghost bragged about his 'accomplishment'.
Basically, the ghosts' obsession to defeat Danny changes to them wanting his attention. Vlad’s obsession becomes solely focused on Danny as he just finds Maddie and Jack so annoying now. Like, Vlad just wants to get custody of Danny and get the hell out of Amity Park. He doesn't even want to kill the Fentons now out of fear that they will become ghosts.
After the Ember incident, the A-listers kept trying to buddy up to him. However, Danny learned how they really were, so he just treated them the way he treated ghosts. Now, it seemed they were just as desperate.
Danny will turn into Phantom only when it's necessary, that or he's in the mood to fly. The downside to this change is that whenever he does transform, he always has an entourage of attention-starved ghosts following behind him. He can't even imagine how things would be if he went to the Ghost Zone.
Additions:
For those who want to know the members of the astronomy club-
For those who want to see the club room-
#danny phantom#danny phantom prompt#ghost obsessions#Vlad just wants to go back to Winsconsin#danny is a status symbol#unintentional ghost allies#casper high astronomy club#indifference#danny phantom fanfiction#box ghost#lunch lady#dp technus#technus#ember mclain#dp dash#dash baxter
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Temporary Relocation Prologue/Ch. 1
This fic is based on this drabble
Basic premise: Reader got an experimental surgery and is being relocated to a military base with more specialized medical supplies to help recovery while on medical leave, and will temporarily help with missions to ensure success after.
It was some kind of new experimental technology. You were one of only a few hundred who had the privilege of getting the opportunity. When they'd called, you'd needed to request for the information to be mailed because there was so much of it. "Instinctual Prosthetics" was what they had decided to name the project. It was supposed to help military combatants, granting an animalistic advantage of some kind on the battlefield. They would synthesize physical attributes of the target animal, you couldn't wrap your head around how, and intertwine the prosthetics and artificial nerves with your body's existing nervous system. Most info beyond that was disclosed to you as "need-to-know," which told you literally nothing you felt you needed to know.
Nonetheless, you were too intrigued- and too attached to the payout you'd get for using yourself as an experiment vessel- to say no. That was how you ended up on a helicopter with a man who'd introduced himself to you as Captain John Price, with your newfound cat ears and tail still extremely sensitive to everything around them. Every time the aircraft jostled, you found yourself flinching, and every time the noise changed you wished you could press your ears to your head to make it stop. If only it wasn't too dangerous to take off those headphones, which had been specially made for you. You didn't even want to think about what the violent whirs of the overhead blades would sound like without the protection they gave.
"Touchdown in five," the pilot called back to the two of you. You barely registered it until you heard Captain Price giving a comment saying the pilot's communication went over. "This team won't be anything like what you're used to, soldier. Much more specialized, much better materials to handle your... unique recovery circumstances." The captain's explanation didn't do much to ease your nerves, but you found yourself nodding as though it did. As though it held any clues of what you'd see on Task Force 141's base. "The rest of the force should be meeting us when we land," he continued. "I expect you'll get acquainted with them over your time here." The words gained another absent nod from you. Until the heli touched down, you found your brain wandering to how this all happened in the first place.
"It's an experimental procedure," the woman over the phone explained. You could hear pages flipping in the background of her mic, "we're only offering it to a few hundred soldiers to see how it takes. There's a wide range of people who chose to go in already." Her explanation only served as further confusion.
"I... I still don't understand," you mumbled before taking a sip of your coffee, "why was I selected?" The line was tense with silence for what you wish was a small beat, before the woman sighed.
"I only know what I'm telling you, and I'm only allowed to tell you what I know." Her gentle tone was meant to be reassuring, but right then it was just pissing you off. You were going to potentially lose critical brain functions if this went wrong, and it was still on a need-to-know? Fucking government. "There is one upside, though," she spoke tentatively now, "since this is a voluntary experiment, they're offering you compensation."
"Compensation?" The word echoed off of your tongue almost as if it was alien. "I'm sorry, I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around all of this."
"I have permission to make exactly one hard copy of this information and mail it to you. Would you like me to file the request for it?"
"Yes, please."
It hadn't felt like too long since that phone call. It probably hadn't been, if you were willing to compare hours to seconds. It had only been a few weeks since you were wheeled out of the surgery room, informed of the expected enhancements with your balance and hearing, and then immediately told about the orders for your relocation. You'd be temporarily occupying the base of a specialized and extremely classified task force, one you were sure your own generals themselves had never heard of. A few weeks since that tail was surgically implanted at the back of your spine and connected to your main nerve pathways, a few weeks since the nurses and doctors taking care of you started looking at you funny when you covered your ears from things they couldn't hear.
The harsh jostle of the helicopter landing, and the ensuing pins and needles from your still sore tail, broke you out of your trance. You took a deep breath as you stood up and removed the headphones, flinching at the more detailed sounds you knew no one else could hear, and looked up to see Captain Price awaiting your company to exit the aircraft.
"Are you ready?" He asks.
Not at all, you think, but give a verbal, "affirmative, Captain." Price doesn't walk off of the helicopter until he sees you next to him, where a small group of men wait, presumably for the two of you, in a semicircle. "So... this is the team?" You ask quietly, awkwardly, before they've noticed you. Price chuckles to himself before calling out to the group.
"Soldiers," his voice carries over the now fading whirs of the helicopter, "meet our new temporary recruit. After the medical recovery period ends, you'll all be working together out on the field. I expect you all to make good use of the remaining leave time." Nobody had to ask to know what Price meant. You'd all be stopping bullets and bombs for each other soon enough, probably too soon. He wanted a team that knew how to work together.
"What's with the cat ears?" A rough British accent calls. Your eyes flick to the source, a tall and muscular man wearing a skull mask. Your peripherals catch everyone else's eyes immediately flying to the top of your head while you make brief eye contact with the man. Your breath catches in your throat when you open your mouth to respond.
"This is the experimental procedure you were briefed about," Price stated. "I expect you all to treat this like any other new recruit. If I hear of any issues, you will be dealing with Shepherd." A collective groan came from the group as Price walked towards a gathering of buildings. Who?
"Aye Ghost, don't want them to make you a kitty cat, eh? Ya might end up too cute to fight that way," another man, a Scotsman with striking blue eyes and a mohawk, commented.
"A word, sergeant MacTavish," the Brit barked before walking into a nearby building. The Scot followed him without asking questions. You just watched the two in a daze, not sure what to make of the scene.
"What was that?" The question came from your mouth carefully.
"Don't mind them," another man, the only one left now, spoke up. He had umber skin that looked smooth, not as big of a build as the Brit but you had no doubt just as strong. "The sergeant's probably getting his fair share for talking to the lieutenant like that." As he talked, you noted he's probably better for agility. He took a step towards you and held out his hand, "I'm Kyle Garrick, Gaz on the field."
"Y/n L/n," you took a step to close the gap and firmly shook his hand. "Nice to meet you Gaz! Who are the other two? The sergeant and you said the lieutenant?"
Gaz laughed a little, the smile staying as he spoke, "the angry one in the mask, the lieutenant, is Ghost, and the Scot you saw messing with him is my fellow sergeant. His name's Soap. Those two are always at each other's throats. Bet you'll get used to it as you stay here," he took a step back after letting go of your hand. Gaz was still smiling, "and I'm assuming you know Price. There's others, but they're out on assignments if they're not stuck in the medical quarters recovering."
"Well, in that case, mind showing me the medical quarters? I'm due for an initial check-up after my briefing on the team. Pretty sure you just gave that to me."
Gaz turned and waved you on from behind, "follow me!" He called. You jogged to catch up, looking around and taking every detail in while gazing at the structures around you. Brief explanations of barracks, small hangars, different quarters and offices, the main canteen building as you passed it, everything you needed to know about getting around the base and what you need. Eventually, a building just as plain as the rest of them save for a red cross came into view. The medical quarters, you regarded it with internal relief. Your ears and spine were starting to ache again.
You even forgot to thank Gaz as you hurried in, leaving him to laugh to himself. You were definitely something. The base- the force- was going to enjoy having you.
Read the next chapter here
#cod mw2#cod mwii#ghost cod#cod x reader#mw2#call of duty#modern warfare#modern warfare 2#mwii#soap cod#cod#john soap mactavish#ghostsoap#soapghost#soap x ghost#ghost x soap#ghoap fic#ghoap x reader#ghoap#simon ghost riley#ghost#141#johnny mactavish#soap mw2#sergeant mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader x soap
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QSMP! Missa Character Analysis and How it Relates To Pissa
This is like the twin post to the Philza character analysis and how it relates to pissa. If anyone wants to know about how QSMP! Philza as a character and how that relates to pissa. I recommend checking out that post. Everyone really loved that post so I wanted to do a twin post of sorts focusing on our favorite wet cat Missa. Special thanks to @pepper-mintzyy my fandom demon on my shoulder.
Now I was personally introduced to him in Qsmp so I have no prior knowledge about any lore or character traits he had in other series. So I’m just getting my analysis only from Qsmp! Missa. Missa at his core is kind. I would even say too kind at times. He easily believes and forgives those he shouldn’t. He is kind to everyone. Everyone but himself.
Missa is also primarily driven by his emotions. Not in a bad way. His emotions just bleed out like Ink for better or for worse. Unlike Phil his emotions are the primarily driving force behind his actions. And this isn’t a bad thing. Of course Missa will find Phil more logical and calm approach to things comforting and attractive. Phil is a calm balm and his security blanket. Missa always feels safe with Philza.
Missa also has some baggage from his first week or so involving Spreen and Roier. He had no clue what was actually was happening. And he didn’t want to choose between them. This led to them both leaving him by himself. So of course he was a tad depressed before meeting Phil. And you could say he fell instantly.
Phil was his opposite in a good way. But both are similar when it mattered. Phil is honest, kind, spoils the heck out of Missa, and just cared so much. So of course Missa fell for the man instantly. I’m 100% sure the first day they got chayanne is when Missa began crushing hard on his government assigned husband.
Sadly the fact about Missa as a character is despite being surrounded by his family and husband that cares so much about him and literally will kill anyone that hurts him emotionally or physically (looking at you chayanne numero uno shipper and protector of the pissa nation). He still believes he is unworthy of them. Despite them loving Missa just the way he is. He doesn’t realize he doesn’t have to change or impress.
He is a tangle of insecurities. Any mistake he does is the worst thing. Any criticism he receives is the truth. He loves Phil and his family so he wants to be better for them. He wants to be one they can rely on when things get rough. He wants to protect them even if he isn’t the best at things. He wants to try. And I think Phil loves that about him.
Like I previously said up above. Phil and Missa are opposites but similar in the way it matters. Both Missa and Phil are loyal to a fault. The only other loyal as hell pair in the server is the actual canon married couple. They both also want the best for their family and they both love so deeply. They both just want each other and their family to be safe.
But also Philza only feels safe with Missa. Philza main trait is his paranoia but when Phil is with Missa it’s like the things previous that worried him is nothing next to Missa. Missa is Philza comfort. Philza adores Missa and how comforting and sweet he is. And of course Missa who is emotional (will sob at anything and everything) fell in love first. But like I said in the Philza post. Philza adores him as much as Missa adores him. He just doesn’t verbalize it.
Meanwhile Missa would gladly scream he loves philza from the mountain tops of Philza was okay with that. He would gladly call Philza attractive and the best if he didn’t fear coming on too strong or making his beloved uncomfortable. (We already talked in length about why Philza isn’t used to being vulnerable and fully admitting he loves Missa in the Philza post).
Unlike a certain Brazilian Missa will never even dare think of taking away Philza agency. He loves Philza because he is Philza. And Missa is so kind that despite his love for the man if Philza ever rejects him he would accept. In fact he has kept most of his affections a secret because he doesn’t want to make philza uncomfortable. The fact is everyone can see the two of them are in love but them.
But we all know the truth. Phil adores Missa with his whole heart. He loves Missa so much. And I do think Missa knows on some level. But he doesn’t want to push the issue. Again because he is so kind and understanding. At the moment he is just happy to be in Phil’s presence. Whether it’s under a charade of a platonic marriage or not. He is just happy to be with Phil. And others may say he is not the best for Phil and his family because he was gone for so long. But the fact is Missa never stopped tying to come back home. He was literally kidnapped for months. And the only reason he went out in the first place was to get Phil a gift. And Phil knows this so of course he stayed loyal and accepted him back no hesitation. Missa always will love Phil. Even if Philza doesn’t love him back. And isn’t true love when you don’t expect it be returned and you love him anyways? (Philza loves him so much. It’s just too dangerous to say it. But Philza wants to so badly)
#pissa#Deathduo#shipping#Qsmp#Yes im a bit invested into this ship#hope ya enjoyed this one as well :DD I had too much fun#I love my wet cat father your honor.#qsmp missa#major thanks to pepper and their discord for handing my delulu levels.#pissa newspaper
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