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munson-blurbs · 1 year

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I see you are taking requests. I love Eddie munson x reader angst. So maybe one where Eddie's band is doing well and he goes on a small tour and he attracts the unwanted attention of a stalker. She is so obsessed with him she moves to Hawkins and that is when she finds out that he has a fiance (the reader). The stalker than becomes obsessed with making the readers life a living hell. Death threats and all that bad stuff. Until the stalker hurts her one day. Make it as angsty as you want. If you can't do it, then please just ignore. Only if you are comfortable with it. Thanks 😊

Warnings: stalking, lots of violence, blood, knives, language, allusions to sex

WC: 3.7k

A/N: This is by far the creepiest thing I've ever written. Please let me know what you think. Your feedback really keeps me motivated.

"Oh, Eddie," Gareth says in a sing-song voice, peering out at their growing audience from behind the stage, "guess who's he-ere!"

"Oh, God," Eddie mutters as he tunes his guitar.

Puzzled, you look from him to Gareth for an answer, but when no one offers one, you ask, "Who's here?"

"Sorry to break it to you, Y/N," Jeff's voice is teasing, dripping sarcasm, "but Eddie's got himself a secret girlfriend."

"Eddie Munson!" you joke, feigning anger. "And here I am, trying to plan our wedding while you're collecting groupies on tour."

Your fiancé smiles at you wickedly. "Figured we could have a threesome or somethin.'" You give him a playful shove as he leans in to kiss your cheek. "Nah, babe. She's just a fan. Harmless."

"Just a fan?" Gareth sputters, throwing his head back with laughter. "Dude, she basically stalks you after each gig, trying to buy you drinks. One time, we found her waiting outside next to Eddie's van. I don't even know how she knew which one it was."

Worry rises inside of you. "Eds, be careful. Some of these girls can get a little unhinged."

Eddie's noticeably less concerned. "Don't worry. I'm gonna bring you out on stage tonight and introduce everyone to my beautiful almost-wife." He slings an arm around your waist. "Hopefully she'll get the hint."

Watching Eddie perform was an ethereal experience. Sure, you'd heard him rehearsing in the apartment you shared, but seeing him on stage was something else. He just exuded passion for music and connected with his audience. Maybe he connected with them a little too much, considering the situation with that girl, but she was far from your mind as you watched his fingers glide across his guitar. Eddie was born for this.

Corroded Coffin was in the middle of a six-week tour of different venues across Indiana. You weren't able to go to all of them without missing work, but when shows were close enough to home, you made the effort to be there.

They were wrapping up their set, with just the encore left, when Eddie spoke into the mic. "Thank you all for being here with us tonight. We hope we were able to rock your fuckin' worlds!" He's met with a chorus of cheers, widening the grin on his face. "I wanna introduce you all to someone incredibly special to me, who inspires all of the love songs I write." He waves you over and you bound across the stage into his open arms, beaming.

"This is my beautiful fiancée, Y/N. And see this?" He takes your hand and turns it so your diamond ring faces the audience. "Because of fans like you coming to see us, I was able to put this rock on her finger!" He plants a kiss on your lips with an exaggerated mwah! as the audience awws. It's hard to see individual faces, but everyone seems to be smiling. Everyone except for one woman.

She's in the front row, arms crossed over her body. She's in a tight red dress that lands just under her thighs. Her long blonde hair frames her scowling face and she's biting her lower lip as though she's trying to hold back tears.

That must be her, you think. That must be Eddie's "girlfriend." But you can't focus on her for too long, because Eddie grabs a chair for you to sit on while the band plays their encore. You're too enamored with Eddie and his performance to notice the pair of eyes that bore a hole in your head.

After the concert, you join the boys in their hotel room for pizza and snacks.

"You guys killed it!" you say as you take a cheesy slice. "The perfect combo of originals and covers. You had them in the palms of your hands!"

Jeff nods, his mouth full. "Thanks! Had a good crowd tonight, too."

"Hey, Y/N," Gareth teases, "didja see Eddie's girlfriend?" Eddie smacks the back of his head.

You laugh. "The blonde who looked like she wanted to murder me?"

"That's the one!"

Eddie puts his arm around you, sending tingles through your body. "Well, let's see if she shows up to our gig tomorrow. See if my good luck charm did the trick."

"Or, you know," you look up at him with puppy-dog eyes, "we could always try for that threesome."

You drive home the next morning after staying with Eddie. He normally shared the room with the rest of the band, but he'd rented an extra room so you two could...catch up. You didn't want to leave, but you also need to get to work. You spent the morning nestled into his arms while he kissed all over your face until the bedside clock warned that you had to go.

"Let me know if she shows up and you need me to kick her ass," you whisper into his lips as you say good-bye.

"Calm down, Muhammad Ali," Eddie kisses you against your car, cupping your cheek as he presses his plump lips to yours. "I'll be fine."

You reminisce about last night with your beautiful, wonderful fiancé until you arrive at work. You're so focused on the thought of him running his fingers over your body like his strums his guitar to notice the green sedan that's been following you since you left the hotel.

It's dark out by the time you leave work. You make your way to your car and unlock the driver's side door when you spot a piece of paper tucked under your windshield wipers. It's ripped carelessly from a spiral-bound notebook. You unfold it and gasp. Written on it in black ink are two words:

Die, Bitch

This has to be some kind of joke. Someone messing with you. Who would be unhinged enough to seriously threaten your life?

And then you remember. The girl at Eddie's show.

Your blood runs cold. The clock reads 9:07 PM, which means Corroded Coffin is on right now. You can't even call him.

"Fuck!" you yell to no one in particular. You look around and don't see anyone. Okay, you can do this. You just have to get home, lock yourself in your apartment, and wait until 10:30 when their set usually ends. Yeah, you'll just call the venue and ask to speak to Eddie, and he'll come right home. Perfect.

You turn on the car and take deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. You've only gone down the road before the low tire pressure light illuminates your dashboard. This always happens in the fall when the weather gets cooler, and you make a mental note to fill up your tires tomorrow.

A few blocks later, you hear a clunk coming from the front of your car.

"Oh, come on!" you groan, slamming your fists onto the steering wheel. You pull over and get out of your car to inspect your tires. Sure enough, the front right tire is completely flat. That never happens; you can at least make it back from work and to the gas station before they run out of air. But then you notice that the front left tire is dangerously low, too. And so are the the two back ones.

Did she...did she slash your tires?

You run the last mile home faster than you've ever run before, hair flying behind you. The night is chilly, but you're drenched in sweat from the sprint and the fear coursing through your blood. Blisters form on your feet but you push through the pain.

The lights coming from your apartment building have never looked so beautiful. It's a place where the plumbing backed up and the elevators were out of service more than they worked, but right now, it's the best thing you've ever seen. You dash up the stairwell, grateful that your place is only on the second floor. Your weary legs are nearly collapse under you as you turn your key in the lock.

"Hi, neighbor."

You spin around and see her, leaned up against the door of the apartment across from yours. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she's traded her dress for an inconspicuous sweater and pair of jeans, but it's definitely her. A sinister smile creeps across her face.

"Did you see the gift I left you?" she asks, walking toward you. "Or did it fall flat?" She cackles at her joke while you stay frozen, both fight and flight failing you.

"W-why are you doing this to me?" you finally manage. "What did I do to you?"

She narrows her brown eyes. "I show up to Eddie's shows. Every. Single. One." she spits venomously. "And you show up last night, act like you're fucking gracing us with your presence, showing off a ring that shouldn't even belong to you.

"Do you know what Eddie needs? Who he needs? He needs someone who supports him all the time, not just when it's convenient for her. He's gonna be famous one day, and when he realizes how many girls would do anything for him, he'll leave you in the dust where you belong," she sneers.

"Unfortunately, I don't have that kind of patience," she says calmly as she reaches into her pants pocket, pulling out a small pocketknife. "So here's what's gonna happen. You're going to end things with Eddie, or I'll slice your throat open and go back home like nothing ever happened." She gestures across the hall.

"You...live here?" you ask incredulously.

"Just moved in," she announces proudly, "but I've been keeping an eye on this building for vacancies since I first saw Corroded Coffin play. Y'know, Eddie shouldn't have his address listed in the WhitePages now that they're really taking off." She says this like she's helping, like she isn't threatening your life.

"Eddie's playing a gig right now," you say, though you're almost positive that she already knows this, "but he calls me every night after his show. I-I'll do it then."

She offers that evil smile again. "Perfect. Gives us time to rehearse what you'll say. And if you go off-script..." she presses the blade to your neck and cackles. "Now, open the door."

The phone rings at 10:40, and you snatch it from the receiver with breathtaking speed.

"H-Hello?" You feel the knife against your throat as she leans into hear what Eddie's saying to you.

"Hey, babe! Guess what?" You feel his excited energy through the phone and hope he can pick up on your terror. "She didn't show up. Looks like our plan worked!"

"T-that's great, Eds," you choke out, wincing as she overhears the conversation. She tilts your chin so that your eyes meet hers, and you watch her mouth, Say it. "But I'm breaking up with you."

"Haha, very funny," he says, and your heart sinks as you realize he's completely oblivious.

"No, I'm serious. You deserve better than me. And," you swallow thickly, "and I've been cheating on you."

There's silence on the other end of the line. You think he might've hung up until he exhales loudly and asks, "With who?"

"Doesn't matter," you repeat the lines she's fed you. "There's been more than one guy."

"Why are you telling me this now, Y/N?" His voice warbles, and your heart breaks knowing you're making him cry.

"I'm sorry," you respond, feeling tears well up in your own eyes, "but I don't love you anymore." And you hang up and burst into tears.

"There, there," she runs a cold hand through your hair, fingers catching on the knots that formed throughout the day. She tears through them, sending jolts of pain into your scalp. "You did the right thing, Y/N."

"Please, just leave me alone," you choke out. "I did what you asked."

She shakes her head. "You're not dumb, so I don't know why you're acting like you are." She grabs your elbow with her free hand and stands you up. "Go and pack your things. All your things. You're leaving tonight." You hesitate for a second and she raises the blade to your neck again. "I said GO!"

You shuffle into the room, still sobbing. You fling open a suitcase and start shoving clothes in haphazardly. She's next to you the whole time, watching your every move. After 30 minutes, you've packed as many belongings as you can into various pieces of luggage and piled them at the entryway.

"Now, one last thing," she says in an eerily soft voice. She takes your left hand, plucks off your engagement ring, and slides it on her own finger. She holds up her hand as the diamond catches the light. "Fits like a glove. Like it was meant to be."

You're about to throw up when there's a knock at the door. It can't be Eddie; his show was two hours from here.

"Who the fuck is that?" she hisses. She ticks the blade upwards and you feel the skin break slightly.

"I-I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I'll answer it and tell them to leave, okay?"

"Don't try anything, or that cut will be a lot deeper," she threatens.

You open the door slowly, just a crack, and see Jim Hopper standing in front of you.

"Y/N, Eddie just called me, said to get over here. Said something's wrong," he whispers. You see his eyes meet the trickle of blood creeping down your neck.

Help me, you mouth, and then quickly say, "I'm not interested in supporting the Hawkins PD." You close the door and pray that he got the message.

"Open this door!" he bellows. “Open the door, or I’ll break it down!”

The girl grabs your hair tight in her fist. “Did you call the police, you bitch?” Saliva gathers at the corners of her lips.

“N-no,” you cry, “Eddie must’ve called them after I hung up. I swear.”

She turns her attention back to the door to address the chief of police, never easing her grip on your locks. “You break down this door and you’ll find her in a pool of her own blood!”

You vaguely hear Hopper calling for backup through the pounding in your ears. I’m going to die, you think. I’m going to die right here in my home, where Eddie and I were supposed to start a family. She’s going to take it all away from me.

“It really is a shame it had to come to this,” she mumbles. “I’d hoped Eddie would see me at his shows and make me his. I dressed so he’d notice me, and apparently, he did.” She pauses for a moment, contemplating. “I bet it was you who told him to watch out for me. Because you know I’m a threat. You know I could steal him from you, and that terrifies you, doesn’t it?” She’s proud of herself, feeding her own ego.

You’re unsure whether it’s better to agree or argue, and you ultimately decide to say nothing. There isn’t anything that can help you now.

Another heavy knock on the door startles you from your thoughts. “Hawkins PD! Release the hostage, or we’re calling in the crisis team.” It’s not Hopper, but a different male officer, though you’re sure he’s still there.

She’s laughing now, and you only see pure malice in her eyes. “Fuck off,” she says, too quietly for them to hear. It’s meant for you.

The cop calls out twice more, and you hear him say something to the chief, though you can’t make out what it is.

“If you let her go, we can just take you down to the station. We don’t have to get anyone else involved,” Hopper tells her. “We don’t have to make this bigger than it needs to be.”

The girl bites down hard on her lower lip, drawing blood. “You see what you do? You couldn’t just leave Eddie alone, could you? This all could have been avoided if you weren’t so selfish.” Her hand still in your hair, she drags you over to the bedroom. Strands tear from your scalp. “There. Much quieter in here.”

She throws you on the floor, where you land with a smack. Your head hits the bed frame before you can get your hands out in front of you, and you yelp. A curtain of red falls over your left eye.

“Clumsy bitch,” she grumbles, pacing in front of the door.

She has to get tired eventually, you think. Just gotta wait it out.

She’s babbling on about her future with Eddie, what their wedding will look like, how adorable their children will be. That and the lightheadedness from losing blood is enough to make you sick. You feel the bile rising in your throat, but it stops when you spot something shiny underneath the bed.

Eddie’s handcuffs.

He used to just wear them as an accessory, but they’d been put to...other uses since you two had gotten together. They must’ve gotten kicked under the bed after you’d last used them.

A plan formulates in your head, though it’s hard to straighten your racing thoughts.

Wait until she’s sleeping...cuff her...run like hell.

You repeat the steps silently memorizing them as you did the lines to break up with Eddie.

Your clock shows that it’s just past midnight when you hear his voice.

“Y/N! Where is she?” he shouts at the officers, though you can’t make out their responses.

“Let her go!” he screams, fists hammering the door. “Just let her go!”

You’re trembling, desperate to be out of this room, to be held in his arms, to be away from the crazy woman who’s hell-bent on destroying you.

“Aw, your knight in shining armor showed up,” she taunts you now. “Wonder what he’ll think of my new ring. Think he’ll like it?” When you say nothing, she takes a sneakered foot and kicks you in the stomach. You curl up, shielding yourself from another blow. “I said, do you think he’ll like it.”

“Y-yes,” you say between clenched teeth. “I think he’ll love it.” You crane your neck slightly so you’re looking right at her. “What are you gonna do to me once you get him?” you ask softly, afraid for her answer.

“I’m gonna kill you,” she replies simply, as though it’s an ordinary response. “I’m gonna kill you and make him watch. Show him what happens when he makes the wrong choice, so he doesn’t do it again.” She flicks her knife and you shudder, but you don’t miss the yawn that escapes her mouth.

Keep her talking, you think hazily, but don’t talk too much. Don’t give yourself away.

“What made you go for Eddie?” you ask. “Why him?”

“We’re soulmates. I just...feel it.” Her eyes dance as she talks about him, the way he shows off for her on stage, the songs he writes that she knows have to be about her. She goes on and on, and the only thought keeping your stomach from souring completely is that she’s wearing herself out.

Hours pass, and the sun is starting to rise before her eyelids flutter as she lays against the bedroom door. The pinkish streaks streams through the blinds and you know it’s only a matter of moments before the bright light wakes her fully. You listen to her soft snores as you slowly reach for the cuffs, allowing yourself a tiny smile, a small moment of joy, as you grasp the metal between your weak fingers.

You snap one around her left wrist. You have to work fast but gently, strategically, to get the other around the doorknob. It won’t hold her back for long, but hopefully just long enough that you can get to safety.

As the second cuff clicks closed, her eyes snap open. “W-wha--” she starts, and you yank the door open and fly through the living room.

"I’m here I’m here it’s me!” you cry out, flinging yourself into the first person you see. That person happens to be Chief Hopper, who brings his gun down to his side to envelop you in his arms. You feel him breathe a sigh of relief, tension leaving his body.

“We’ve got you,” he murmurs. Someone throws a blanket over your shoulders and guides you towards an EMT. A swarm of uniformed officers, maybe a SWAT team, rushes into the apartment to arrest your assailant.

“Oh my god,” you hear Eddie breathe, making his way through the crowd of people until he reaches you. “Baby, I am so sorry.”

“‘S not your fault,” you sob into his chest, crumbling to the ground and taking him with you.

“Yes, it is,” he’s crying now, too, “I paraded you out on stage, showed you off, instead of just going to the cops in the first place.” He takes your hands in his, a puzzled look crossing his face when he can’t feel your ring.

“She took it,” you tell him numbly. “She’s wearing it right now.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” he promises, but you shake your head.

“Don’t care about that,” you heave, trying to catch your breath but finding it impossible. And then the world goes black.

You wake up in a hospital bed, machines whirring and beeping around you. You stir and almost immediately feel a hand on your arm.

“Y/N? You awake?” Eddie’s voice floats past you, music to your ears. You smile as a headache pulses through your temples. You touch your forehead gingerly to find a bandage covering the wound you acquired last night.

“I’m awake, Eds,” you croak.

“Oh, thank god,” he leans in to kiss you, laying a hand on your stomach, but he pulls back as soon as he notices your grimace.

“She...she kicked me there,” you explain, and his face falls.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His voice shakes and his hands tremble.

“Where is she?” Dread flows through you as you realize she could’ve escaped, could still be out there, waiting for you.

“Locked up, no bail,” his doe eyes meet yours. “She won’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore,” he promises.

Your tears are those of joy, and he holds you close, letting you cry. You’re staining his shirt but neither of you care.

“It’s over, sweetheart,” he promises. “You’re safe.”

Safe.

A word, a feeling, a state of being you’ll never take for granted again.

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #requests

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heavenlyeros · 2 months

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fat cat !

a valentine's gift. i am slowly working on a very cute shop update but until then i am trying to edit slightly older things, so i bring you this egg ! fat cat was my second attempt at making the polymer clay look more like air dry clay but i got a bit too adventurous after the neat outcome of my previous attempt, so i rushed several of the steps and the effect really didn't work as well. lesson learned (:

i added a little photoshoot i took of in game fat cat for anyone who has not seen one before ! come to the final fantasy, we have cute blob animals and tragedy ! (also mount edition because i don't know how to screenshot minion fat cat with leggy? they always sit down in gpose? i am still very new at this. so cute though ...)

big thank you for all of the lovely comments and tags and messages. i am very overwhelmed by internet in general right now and only showing up to share art sometimes in hopes it brings people joy. i know i am very behind on thanking everyone individually and responding to messages but know they are all so appreciated and mean so much. life and health just take priority because the horrors do be persisting. i love you all. i do have some exciting updates for everyone who originally showed up for my illustration work and is trudging through all these wonky animals i've been sculpting: i think i have found a drawing set up that will allow me to work for more than half an hour without intense pain. i found an affordable refurbished tablet that i can lie in bed with instead of using the wacom at my desk. i haven't really been able to draw in over a year because my body has been getting worse and worse, so i am so incredibly excited and have so many ideas in mind ! thank you all so much for sticking with me through it all. the pain is forever but so is my determination to draw blorbos.

#final fantasy #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #fat cat #cat #polymer clay #sculpture #art #fimo #final fantasy xiv fanart

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sybilhallward · 10 months

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if you have chronic pain you're disabled

Hi anon. You sent this ask in March, after I'd written in the tags of a post that I didn't know if I was allowed to call myself disabled because of my fibromyalgia. I remember this vividly, because I've been thinking about it ever since. My biggest struggle with fibro has always been allowing myself to recognize I have specific needs and justifications for some of my "deficiencies", and this was no different: how could I call myself disabled when there's people who are missing limbs or cannot move? I must just be lazy and entitled! Thing is, despite having full control over a technically perfectly functioning body, I don't have the same options as abled people in my day to day life: my neck moves, but 80% of the time it hurts; my legs work, but if I stand up still for more than an hour I need to sit for the next three and nothing really helps my muscles relax; I can live my life fairly normally, but for a couple of days every month I need to take 2-3 naps because I cannot otherwise keep my eyes open; my hands work, but they start hurting so easily that I've never been able to actually build up their strength. This, specifically, has impacted my life pretty drastically: I've stopped playing the violin partly because at first I couldn't stretch my pinky in the correct position on the fingerboard, and then even holding the instrument up became painful. I've stopped playing tennis because my wrist screamed with every impact. My biggest joy in life has always been writing, but for the last few years I've barely done it... there's a variety of reasons, but chief amongst them is the fact that nowadays I can only hold a pen for about 20 minutes before my hand gets enveloped in white-hot flame, and using a computer took most of writing's magic away, for me. These last few days I've realised I might never again play an instrument unless I allow myself to be extremely patient with my limits, and that singing is really the only way i can painlessly make music. These thoughts are sort of breaking me at the moment. Of course, I don't want to feel and present myself only as a victim for my whole life, but the first step in taking control of my life and trying is realizing I won't have as easy a time as able-bodied people: when I got my diagnosis I had been avoiding all sports except swimming for years, because I thought I was just bad and whiny when trying anything else. After realizing I had a real problem, though, I started doing pilates to slowly build up my strength and now I can do things I thought I could never do! I can walk long distances, carry some weights, play table tennis and table soccer with friends at parties... My life is so much better now that I recognize and accomodate for my limitations! So... yeah. I am disabled. Less than some individuals in this world, but also much more than some other. And that's not bad. Thank you, anon. Happy disability pride month!

#vane blogging #chronic pain #chronic illness #fibromyalgia #chronic fatigue #spoonie #disability pride month #disability month #disability #disability pride

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hyenahunt · 12 days

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Obbligato: The Punishment of Kaname Tojo - 9

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring, two years ago

Characters: Tatsumi, Kaname

Proofreading: Remi (JP) & honeyspades (ENG)

Translation: Peace

Tatsumi: We are mirrors of one another, kindred souls.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: At the same time, on the stage of Reimei Academy's "Third Auditorium"

Tatsumi: "My beloved peers of Reimei Academy, thank you for coming."

"I, Tatsumi Kazehaya, have something of great importance to tell you all today."

Kaname: ......

Tatsumi: (Whispering) Hm... They don't seem particularly pleased, though I expected as much.

The Special Students don't seem to like how I’m speaking on my own at the moment. If it wasn't for your persuasion, HiMERU-san, I don't believe any of them would have shown up.

Kaname: I didn't really persuade them, I just gave them money.

Or rather, I gave them the job of gathering here as an audience, with a promise of receiving more concessions and such for their future work.

The time for compassion and persuasion has long passed, Tatsumi-senpai.

Tatsumi: Not so. I'm certain that anyone who isn't a Special Student must feel sympathetic — look at everyone who's come who won't be getting a cent out of it.

Kaname: That's because they're still expecting great things from you. They have hope you might be able to change this hellhole of a school.

Tatsumi: ......

Kaname: Anyway, let's stop chit-chatting and return to the topic at hand. The money I tossed around will be a waste otherwise.

Kaname: ... In the end, I wasn't as beloved as you were.

Reimei Academy's Top Idol. It feels like a position I just bought rather than earned. The academy's higher-ups would give me plenty of money...

And using that, I simply got to where I am today. But in the end… no one, not a single person, loved me the way they did you.

Do you hate me for learning such dirty tricks, Tatsumi-senpai?

Tatsumi: Of course not. In fact, I believe that knowledge must be your strength — I respect you for doing what I could not.

Kaname: You really do speak from the heart. Don't ever become like me, senpai.

Remain as pure as you are in this moment.

Better yet, I'll do all I can to ensure that you do.

I've made up my mind. Maybe I am an idiot, but in my own stupid way I've thought desperately of what I could do and chosen my own path.

I want to die for your ideology.

With you as a model for sainthood, I'll become a bit of a better person than I am now.

Tatsumi: I am not a saint, however...

If someone believes in me, if they expect something of me, then I shall act as they wish. Though it would be disrespectful to myself — though it is most certainly a sin to the body as a vessel of life...

If it would make others even a little bit happier, then I will gladly wear a crown of thorns.

Amen.

Tatsumi: "— Students of Reimei Academy."

"Are you happy right now?"

"I would like each of you to put your hand to your heart and truly give my question some thought. Are you satisfied with the life you've lived thus far? Are you lacking in something? Do you feel as if you've experienced misfortune?"

"No matter your answer, I ask that you listen to my announcement until the end."

"I have decided that HiMERU-san and I shall form a unit from today on, for the sake of bringing a little more happiness to the Academy.

"Fufu. Those of us in Reimei Academy might not be too familiar with such a concept, of course..."

"However, the concept is more normalized within another long standing idol training school, Yumenosaki Academy."

"In short, an idol unit is exactly as it implies: rather than doing things individually, he and I shall be performing them as a group."

"A 'unit' shares a common destiny. They are alike to a family, company, or even a nation."

Tatsumi: "We are mirrors of one another, kindred souls."

"As we move together from hereon, all that we earn will be distributed fairly among our members."

"Those who have previously joined me in the catacombs will understand what I mean when I say that."

"However, those who are Special Students may not be as aware of this arrangement. In Reimei Academy, our rewards are based on how well we do individually; it's a very result-focused system."

"I'd like to ask that all Special Students adhere to this arrangement from here on. Our unit shall not allow any one person to monopolize wealth nor to run wild on their own."

"In doing so, we shall seek a joyous future where one and all can live together fairly."

Tatsumi: "... I see there's some pushback. You may be asking yourself, ‘Why should I work for others when I can simply work for myself? Why should they reap the rewards I sow?’"

"However, this is the best way forward. Let us say, as an example, that you make a mistake or incur an injury and can no longer work."

"Or rather than earning money, you find yourself falling into debt."

"Our unit would never abandon anyone to such a fate."

"By taking responsibility on behalf of the individual affected, we will compensate for their losses and ensure that no one falls victim to circumstances outside of their control."

Tatsumi: "The present day idol industry is on a decline. As a result, there are numerous pitfalls that can cause one to fall to ruin; we'd like to support one another in such times of despair, to overcome them."

"No, we absolutely must support one another if we wish to survive. Unfortunate as it is, we have already been driven to such a point."

"I'm sure some of you have already realized that by now."

Tatsumi: "This is Hell. We aren't able to live as we once did, not when the end is nigh."

"It is already so difficult to breathe — and if you allow your attention to slip for even a moment, you face miserable repercussions immediately."

Kaname: " — We wish to change that."

"From this moment on, we are inviting you all to form a unit with us."

"Through a simple process, you will be welcomed immediately as one of ‘us’."

Tatsumi: "And finally, the most important point: all are welcome to join us, whether you are a Special Student or not."

"Unfortunately, as it stands... We, who are Special Students, and those who are not, dislike each other immensely."

"I'm certain that there will be a great many who won't wish to work together."

"However... If you can, please swallow your doubts and walk with us. I firmly believe this is the only path towards a happier future."

"Ideally speaking, we'd like to make every student in Reimei Academy part of our unit — and in doing so, have a truly fair and just school."

"All would work, and all would reap the rewards sown equally."

"At present, you gain only a little by stepping on the backs of others so arrogantly — it's a deplorable practice, so let's stop it."

"If it continues, then the disparity will never disappear. If we do not strive to create an impartial environment, then there will always be those who are fated to be trampled on."

Tatsumi: "I don't wish to witness such a sight any longer."

[ ☆ ]

✦✦✦✦✦

← prev ✦ all ✦ next →

#enstars #ensemble stars #enstars translation #hyenahunttl #s: obbligato #tatsumi kazehaya #kaname tojo

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moonliched · 1 month

Note

hi moon!!!!!

i am head over HEELS for ur mer fic, as much as i love the boys im somehow more in love w ur yn (they’re so PRETTYYYYYYYY)

their design is absolutely top tier, and i was wondering if you had any headcanons or designs for their guardian?? we’ve seen what somebody who’s half human and half cool fish person looks like, and i’m so curious what aspects of their non-human parent yn didn’t inherit hahaha

thank you so much for such an incredible piece, and i hope you’re doing well!!!!!!!!

hi hi! eheh i also have a soft spot for my mer Y/N (meryn is my private name for them ashdjfjdj) happy to hear you're enjoying too☺️💗 they're so fun to draw, though my fnaf obsession overshadows that lol

i've actually reached the stage in my fic drafts where i need at least a semi-clear description of their guardian! though no one will get to read it for a while😅 i may draw them sometime. here's what i've got:

their guardian is humanoid, but we'd be able to clock them instantly as non-human. they have hair like us, but it's more akin to straggly spines and the part of the hair close to the body is 'alive' - as in it would hurt to cut, like when you trim your nails too short. the overall mass isn't large, but the individual strands are thick and slightly squidgy and can be styled. their brows and lashes are very sparse. they have hand and feet webbing, which Y/N has inherited. their skin has a significant grey hue and is a different texture to that of a human, something close to scaled. their eyes are yellow and they don't have nails. instead, the scaled skin hardens towards the tips of the fingers and toes. like Y/N, they go through a quarterly cycle of growing and shedding a second set of new teeth while keeping their adult teeth permanently. they don't have molars, most of their teeth are pointed or serrated. i picture them as having a wide mouth, white hair and an eye shape that resembles Y/N's, though their body is more angular.

there are other things that aren't rly appearance-based - they have a huge lung capacity, and babies can swim pretty much from birth (not Y/N though🥲.) but yeah, that's what i got so far! not everything here will make it in the story, but it's useful as a base to draw from when i need to describe something.

thank you sm for the lovely message and i hope you enjoy future stuff in my fic💕 and have a nice weekend!

#ask #There Are Many Benefits

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mitamicah · 4 months

Note

Some asks for NYE ^^

What are your favorite things/experiences that happened in your life because of Käärijä?

Anything new you learned about yourself this year and would like to share?

What things/experiences are you looking forward to in the new year?

yay for asks

What are your favorite things/experiences that happened in your life because of Käärijä?

Up there with my favourite things/experiences that happened because of Käärijä is definitely that my confidence had increased to the point that I felt brave enough to do things I never in my life thought I'd do be it small things like actually looking at myself nude and taking in how my body looks without being disgusted to medium sized risks like walking on stage performing a cover of a finnish song in costume and full choreo and keep performing it time and time again to every karaoke event I go to, to the big one being travelling alone for the first time ever meeting up with fellow kääryleet at the stockholm and berlin shows.

Btw that's another thing that is amongst my favourite things about Käärijä: the freaking fandom is amazing, I love you wonderfully kind, talented, gorgeous individuals with all my heart and I am so happy I got to meet some of you in person <33

Anything new you learned about yourself this year and would like to share?

I learned that I seem pretty talented with mascara because the amount of time I have had professionals doubting whether I've started t or not is hilarious x'D

Also I didn't thought my hair was able to be green (since the only other time I tried dyeing it it faded out quickly) - I was wrong x'D

Thirdly I've learned that I am actually okay with getting tattooed? Like I hate needles but the tattoo needle doesn't bother me? True, it stings and can be uncomfortable but I actually had a stronger reaction to getting a drop in my arm for the pre-op baseline tests in October than at both my tattoo appointments x'D

What things/experiences are you looking forward to in the new year?

I am looking forward to going to Finland/Helsinki in March and May :'D To see the mural and Vantaa, to live in the kääbnb, to watch JO live possibly dressed as häärijä and then later watch the man himself live in May :'D

Oh and I am looking forward to meeting baby boos and kääryleet in the queue again with more stickers to gift and hopefully some keychains to JO if I am lucky enough to meet them in Malmö (where I have early access) and then in return if I am lucky (again) get Bojan to write 'Are You' so I can that tattooed

I went down a tangent sorry x'D

Speaking of tattoos I am looking forward to treating me some more tattoos :3

And last I want to mention is that I look forward to around May when I have been half a year on t and I can start the conversations about my dream of top surgery :'D

Thank you so much for this question and sorry for ranting xD

#I have a lot of things to say it seems :'D #so many things to be grateful of käärijä for #so many good things coming next year #aaaaa #replies

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somedaylazysomeday · 2 years

Text

Petition

Negan x fem!reader, non-apocalypse AU

Am I working on anything with Negan? No. Am I reading anything about Negan? No. Am I into the Walking Dead right now? No. But my brain decided this was the dream I needed last week, and wouldn't shut up until I wrote it down. Enjoy!

Rating: NC-17, Explicit, NSFW, Lemon, etc. Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,600

Warnings: grumpy Negan, use of a sex toy, fingering, shower sex, creampie, accidental voyeurism (kinda).

Masterlist

---

Negan blew out a breath, raking a hand through the thick darkness of his hair. He was frustrated and you could see why. The bathroom fan had been broken since you moved into the modest apartment, and this was the third maintenance worker who had tried to come fix the problem. None of them had even managed to diagnose what was actually wrong.

Still, you knew Negan's frustration wasn't directed at the maintenance worker. Too bad the other man didn't know that.

"Sorry, sir," he apologized, wearing his nerves on his young face. "I've checked everything I can think of. I've checked the notes from the last few people who tried to investigate your complaints, but I just-"

"Don't worry about it, honey," you interrupted kindly, patting the man on the shoulder. "You tried. We'll just keep trying to figure it out."

"Thank you, ma'am," the maintenance worker told you.

"What kind of bullshit is that?" Negan complained. "We're gonna get mold."

You shrugged. "We'll leave the door cracked open and they'll work to find a better long-term solution. It'll be okay, Negan."

He scowled, though it smoothed as you bent to drop a kiss on his head.

"Thank you for doing your best," you told the maintenance worker, sending him an encouraging smile. "I need to go shower and change, but let us know when someone is available to try again."

"I will, ma'am," the man said, standing up and nodding at you. "Have a nice night."

You squeezed Negan's shoulder as a silent reminder to be nice even after you were gone. It wasn't the poor maintenance worker's fault that the fan was broken. Besides, you and Negan were only there for as long as it took to close on the house you were buying. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter a bit whether the bathroom fan was broken. It didn't belong to you.

With that, you left the two men in the living room, retreating through the bedroom into the master bath. You had been half-joking, but you did think leaving the door open a crack would be enough to keep the worst of the steam from accumulating.

You heard the low rumble of Negan’s voice still speaking to the maintenance worker - unmuffled by the whirr of a bathroom fan - but you couldn’t pick out individual words. You didn’t really need to hear what he was saying, but you hoped Negan was being reasonably nice.

As soon as the water was warm, you stripped off the clothes you had worn for work and stepped into the spray. You had closed the sliding door behind you, but the sound of Negan wolf-whistling at you was clearly audible as he strode into the bathroom with a devilish grin on his handsome face.

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. You and Negan had been together longer than anyone would have expected, and any shyness you may have once felt had now disappeared entirely. He had more appreciation for your body than anyone you had ever met, and you couldn’t deny that it was an ego boost. For such a good-looking man to find you as attractive as you found him was inarguably flattering.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. Instead, you just lifted your chin in his direction, asking, “Is there something I can help you with?”

Negan’s grin only widened as he started to undress. “Matter of fact, there is, darlin’. I’ve got a big problem for you to take care of right here.”

You glanced down at his waist, but shook your head. “If only I wasn’t having this trouble with my bathroom fan, I would be able to see your problem. I might even have been able to fix it. What a shame…”

Your faux-mournful sigh was cut short as Negan opened the barely fogged glass door and joined you. “Let me give you a closer look.”

The laugh that spilled from you was one you couldn’t even begin to fight against, especially when Negan wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you toward him for a deep kiss.

When the two of you finally broke apart, he shook his head at you. “If you’re so bothered by the damn fan, why did you tell the guy not to worry about it?”

“He couldn’t have fixed it and I didn’t want to spend hours waiting while he tried,” you explained, running your hands across Negan’s chest and dropping a playful bite on the edge of his shoulder. “I wanted some time with you.”

“That so?” Negan asked, arching an eyebrow as he reached behind you. When he pulled his hand back, your favorite vibrator was held between his fingers. “Seems like you were pretty determined to take care of things all alone.”

“Oh, no, I keep that one in here,” you explained.

Negan managed to look simultaneously intrigued and horrified. “You mean that little twerp could have seen-?”

“Hey!” you chided. “Be nice to the poor man. Bad enough he had to deal with you when he was here. You don’t need to be rude even after he’s gone.”

“Mm-hmm,” Negan hummed skeptically. “Was that why you were being so nice to him? Calling him ‘honey’? Thanking him so sweetly? Telling him not to worry about anything? You’re lucky I’m such a confident man or I would think about being jealous.”

“You’re an extremely confident man,” you agreed. “Which is why I’m sure you wouldn’t have minded me being nice if it had gotten him to help us.”

You yelped and squirmed away from Negan’s pinching fingers as he caught the teasing note in your voice. “For future reference, I don’t want you flirting with other people, even if it is going to get us something we want.”

“Fine, fine,” you agreed, laughing. “Now, did you come in here just to talk?”

Negan’s eyes darkened and he pulled you into another kiss, this one interrupted only by a slight buzzing noise that made you wonder if the fan was trying to turn back on. Instead, when you pulled away, you found your vibrator whirring in Negan’s hand.

“What do you say to a little fun?”

“Hmm, an extra orgasm? Let me think about it…”

Your laugh turned into a groan as Negan ran the tip of the vibrator through your folds, zeroing in on your clit with the precision of long practice. You were already so close to him that wrapping your hands around his biceps for support seemed utterly natural.

Negan pressed the toy between your lips, aiming to swipe the angled tip directly over your most sensitive place. Your head fell forward with a groan as he succeeded.

“C’mon, doll,” Negan urged. You could feel his voice vibrating from where your forehead was planted against his chest. “Look at me. You know how much I love watching you fall apart for me.”

You obliged after a long moment of gathering your wits, tipping your head back until he could see your face.

“Perfect, perfect girl,” Negan complimented gently, running the vibrator through your lips over and over again. “Think you could come for me like this?”

“Y-yes,” you agreed breathily, catching the way he had started lingering over your clit at the top of every stroke. You just needed a little more stimulation and you would be there.

“Good. Do it.”

As he gave the command, Negan pressed the tip of the vibrator against your clit again and turned up the power. You shuddered in his arms, your body clenching over and over around nothing as you came in long waves.

When you finally pushed his hand away, your knees threatened to buckle, but Negan held you against him. With one hand pressed to the small of your back, Negan turned off the vibrator and replaced it on the small shelf where you normally kept it.

“Ready for another round yet, doll?”

You nodded and Negan’s hand crept between your legs, dipping into your core and drawing out fingertips soaked in the aftermath of your orgasm. He gave a groan of his own, darting his tongue out to lick at the proof that you were indeed ready for another round.

“Looks like you are,” Negan told you, hands gripping your waist. “Tastes like you are.”

“Good, because I-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as he settled you against the wall. Negan looked concerned and you hurried to assure him, “Cold tiles.”

With the concern gone, Negan looked positively impish. “Bet I could get you warmed up again, darlin’.”

“I’m count- counting on it,” you stuttered out, briefly losing your train of thought as Negan gripped his length and began teasing his head through your folds.

His only answer was a chuckle. As soon as he had lined himself up, he began pushing himself into you.

The stretch was familiar, a sense of homecoming in it, but as Negan worked himself deeper, he hit a section of you still tight from your recent orgasm. You gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into his tanned skin as you exclaimed his name.

Negan paused. “Everything okay?”

“I- You feel so… Keep going.”

Negan watched you for a beat, seemingly waiting for you to decide whether you really wanted him to continue. When you didn’t ask him to stop, he nodded and ducked his head to capture your lips with his own. At the same time, he pulled you sharply against him and thrust as deep into you as he could get.

You shouted into his mouth and Negan groaned. The time it took for your bodies to acclimate to your new position was spent locked in a battle for domination of your kiss. When Negan tweaked your nipple, you whimpered into his mouth and nipped at his lip in retaliation.

Negan pulled away with a gasp. “Gotta move, doll. You ready?”

“Yes,” you assured him, half-panting. “Fuck me, Negan.”

His eyes darkened and he took you at your word, thrusting into you so hard you knew there would be bruises. Who cared? The only one to see them would be Negan, and he would kiss each one better.

“Put your legs around my waist, darlin’,” Negan told you. “Need a little more.”

For the first time, you hesitated. “Are you sure I won’t be too heavy?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” he teased, slapping your thigh. “C’mon.”

You raised that leg and wrapped it around his hips, biting your lip at the way he moved inside of you with the motion. Before you could gather the nerve to jump up, Negan grabbed your supporting leg behind the knee and pulled it up to join the other.

You let out a breath - only a little shaky - and smiled. “I wasn’t sure that was going to work.”

“I knew we would be fine,” Negan bragged, grin turning sharp. “You should be worried what I’m gonna do to you now that you’re up here.”

“Bring it on,” you dared, squealing as he teasingly bit at your neck.

He planted your upper back against the cold tiles of the shower wall, hips pistoning between your thighs at a faster speed. The onslaught of sensation left you reeling for a few thrusts, but you joined in before long. At the apex of every stroke, you tightened your legs around him, urging him to thrust even harder.

The heat began to build in you again - slowly at first after your recent orgasm, but gaining speed. Small noises fell from your mouth, fucked from your depths as Negan worked to overwhelm you.

One of Negan’s hands disappeared from your ass, reappearing a moment later with the vibrator. He deposited the toy between you, watching from under hooded eyes as you caught it. “Use it, doll. I’m close, and I need to see you come again before I do.”

You tipped your head back, panting open-mouthed at the filthiness of the image he had created in your mind. With shaking fingers, you turned on the small vibrator and pressed it to your clit. Instantly, your inner muscles locked down, overwhelmed by the increased level of sensation.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Negan urged, low and insistant.

You whined, angling the vibrator until it lined up with your swollen lips. You pressed it between them, reeling from the way it teased at your clit, but slid it downward until the angled head teased at Negan’s shaft as he worked between your legs.

“Fuck,” he bit out, pressing the vibrator away from himself.

The motion settled it more firmly against you and you instantly began shuddering with the waves of your orgasm. The vibrator fell from your convulsing fingers, clattering loudly to the floor of the shower. Meanwhile, Negan snarled, burying his face in your chest as he managed a last few thrusts. He shoved himself deep as he released wave after wave of cum into the depths of you.

When he finally stilled in your arms, Negan let you slide down his body until you were standing, weak-kneed, on the shower floor. His softening length was pulled from you with the motion and you immediately began to drip with your combined pleasure.

You stood together, supported by each other as you caught your breath.

Eventually, you retrieved the still-buzzing vibrator and shut it off. As if cued by the cessation of the noise, a loud banging came from the wall beside the shower. “Knock it off, you motherfuckers!”

You stared at the wall, aghast, but Negan only thumped it soundly, calling, “If we were fucking your mother, it would have been louder!”

Semi-muffled curses came from the other side of the wall and Negan turned to look at you, the irritation on his face softened by the post-coital warmth in his expression. “Guess he didn’t appreciate the free show we put on.”

“We really need to get that fan fixed,” you insisted, face warm with embarrassment.

“Nah, fuck him,” Negan told you firmly. “Miserable piece of shit. Still,” he said, pulling you closer, “I can’t wait to get you in a house of our own.”

“It’ll be nice to have our own space,” you started, but Negan interrupted.

“We’re gonna christen every square inch of that place. I’m gonna fuck you on the shower floor, bend you over the kitchen counter, maybe even hit up that back deck if we can manage to without the neighbors seeing it…”

You shook your head, but Negan’s dirty suggestions were starting to wreak havoc on your sensitive body. With your internal muscles clenching at the thought of christening an entire house with Negan, certain things were happening faster than expected.

“Negan, please,” you pled, an edge of desperation in your voice. “We need to stop talking about this.”

“Wha- Why?” he asked, face dawning with understanding a moment later. His fingers dipped between your legs, eyebrows shooting upward when he found the mixture of cum and juices dripping down the insides of your thighs. Instead of stopping, though, he grinned at you. “Seems like someone’s ready for round two.”

“Fuck off!” your unpleasantly sharp-hearing neighbor insisted. “Quit it, you nymphomaniacs!”

Negan reached past you and shut off the water, scooping you up into his arms and nudging the shower door open a moment later. “C’mon, doll. If we play our cards right, the whole damn building’s gonna sign a petition to get our fan fixed.”

---

A/N - As I said, I'm not sure why I needed to post this, just that I needed to. Thanks for reading! You can find other works on my masterlist.

#the walking dead #fics #the walking dead fic #negan #twd negan #negan x reader #negan x you #reader insert #rating: nc17 #nc 17 #nc17 #spicy #smut #lemon #non apocalypse au #modern au #mind the warnings

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psykoticrefuge · 1 year

Text

Trans stuff:

So my doc follows wpath standards and it's honestly frustrating. Cause when we started all this and grabbed my baseline hormone levels, I'm a heavy T producer. Not extremely high but we'll above the average for a cis male. I was a hairy boy, this made/makes sense.

I got my refill of sublinguals over a month ago and knew that we were gonna discuss injections this most recent appointment and so I changed it up how I was taking them. I added an extra pill in the middle of the night. Which brought me to 8mg a day, 2mg every 6 hours, and let me tell you.. I felt great.

Had a noticeable surge in breast tissue development, libido came back more (which helped with atrophy issues), and just mentally I was doing a LOT better. When we did blood work I didn't think far enough ahead to drop the 4th pill a couple days in advanced and so the levels were "high" and comment was made about that.

I do wanna pause and say, it's really hard to get a read from my doc. He's made some positive remarks about transition but also there is almost a layer of a condescending tone during appointments. My wife has gone with for in person visits and agrees it feels off.

Anyways, still got to go on injections (Yay!) and I know I'm not a doctor. But my organ function was perfect. Liver, kidneys, thyroid, heart, all that, was within the appropriate levels. So it makes sense to me that if my cis body is producing higher T then it would be more in line with its base functionality to have higher E as well. Anecdotal and blood evidence supported this. Wife says I was doing better and I felt better. As a severely traumatized AuDHDer this is rare for me. I've had depression/anxiety since my teens and am currently working through an incredibly rough burnout.

The point?

I wish transition stuff was more in the hands of the individuals rather than doctors. I'm thankful he's there to read and interpret my blood work results but it sucks that we have to fit ourselves into these standards of care rather than forge our own path. It's why I support DIY and truly believe that HRT should be over the counter. All of it. All. Of. It.

Because of money stuff I haven't been able to get my injections yet and the pharmacy said it's on backorder so that's been a fun scramble to try and find it. Because of this I'm still on my 6mg a day and just, I can feel it. I can feel that difference in me. My mood has been lower (lot of extenuating factors tbh) my drive has gone back down, and in general I feel.. worse. Not bad bad worse but, noticeable.

And I can't help but relate the whole thing to disability justice and the Healthcare for All fight. We may not be doctors but we live in our bodies every day and we know our bodies best. (Also neurodivergent justice, like it's just so connected! >.<) If a patient feels good/better and organ function levels reflect no worries, we should be able to have a say even if other levels are "outside standard deviation". We should have a say no matter what, but you get what I mean.

It makes me sad/mad that the Hirschfeld institute was destroyed and all that research with it. So much was lost. Most of our data on feminization comes from post menopausal cis women.. trans bodies are different! And being the target of the far right (more connectivity: also being disabled I'm a double target) it's just.. *sigh* this will turn into a completely different post if I continue this route.

HRT should be over the counter and medical patients deserve a greater say in their care. If you've made it this far, thank you for reading. If you're cis, please think about what I've said when you vote or when you join us in the fight for liberation. Our struggles are not that far from each other.

Peace, Panache, and Pancakes,

Rivr

#trans #transgender #trans woman #hormone replacement therapy #trans rights #disabled #disability justice #lgbtqiia+#neurodivergent #trans stuff #universal healthcare #mtf #nonbinary #personal experience #trans pride #lgbtqiia+ pride #lgbt pride

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dumfanting · 2 years

Text

Same Heart ch 15: A Distant Echo

AO3 Link

Rating: M- Mature

Warnings- loss of bodily autonomy, loss of limbs, prisoner of war, extreme body modifications, body horror, ptsd, nightmares, death, Crosshair is an asshole

Word Count: 6013!

At 6,013 words, this individual chapter is longer than the entirety of “A Common Sense”! I hope you’re comfortable, this one’s a beast. I’m going to take a little break from writing after this, it took a lot out of me! A big thank you to @kaminocasey for being my beta reader, and the biggest thanks to you all for reading! Every single comment, tag, reblog, all of it is the gas that keeps this train running and I cannot express how grateful I am for all the support this story has gotten. And don’t worry, there’s plenty more to come! ETA: ‘Captain Reg’ comes from @superiorsniper, thanks for reminding me!

F! Reader/ Echo

The steam clears, and you can’t help but scream.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed between when the medical shuttle returned to base on Anaxes and when Bortuse tells you that Rex needs you for the next mission briefing. You feel nauseous, but ignore it. After a quick goodbye to everyone, you leave the medical center and make your way to the briefing room. The door slides open as you approach, and you can see Rex, General Skywalker, and the Batch are already gathered inside. Knowing everyone is waiting on you makes your face heat up a little, but you don’t acknowledge anything and instead stand in the small space between Crosshair and Wrecker. Rex begins speaking.

He outlines for you and the General the important parts of the cyber center mission. After you, Cody, and Kix left, he, Jesse, and the others were able to take over an outpost, then found the cyber center. After taking down a lot of droids, he and Tech were able to get into the building as Hunter, Wrecker, Jesse, and Crosshair fought off the new wave of droids that were attacking. He says that Tech was able to boost the signal they had been following, and after a little bit of work, could convert the signal into something audible. Rex takes a second to breathe, then continues. Apparently the signal wasn’t coming from a program. After Tech made some adjustments to the audio, Rex was able to, despite the distortion, hear a voice repeating “CT-1409” on loop.

You feel your hands go partially numb. It’s not possible.

“It’s Echo,” Rex says.

You can’t miss how he, Hunter, and the General glance at you when he says this.

“I fully believe that he survived the explosion at The Citadel, the Seps have abducted him and they’re using his knowledge of my tactics against us,” Rex continues.

“Echo is dead, Rex. Fives saw it happen, and so did you! Did you forget about when he told me?” You feel your face go warm when you realize you’ve said that out loud, but you maintain your composure. Rex is about to speak when he’s interrupted.

“‘Ang on, wasn’ that five guy the one that tried to take out the chancellor?” Wrecker asks.

“ARC Trooper CT-5555, deceased after an attempted attack on Chancellor Palpatine, that is correct,” Tech says, tapping away at his damn datapad like usual. You take a deep breath while closing your eyes, balling your trembling hands into fists in an attempt to mask your emotions, and the thick material of your gloves makes an audible creaking sound. However, General Skywalker must have sensed your anger, as he gives you a warning look.

“Fives did no such thing,” you say, doing a fair job of keeping your voice steady. “He told me so himself, and I've never doubted him.”

“The official report-“ Tech starts to say, but you shut him up with a glare.

Crosshair speaks up while rolling his eyes at you. “Got what he deserved if you ask me.”

Without warning, and before you’re able to stop yourself, you automatically turn towards Crosshair and slap him backhanded across the face, hard enough to make him stumble. He clenches his jaw, but does not retaliate, though his shock is very clear. Before anyone else can really react to this aside from a few gasps and muttered words, General Skywalker says your name, and you stand up straight, dutifully waiting for him to reprimand you. To everyone’s surprise, he calmly, but very firmly, told you to go get some air.

After a terse “Yes, sir” you turn on your heel and march out of the area, shaking terribly.

Once you’re at the Marauder, you cry out loudly in anger and punch the durasteel hull, ignoring the pain this causes. With a huff, you open the gangplank and sit down, head in your hands. You’re still shaking, but the ferocity of your emotions is quickly dying down.

Crosshair has been trying to get under your skin from the day you were assigned with Clone Force 99. You’ve been steadfastly ignoring his attempts to get a rise out of you, but today you have finally had enough. You know you shouldn’t have struck him, for many reasons, but mainly because that means he won; He finally got to you. But, on the flipside, the memory of that look on his face is something you’ll hold onto for the rest of your days. Damn that felt good, but now you just feel weak again.

“Son of a bitch,” you sigh, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes in a halfhearted attempt at stopping the tears that had formed from falling. A few minutes pass, then you hear footsteps approaching. You’ve been with the squad long enough now to recognize the sound of each man’s walk. Quick but quiet steps, in a long stride, come to a stop a few feet away from you.

Ugh, of course it’s him. You ignore Crosshair, stand, and turn to go into the ship, but he snares your wrist, stopping you.

You pull your arm back with a growl, then turn to address the sniper. You immediately feel a sense of both satisfaction and shame when you see the faint outline of your hand on his cheek. “What the hell do you want?” you say, almost yelling at him. “I snapped, you finally got to me, you won. What else is there? I’m not apologizing,” you say coldly.

Crosshair walks steadily up the gangplank towards you, and you see something different in the way he looks at you, though you can’t place it. “Good,” he says, startling you out of your anger. “You shouldn’t,” he continues. “Took you long enough to stand up to me.”

You scoff. “Then what do you want?” you say, retreating further into the ship.

“I’m supposed to let you know what the mission is,” he says.

You sigh, wipe your eyes, and turn around. You take a second look at him and realize what the change in his attitude is; that’s almost certainly respect on his face, just under his usual grumpy expression. Was all of that some kind of hazing thing? Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter, you have a mission to focus on. You shake your head and walk down the gangplank, making room for the others, who are headed in your direction.

Crosshair follows and tells you that the General and Rex will be joining the group, and the plan is to fly to Skako Minor in the Marauder, find where the signal has been traced, and investigate the source firsthand. He says that Rex seems to be the only one who believes the signal is coming from Echo; even the General has his doubts, and Hunter thinks it’s a trap. You thank Crosshair for filling you in, and he walks over to talk with Hunter and Rex.

You inadvertently meet Rex’s eyes, and doubt, true doubt in what you know to be the truth, flares in your chest for the first time in years. You trust Rex with your life. The situation with Fives did change things, but you still respect the Captain and his intuition. He is very rarely wrong. You want nothing more than for Echo to be alive, but it seems nearly impossible. Fives told you, in great detail after yet another nightmare one night, exactly what had happened at the citadel. Echo was killed when the shuttle was blown up. There was nothing they could do. Seeing the grief in Fives’ eyes convinced you wholly that this was the truth.

“Meds! You coming or what?” Crosshair says loudly over his shoulder. You’re so deep in thought, it takes you a moment to realize he’s speaking to you. A nickname, huh? You quickly walk over to where Crosshair is waiting.

“Meds?” you say when you catch up with him and make your way up the gangplank behind everyone else.

He shrugs. “You’re the medic, we certainly aren’t going to call you Pilot,” he says.

You remember that each of the Batchers got their names from their skills. You are officially part of the group now, apparently. “I’m almost honored,” you say to Crosshair, who smirks at you again.

The flight to Skako Minor is going to be short, but you decide to climb into your bunk and try to get some rest anyway. At minimum you want to put yourself into the right mindset for this mission. The Jedi have their flaws, but there is something to be said about their rule of not letting one’s feelings cloud one's judgement, you think, settling down on your back. The bunk area door isn’t closed, but the others are too preoccupied with Rex and General Skywalker to notice or want to come talk to you. At least, that’s what you thought. Only a second or so after pulling the glowing stone from under your armor, you hear footsteps. These are unfamiliar, but the sound of trooper-issue boots is very distinct. You sigh, and look up at Rex, who is standing in the doorway and looking unsure of himself. You wave him in, and he shuts the door behind him. He sits awkwardly in the bunk across from you, then says your name and tries to speak, but you interrupt him.

“Meds,” you say, shifting into a sitting position.

“What?” Rex asks, confused.

“Apparently lean and lanky out there wanted me to slap him. He’s been a pain in my ass from the start, but I’ve earned a new name, now that I’ve stood up to him,” you explain, trying not to smirk at the memory of Crosshair's shocked face. Rex nods in understanding.

“You really startled everyone with that earlier, Meds. Listen, I wanted to explain myself, for sending you back with Kix and Cody on the last mission,” he says. You twiddle the stone between your fingers, looking distant, but you are listening, so Rex continues. “I wasn’t sure what we would find at that cyber center,” he says. “But, I was worried that if I was right and it was Echo, it would have been too much for you. I thought about it later, and it wasn’t my call to make; I’m sorry for that.”

“Rex,” you say softly, making eye contact with him for the first time since he entered the bunks. “I understand. You were looking out for me, and I can appreciate that,” you say, grasping his forearm with your free hand. “But I’m a big girl now,” you say, making him chuckle. The tension now eased between the two of you, Rex visibly relaxes and you catch him looking at the glowing stone while an expression of understanding crosses his features.

“I wondered what that was for,” he mumbles.

“What, this?” you say. You unclasp the chain and hold it out to Rex. “Echo told me he just happened to find it while on a mission.” You’re surprised when Rex lets out a single laugh. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him. He delicately takes the chain from you and lets the stone dangle from his fingers, watching the swirling colors for a moment.

“‘Just happened to find it’ eh? Every second of downtime we had at the camp, he was wandering around the perimeter picking these weird rocks up. He must have had at least thirteen in his pocket by the time we were going to come back home. He spent a long time looking at each one and mumbling to himself before settling on this,” Rex says before handing the necklace back to you. “I wondered what he was doing,” Rex says.

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” you say sadly as you loop the chain back around your neck and tuck the crystal safely away under your armor once more. You sigh and take a long pause before speaking again.

“You’re sure it was him?” you ask quietly.

“I’m positive. I wouldn’t be following through with this mission if I had any doubt,” Rex says.

“You know Rex, despite what happened with Fives, I do still trust you,” you say firmly after a moment of thought, and can’t help but chuckle a little when you see the genuine surprise on his face.

From outside, Hunter opens the bunk area door, glances at the two of you and tells Rex that the General needs him for something. Rex and Hunter switch places, but the door stays open and Hunter remains standing, leaning back against the doorframe and casually crossing his arms over his chest. You know what he's thinking, and so you answer the unspoken question; “I’m okay Sarge. Nervous as hell, obviously, but I can do this,” you say.

He nods at you, extends a hand, and once you take it, he pulls you off of your bunk and back onto your feet. You hesitate for a second, then follow him over to where the others are gathered around.

“So, I know you all work with Cody sometimes, but who do you report to?” Rex asks as the two of you approach.

Hunter kind of pauses for a second and says “that’s a good question,” and you can’t help but laugh a little before you hear Crosshair scoff. He turns toward you and you roll your eyes. What would it be this time?

“You were back there with Captain Reg for a while,” he says loudly, bringing everyone’s attention to you. “Is Hunter not enough for you?” he asks, smirking.

You take a breath.

“You’ll get your turn,” you say in a teasing tone. “Maybe I’ll smack you again if you ask nicely.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence before Wrecker laughs so hard he nearly drops the gonk droid he’d been casually doing lifts with. The others also laugh a little, and even the General can’t help but roll his eyes good-naturedly. Crosshair, however, cheeks tinted the slightest bit of red that only you can see, keeps his face neutral.

Before you can react, Tech shouts from the cockpit that they are now approaching Skako, and it looks to be a difficult landing. Everyone immediately gets serious and you all take your places as Tech begins the descent to the planet's surface.

It seems like all the landings you’ve experienced since joining the Batch are rough ones, you think, as Tech maneuvers through a large sandstorm that surrounds the ship and severely reduces visibility. Seconds later, when he’s managed to land the ship unscathed on a flat area of land, you thank the Maker under your breath. Now back on solid ground, you and the others who weren’t in the cockpit gather around inside it.

The General asks what anyone knows about this planet, and after Rex describes the local race, the Poletecs, as ‘primitive’, Tech speaks up.

“Primitive is being kind. My sources say that they worship some kind of ancient flying reptile,” he says. Immediately after, something bumps the ship hard enough to shake it and jostle everyone inside. Wrecker leans toward the transparisteel window and wonders aloud what the hell that was. You all find out when a figure astride a winged beast lands onto the nose of the ship. “It’s one of those reptiles!” Tech says.

The creature scrambles upwards onto the roof of the Marauder, and Hunter shouts that he wants that thing off his ship. Within seconds, you all have your helmets on and are rushing outside, blasters aimed at the beast. General Skywalker activates his blue lightsaber as he brings up the rear of the group. The native, who appears to be a Chieftain, says something in an odd, warbling language that none of you can understand. Someone, you aren’t sure who, takes a shot at the winged lizard. It flaps up off of its feet, then swoops down and grabs hold of the General before turning to fly away. As General Skywalker drops his weapon and Rex picks it up, you notice that the Chieftain has been joined by two more natives on their own lizards.

The sandstorm is picking back up, so you don’t fully hear the order that was just given, but you can at least see that Crosshair has taken a shot at the beast holding the General, using Tech's shoulder for stability. Rex asks what they’re doing, and Hunter casually says “going for a ride,” before grabbing the cable of what turned out to be a grappling hook that Crosshair had hit the animal with and being yanked up into the air.

As he goes, Rex turns to look at you and asks “and you deal with this everyday?” He still has his helmet on, but you can imagine the incredulous look on his face underneath it.

“Well, I’m never bored,” you say. “We should get inside, I can’t see if there’s anything else out here,” you shout over the growing roar of the wind.

Once you’re all inside the Marauder, a comm from Hunter comes in. “Tech,” he says, sounding winded, “I’m with the General, take the ship and hone in on my signal.” Tech immediately obeys and the ship is airborne within seconds. Hunter, it turns out, is on the ridge of a high cliff right above a Poletec village. Tech expertly lands the ship despite the uneven terrain, and the group, yourself included, run over to Hunter. After a few seconds you can spot General Skywalker being pinned into place near the center of the village by the same flying reptile that had grabbed him earlier. Rex reminds you all that there will be no casualties as you go in, and you are disarming the people only.

On Hunter’s command, Wrecker pushes a huge boulder down the cliff towards the village, and you all slide down after it, blasting weapons out of the Poletecs hands as you do. From the top of the cliff, Crosshair had stayed behind and took a shot at the beast holding the General. A small shocking device hit its flank and it reflexively let the General go just in time for him to roll out of the way of the oncoming boulder.

Once the chaos dies down, General Skywalker gets to his feet, and the Chieftain cautiously approaches, speaking. With the help of Techs translation software integrated into his helmet, the two parties are able to communicate. The Chieftains name is Qin Yazal, and he had taken your leader because his people do not want your war on their planet. Tech explains that you as a group are here to retrieve a prisoner of war, and Yazal agrees to send two scouts alongside you to lead the way to Purkoll, where Wat Tambor and the Techno Union wait.

The trip to Purkoll isn’t very long, but the persistent wind makes it difficult. You finally reach what looks like an access shaft to the city, and the two Poletec scouts take their leave. General Skywalker calls everyone into a kind of huddle, and since the wind is dying down, you all slip your helmets off as he begins to speak. Before he can, Tech, who has been tracing Echoes signal, tells everyone that he’s lost it. You see the confusion and mild panic on Rex’s face, and suggest that the signal may be lost or weak from all the wind and dust interfering.

“Or,” Hunter says, “maybe it’s a trap.”

“Any mission could be a trap, and this one is no different! Echo is up there, I know it!” Rex says, barely able to restrain himself from shouting.

“I think you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way,” Crosshair says, speaking up from the rear of the group. “I think you feel guilty for leaving Echo for dead at the Citadel,” he continues in a drawl.

“I had no choice!” Rex shouts.

“Oh I don’t blame you,” Crosshair says. Sensing yet another fight, you step in between the two men who are now staring each other down. “He’s just another Reg, it’s not like he was worth anything,” Crosshair says while turning away. You, without thinking, grab his shoulder, jerk him back around to face you, and slap him again, hard enough to make your hand tingle, on the other side of his face.

The others are shocked into silence again, but before you even have time to pull your arm back toward yourself, Rex has shoved you out of the way and sucker-punched the sniper, sending him reeling back a few feet. Wrecker grabs Rex and lifts him into the air, but thankfully General Skywalker steps in and breaks things up before it gets really ugly. He tells the rest of you to stand down while he and Rex have a private talk.

You and the Batch take several steps away until you’re out of earshot. Once you all come to a stop, you single out Crosshair and march over to him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” you shout, having to raise your voice over the increasing volume of the approaching wind.

“I could ask you the same thing!” he shouts back.

“Crosshair, she-“ Hunter starts to say, but is interrupted.

“Is only with us because we don’t look like all the regular clones!” he shouts. Tech and Wrecker look surprised and glance at each other.

“Oh, so you’ve been eavesdropping too?” you snap back at him.

“I heard enough. If you can’t stand the regs, why do you keep defending them?” he says.

“Crosshair! That’s enough!” Hunter says, also shouting while forcing himself between the two of you. You push away from them both, fighting back angry tears.

“You would already know if you’d been nosy a little longer,” you hiss, pointing at his chest. He scoffs and waves you off with a hand before walking away. Before anyone can stop you, you’re stomping over to Crosshair, grabbing his wrist, and wrenching him back around, forcing him to look at you. Tears are flowing freely now, but you don’t notice or care. If you were shouting before, you’re practically bellowing at him now.

“You think my job is easy? You honestly think I just toddle around after you four, taking care of your bumps and bruises like it’s nothing? Fuck you. I’ve seen combat. I’ve seen the same screaming, crying, and dying face every single goddamned day since this war started. Every time I look at anyone but you four, all I see is pain and death and failure. You want to know what my problem is? I have been haunted by living ghosts ever since Echo and Fives died. You try keeping it together when you see the literal exact copies of someone you loved being killed before your eyes, day in and day out, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it! It’s not about the fucking ‘regs’, and it never was.” You stop to take a shaky breath, and drop Crosshair's wrist like it was something filthy.

When you next speak, it comes out as a croak.

“You want me gone? Is that why you’ve been trying to make my life hell? Hmph. You’ll have to try harder than this. I am not going to let someone like you stop me from doing my goddamned job, and there is nothing you could throw at me, nothing, that will ever be worse than what I am forced to see when I go to sleep every single night.”

It takes you a moment to realize that everyone except Crosshair is staring at you. You pause for a second, breathe deeply, and recompose yourself. You calmly take him by the wrist again, and drag him over to a nearby boulder. You tell him to “sit down and shut up,” which he does, retrieve a few things from the medkit on your back, and sit next to him.

You gently grip his jaw and maneuver his head so that you can more easily reach the growing bump on his temple. He, to your absolute shock, doesn’t fight you off, and doesn’t move unless you direct him to. Aside from a sharp hiss he lets out when one of the ointments touches his skin, he stays silent, allowing you to work unimpeded.

You’re badly startled when you hear your name, your real name, said softly from behind you. You turn towards the sound, and see that Rex and the General are back with the group.

“Rex.” You say flatly. “How much did you hear?”

“Everything. You were loud enough that we both could hear you from over there,” he says, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Apologies for interrupting, sir,” you said, catching General Skywalker's eye. He doesn’t speak, but looks deeply sympathetic.

“That’s why you left? Kix told me a little, but I had no idea it was that bad.” Rex says.

You take a deep breath, then nod, before bringing your focus back to Crosshair's face. After a few seconds you’ve moved from his temple to his right cheek, gingerly applying a bacta spray and very gently rubbing it into the skin. You chance a look at Crosshair's eyes, and notice that he actually looks regretful. Then he speaks.

“I… deserved that,” is all he says, quietly. You sigh and turn his head to take a look at his other cheek. The mark you left there has long faded, so you release him and get to your feet.

“I think two is enough for one day,” you say, softly patting Crosshair's less-inflamed cheek. You hold out your hand and he takes it, allowing you to pull him to his feet. He maintains eye contact and simply nods at you.

Tech awkwardly clears his throat and says that he has found the signal again.

“Good. Now, that’s enough wasted time, let’s get moving,” General Skywalker says firmly.

He leads the group as you all walk back towards the access shaft that the Poletech scouts had led you to. On the way, everyone who has one replaces their helmets, now that the wind is bringing dust with it, and Tech is able to get the door to the shaft open after a minute or so. Crosshair checks inside for any threats, but finds the lift inside empty. Everyone steps inside, save for Wrecker, who is looking up at the height of the city nervously.

“Don’t worry Wrecker, I’ll hold your hand,” Hunter teases, getting a loud “oh shut up!” in response as Wrecker finally makes his way inside.

You were the last in before him, so he winds up standing somewhat beside you, at an angle. You comm directly into his helmet and say “Gonna be okay there big guy?” Not to tease, but as a genuine question.

He glances down at you and quietly comms back “I’ll be fine if I don’t think about it, thanks Meds.” You reassuringly grip his forearm and he nods gratefully at you. Hunter notices this, but says nothing.

After another minute or two (it must be a long way up) General Skywalker speaks and reminds you all that this is supposed to be a stealth mission, and that you all need to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible, keeping destruction to a minimum. No sooner have the words left his mouth, the lift comes to a stop, the door slides open to what looks like a loading bay full of droids, and Wrecker runs outside, shooting freely at the machines.

The rest of the Batch follow, while Rex and General Skywalker look at you, and you groan, face palming your helmet. “Dammit. So much for stealth,” you say, exasperated.

Another minute or so passes, and once you, Rex, and the General have also taken out enough droids to clear the area, the chaos stops, aside from Wrecker, who is clearly having the time of his life and hollering. When he notices everyone else staring at him, he awkwardly coughs and apologizes for getting too excited again. Someone finds a door into a hallway, and you all file inside.

The General peeks out of the doorway first, holding up a hand to stop the rest of you from going forward past him. About four or five droids pass, but are quickly taken out by Hunter’s blaster, which appears to clear the area. As everyone steps into the hall, Tech says that he has lost the signal again.

“How?” Wrecker asks. “There’s nothin’ up here to get in the way!”

“I’m surprised I did not think of it before,” Tech says. “It’s most likely that the signal is only emitted when data is being broadcast.”

“In that case, we can’t just wait for it to come back. We need to split up, check every door. If you find something do not go in without backup, call everyone else to your position first,” General Skywalker says. Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, and Rex break off and head left, while Crosshair and the General go right. You don’t immediately move and instead freeze in place; there’s something heavy stirring in your chest.

It’s just nerves, you think. It has to be. After all, you’re only minutes away from possibly finding Echo and bringing him back, or confirming once and for all that he really is gone for good. Whatever the outcome, the possibilities terrify you. If you did find Echo, what kind of state would he be in? Would he even remember you? The nervous feeling then gives way to dread. You force yourself to take a deep breath and still your trembling hands. Can’t be shaky when holding a blaster, you think to yourself as you concentrate on your breathing.

After realizing you’ve been left behind, you hesitate, then follow Rex and the others. Crosshair and General Skywalker are competent enough on their own, you think. Besides, Wrecker seemed to be a magnet for trouble. Decision made, you jog a little to catch up.

You must have been standing there longer than you thought, as it takes you a good minute or two to find the Captain and the others. Just as you fall into step behind Tech, he says that he’s found the signal again, then moves to the front of the group, taking a left turn into a kind of alcove. Hunter points to a set of double doors set back into the far wall and says it’s in there. You wonder how he would know, then remember that he can sense and follow electromagnetic fields. Whatever was behind that door has to be putting out massive waves of energy.

Hunter and Wrecker stand on either side of the small space, keeping an eye out for droids and the other two men in your party. Tech immediately gets to work, using his datapad to try and get the doors open. Rex glances back at you, then comms directly into your helmet: “Stay close. I don’t know what state he’ll be in.”

You nod stiffly.

There’s a bizarre metallic shimmering sound, and the face of Wat Tambor appears on a circular screen near the doors control panel. “You clones are so predictable,” he says smugly, “My algorithm told me your every move into Purkoll.”

“That’s no algorithm,” Rex growls back. “I know you’re keeping a prisoner of war in there, and I am not leaving without my friend!”

Tambor laughs. “Your friend is dead. His mind is ours,” he says.

You hear Rex roar out that he’s lying, but whatever else is said is drowned out by the sound of approaching droids and blaster fire.

You draw your weapon and cover Techs back; he’s having a harder time with this door than the others. You, Rex, Hunter, and Wrecker take down as many of the clankers as you can, but it seems as if they never stop coming. Suddenly, about four or five of the droids fly into the air and slam into another group of them, followed by a very distinct-sounding few rounds of blaster fire. You never thought you’d be relieved to see Crosshair, but here he is, right behind General Skywalker. With the two of them not in the fray, enough time is bought for Tech to finally get the damn doors open. The General shouts for Tech and Rex to get in there. You’re about to follow, when Crosshair says your name, stopping you.

“Good luck in there,” he says, then General Skywalker Force-pushes you through the doors seconds before they close.

After the chaos and noise from the shooting outside, the stillness of the room you and the other two find yourselves in feels ominous and unnatural.

You keep your blaster at the ready, scanning the space, but it’s empty. The three of you reach a large, semi circular console of control panels, and a stasis chamber sits high above them on the wall in the center. Rex says something you don’t quite hear to Tech, who starts to push buttons and pull levers on the control panel. You approach, holstering your blaster, as you stare into the frozen-over window of the chamber.

There’s a vague shadow inside.

You and Rex glance at each other and remove your helmets. He looks just as scared as you feel.

“Got it!” Tech says, pushing two slider switches forward.

The stasis chamber doors pop open a little bit with a loud hiss, allowing cold steam to dissipate into the room. A mere second later, the doors open completely, and a figure falls forward, stopped from hitting the floor by a myriad of cables and tubes attached directly to it. The steam clears, and you can’t help but scream.

It’s Echo.

He looks worse than dead. All of his color is gone, and there’s a thin veneer of frost covering his skin. He’s missing both legs, one from the knee down, the other from the hip, and an arm, which have been replaced with clunky mechanical limbs. He's bone-thin, and his head has been shaved, making way for some kind of electronic apparatus implanted directly into his skull.

The worst thing is his eyes. His eyes are open, but unfocused, twitching and moving independently of one another. The entire scene is like something out of your nightmares.

Rex quickly hops up onto the console and disconnects a few of the… things, whatever they are, that are attaching Echo to the stasis chamber. As he does, Echo’s body lurches forward again, and you instinctively move to catch him before he hits the floor. He’s so cold, but the shiver that shoots down your spine has nothing to do with that. You ignore it and gently maneuver into a kneeling position, resting Echo’s back and head against the lower half of the control panels, allowing his mechanical legs to stretch out on the floor in front of him.

“Tech! Find a way to disconnect him from all of this!” Rex says as he kneels beside you.

“What the hell have they done to you?” you whisper, then nearly scream again when Echo suddenly takes a huge, gasping breath, and sits up straighter.

“The- the shuttle, we need to get to the shuttle. No! I’ll go first,” he mumbles. The citadel, you realize with a gasp. He thinks he’s still at the citadel.

“Echo! Echo, it’s me!” Rex says, shaking him slightly.

“Rex?” Echo says. His voice is so hoarse it’s like a whisper, and after he coughs violently for a moment, awareness returns to his face. “Rex!” he says. “You- you came back for me?”

“We did,” Rex says.

“We did?” Echo repeats, confused. Just then, Rex gets to his feet then stands out of the way, and Echo can clearly see you. Unaware of the tears streaming down your face, you gasp again when Echo weakly lifts his remaining attached arm and brushes his freezing hand against your cheek.

He whispers your name in awe. “It is you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say through a small sob. You hold his hand tightly to your cheek. “It’s me. You’re safe now Echo, I’ve got you.”

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artdecosupernova-writing · 1 year

Text

Find the Word Game X

(Double Feature)

tagged by: @druidx!! (thank you so much for giving me stuff to do lmao) my words: courage, communication/comms, consequence, community, decision, device, debt, depth tagging: @drippingmoon, @sleepy-night-child, @ashen-crest, @zmwrites, @sleepyowlwrites, @drabbleitout, @oh-no-another-idea, @pertinax–loculos, @druidx, and my chronic pain ✌🏽🤪 your words: suit, grateful, sting, crossing, information, dilute

courage(ous) (Eternal)—

Warren sat on the bed. "You're a powerhouse, you know," he said, full of affection. "You're hella courageous and strong and god, you're so brilliant. You wouldn't be alone, anyway, because there's no way I'd let you go back to Andromeda without me."

"No," Thrive said instantly. "You would absolutely not go with me."

"It's cute that you think you could stop me."

"If I had to, I would weld this entire apartment shut with you inside of it."

Warren lifted his brows. "I've been fighting my way through the Milky Way on my own for the past, like, eight months. You think I would let some metal stop me from going with you?"

"Do you think I could live with myself if you got killed or worse in my galaxy?"

communication/comms (Aurora)—

They all entered the comm hub and Thrive pressed a sequence of several buttons on the nearest console, dragging something on a touchscreen. "This is Tournaltis. Identify yourself."

"What do we do if it is an ambush?" Warren asked in the interim. "We don't have planetary support or defense yet, do we?"

"No." Thrive swiped again. "Repeat: identify yourself or turn around."

Vriea looked nervous. "Maybe we should brace ourselves for an attack just in case?"

The comm crackled. "Apologies, Tournaltis, this is the Echo Valtar."

"I am Orthrive'poliea. What is your business?"

"We're transporting an individual that needs to speak to you; since we were passing by we decided to give him a lift. We only intend to send him down planetside in a shuttle on your authorization, and then we'll be on our way."

"Your passenger needs to identify himself if he wants to approach."

There was a pause. Warren and Vriea exchanged a concerned look before the silence was broken by the popping of the system again and a different, but ultimately familiar voice came forward.

"Uh, hey. It's Guetry. Something's come up and I need to talk to you guys."

consequence (Meridian)—

Another pause strangled the room, but Warren felt a swell of interest through his and Thrive's bond that sent him reeling.

"You discussed this while I was gone?"

"It was merely curiosity," Scot echoed. "It poses no consequence to me one way or another. I figured that, since you and I are both passionate about science, it would be an experiment that would appeal to you. Warren gave his blessing in any case."

Now the hand stilled on Warren's forehead. "...Did he, now?"

"The choice is ultimately yours," Scot said. "If the idea revolts you, there will be no repercussions."

Thrive was silent for a bit longer than expected. The crackling of the fire outside served as their soundtrack for several minutes, and Warren swallowed the lump of nerves in his throat, taking advantage of the fact that without his abilities, Thrive wasn't able to read him.

community company (Rebirth)—

Finally alone on the bridge, Thrive tilted his head as he watched Warren, and Warren acknowledged his gaze by meeting it. He caught an unusual hint of interest in Thrive's eyes.

"What's up, babe?"

"Are you still tired?"

As if on cue, Warren yawned, leaning back to stretch. "I guess so, yeah."

"Would you like company? I had planned on resting as well."

"Absolutely."

Warren found that sleeping while curled back against Thrive, hand clasped firmly within a much stronger one as Thrive held him tight, seemed to prevent any and all nightmares, though that could've just been a coincidence. At any rate, he was content.

decision (Aurora)—

"You met Thrive…" Warren couldn't stop the swell of emotion from leaving his body in the form of tears of sorrow, of grief, of everything overwhelming and terrible. He missed Thrive so much it caused him physical pain. "He's gone, isn't he?"

"Yes." ——— turned his face to the sunrise once again. "Now you have to make a decision."

"I…" Warren reached up to touch his own chest and glanced down. A black, ringed planet, covered in glitter, stared back up at him. The edges of his vision turned fuzzy, and he inhaled. "Where am I?"

"I think that is what you have to decide," ——— said. "Are you following the whims of the universe? Or have you succumbed to a force much darker than you could ever imagine?"

"How do I know? I can't...I can't make sense of anything. This feels like a dream."

The sensation of being watched crept over his shoulders.

"You are up against a powerful enemy," ——— said. "But...you can overcome their terror. You possess within you the strength of a Cougar, and the will of a Pahona."

device (Meridian)—

"We're holding them on Oun and Rem," Thrive said. "If we need to make space on Lio, we will."

"[The Consortium's] not gonna like that."

Thrive turned to look at Warren over his shoulder, a surprisingly mischievous, lopsided grin adding a degree of youth to his face that once seemed impossible to reach again. "Fuck them."

Warren blinked from the floor, the words smacking into his sternum like the broad side of a closed fist, and within the succeeding pause he forgot to exhale. "What?" he blurted within the space between a high-pitched whine and a breathless plea. He coughed, embarrassed, pressing a hand to his own chest. "I'm so sorry...I went to a dark place there for a second..."

"I've seen that place before," Thrive said, moving to follow Atoa out of the office. "It has a box under the bed containing my leather harness and a velvet rope, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Warren sighed into the screens of the devices on his lap. "The dark part was that I was wearing them instead of you."

He heard Thrive's poorly stifled laugh from the middle of the hall.

debt due (Eternal)—

Roundtree turned to him. "We apologize for the inhumanity of using you for our own purposes."

"Senator," Thrive said, unimpressed, "I have been used for others' gain since my birth. Your arrogance, while hardly surprising, makes no unique enough impact on me to insult or otherwise."

Warren had to bite his tongue to stop himself from reacting to that.

Thrive shifted his cape behind his shoulder in a move that was likely casual but exuded confidence the likes of which Warren was sure he did not possess at that moment. "Now, that being said, I refuse and will refuse any and all responsibilities to forge a relationship between Andromeda and the Milky Way after what has transpired today. Morally and legally, I cannot assist you further. Transportation hubs in my native galaxy are treated with respect and without proper authorization, they cannot be used. Tytiva is among the most strict in that regard due to prior conflict with my…" He paused. "...With my peers," he finished cryptically.

DeCosta and Roundtree shared a weighted look.

depth drop (Rebirth)—

Wherever Thrive was in relation to his conscience, he reminded it of what happened after Seryst'velent's brother murdered him, plus what happened to Ysha, plus the hundreds of other gruesome and unsavory things he'd had to do during his career as a Protector. This was not new.

Interesting. His conscience sounded like Warren. But ——— were dead. ——— were dead. And he was tired. So, so tired.

He closed his eyes and drew a calm, steady breath through parted lips before he crushed ———'s windpipe. It popped like the rind of a fruit in his hand, and he discarded him onto the floor, determined to stop the ship from cutting through a planet in the near future.

Swiping his bloody hand over his form suit, he jogged onto the bridge and took over the controls, the Anchorage dropping abruptly out of FTL. He was startled by the instant sight of a large planet taking up an alarming portion of the window.

Without needing much of a glance to the console, Thrive knew they were too close to pull out of the planet's gravitational pull. But still…a second too late and the ship and the planet would've been obliterated.

There was no time to stop. The surface of the planet was greeting him far too fast, not to mention that he was minutes from breaking through the atmosphere.

#find the word #tag game #pain management is nonexistent atm #I have two pills left for the foreseeable future and I'm going to lose my mind #anyway here's wonderwall

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