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transmalewife · 2 years

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I don't think I fully have a conclusion to this yet, but if I don't write this post while the experience is still somewhat fresh in my mind, I never will, so here goes.

I was never *very* fat, let's say. I didn't have the kind of body you probably imagine when you think of plus size afabs (in huge part because plus size models don't actually look like that either and wear padding to achieve the same unrealistic beauty standards just sized up, but that's a discussion for another day.) I've always had narrow hips and bony shoulders, and I put on muscle quite easily, so when I was a kid and still able to exercise, before all my chronic illnesses hit me like a pile of bricks in my late teens, I looked like this: Long, slender limbs sticking out of a rectangular torso with a fat belly and unreasonably massive tits. Even later, I only ever hovered somewhere around the "noticably bigger than average" mark.

I take the time to explain that not as some sort of weird flex or trying to distance myself from the "real" fatties, but to acknowledge that I only ever got a small taste of the fatphobia experience. But still, it was always a thing. I got bullied and mocked for it as a kid, by classmates and family. I was made to hate and feel ashamed of how my body looked, forced onto diets for as long as i can remember. developed at least disordered patterns of eating because of it. I had trouble finding clothing that fit me, especially bras. There was only one store I could find that carried my size and at times in my life i outgrew their sizing too. It ruined my posture, both mechanically, simply because the entire weight of my chest, unsupported by a properly fitting bra, hung from my neck, and indirectly, because I'd slouch to hide it. One time I literally got laughed out of a store by the staff after asking for something in my size.

So I grew up being constantly told, directly to my face by people I knew, and indirectly by media, that I was fat, and that it was a bad thing. and not just by itself, or because of health (though that was certainly often used as an excuse) but specifically because it made me ugly. and as we all know, a girl's greatest failure is to look ugly. I was lucky enough to stumble on body positivity very early, and I moved past that by myself, accepting my body how it was, understanding that beating myself up about how it looked would only lead to more suffering, that dieting doesn't work, and that the road to health cannot be paved by insecurities and shame. it took me half a decade after that to understand why the one part of my body I couldn't make peace with was my chest, despite accepting every other stretch mark and fold, because I simply had dysphoria.

It's a complicated place to live in, psychologically. Big tits are supposed to be hot, but in reality, if they make you look fat, if they don't sit on top of an hourglass figure and aren't pushed up to oblivion all the time, they're just more kilograms of fat you can be made to feel guilty about. You're punished for not being feminine, because you have to be pretty to be feminine, and to be fat is to be ugly. but big tits are supposed to be the compromise you get, feminine by default. you're supposed to appreciate that, but I didn't. I hated it because I don't want to be feminine in the first place because I am not a woman.

I got top surgery last year. Started wearing binders regularly two years before that (and coincidentally lost a lot of weight because I moved to a place where I could stop eating things I'm allergic to). And people's perception of me did change, but not how you'd expect. I wasn't seen as more masculine with a flat chest, at least not by everyone. I'm now seen as skinny, therefore pretty, therefore feminine. People who don't know I got top surgery, or before, didn't know I was binding, tell me how beautiful and feminine I look since I 'lost weight'. Even those who do know, and try to respect that I'm trans don't tell me "wow you look like a boy who's never been to the gym in his entire life", they tell me "you now have the figure of a supermodel" with the feminine suffix in our language.

I was at the thinnest I've been in a long time around my surgery, out of stress and exhaustion, and I've since gained enough weight to surpass what I weighed with my tits then, (because of a bunch of unrelated medical stuff) and yet no one has made a comment on it. Family members who used to point out and criticize every bit of extra fat i'd put on, supposedly because they worried for my health, now don't notice it at all, or even praise the way I look. (This isn't the same, but feels similar to when those same people praised how i look when I lost an unhealthy amount of weight in a short time because I was severely ill.) Strangers on the street look at me differently. Sometimes they call me slurs for gay men, but most often they adress me as ma'am and are nicer than they were when they saw me as fat. "Women's" clothing fits me better than it did before.

skinniness is so strongly weaved into our cultural vision of beauty and beauty is so inseparably tied to femininity, that literally getting masculinizing surgery can make you look more like a woman. Being fat in many ways excludes you from gendered society. Fat men and women both gravitate to neutral t shirts and pants because it's often all they can get that fits them. Fat women are seen as more masculine because society deems them ugly and fat men as more feminine because round, soft bodies are considered 'effeminate' (it's a bit more complicated here since skinny men, as in those that don't have much muscle, are also seen as more feminine, though women so skinny they look angular instead of curvy, as is expected of them, also get told they look like boys. there's many layers to all this.).

Performing any gender to society's satisfaction is harder when you're fat, because neither dresses nor suits are easy to find in those sizes, let alone binders that actually work or, I imagine, gaff underwear. the general image society has of a nonbinary person, while newer, is also usually 'thin to the point of androgyny'. The beauty standards that we are forced to conform to or be ostracised are so rigid, and weight is such a crucial component of them, and we need to talk more about the damaging and often unexpected ways they intersect with queer presentations and trans bodies.

#eating disorder tw #vomit tw #fatphobia #trans #mine.#this is absolutely not me saying i regret top surgery because my mean aunt told me i look thinner btw. I don't regret it for any reason #and if anything part of me likes those reactions too because I am not immune to internalized fatphobia #i need a queue tag

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leshitshow · 3 months

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Not a good person but it is what it is

I'm not a good person. Not a bad person but also just not a good one.

Talked to my therapist today and told her about how my uncle put my grandma in a dirty and poorly run assisted living home. He then sold her home out from under her and left her to die. She died of neglect induced pneumonia at the home within six months of his actions. For this, I told my therapist I am going to find a way to ruin his marriage. I do feel this to be justified. But, yea. While my uncle sucks, I am not really any better for coming for him.

It takes a lot to get me that mad, though. My uncle fucking deserves every ounce of hate and misery I can bring to him. External to him making his adoring mom's final months awful while he and his wife mocked her, in his younger years he inflicted racist violence against people of color. His brother told me a few awful stories. American X level bullshit. I'm looking at it this way - I am going to go one step further than punching a nazi. I am going to destroy his marriage and, with a little luck, his retirement funds. So, yea. I am not a good person.

I have a fuck around find out policy. BUT - you have to be a real piece of shit to end up on my list. You have to beat women and children and be in my direct line of sight. That's now, though. In my younger years it was basically, don't fuck with my family. And it still is, to an extent. I don't like my mother as much as I did in my younger years because I realize all the abuse I lived with was through her. And my lil' bro is a hot mess. If he gets into trouble I'd have to think real hard before getting involved today. But in my previous younger years, when someone fucked with mom or bro - that was it.

One example, a drug selling friend of my mothers robbed her. That pissed me off. I told every one of the drug dealer's neighbors that they were, in fact, drug dealers. And they lost their home and got divorced. I facilitated that.

Today, I don't feel great about it because I now know what a piece of shit my mom is. I did that two decades ago when I believed in my mother. We obviously never know the full story to anything, really ever - but knowing that means less to you when you're early in your 20s/late teens. I also don't regret what I did because the woman was a real piece of shit, too. But if I had known how much I know now about what a real piece of shit my own mother is I think I would've ignored the whole issue, and realized that's what you get when you are messing with drug users/dealers. Anyway.

There was another time I made a house of bullies vanish. I was in my teens and they were fucking with my little brother and mom, constantly. Keying mom's car and chasing him around and trying to beat him up when he was 8-years-old. At first I physically confronted and scared the shit out of his bullies. After that, they stayed the fuck outta my way and outta sight. But when they kept keying our cars at night - I decided I'd had enough and told child services that the kid's parents were selling meth. I mean, they were - so no lie there. But, I came for them too and the whole house found a new set residents with a quickness.

So no. I am not wholesome. I can be ruthless. I have some rules. Don't fuck with my family. Don't harm innocents I personally know. And - if I do come for someone, they won't know what is happening or where its coming from. I don't play. But I also really extremely dislike activating the processing of my shitlist. It's not like I'm out here picking rando lives to ruin. Just the ones that cross me in messy ways.

I told my therapist there's literally two people left on this shit list. My uncle is one and then the man who abused my brother, mother, and I for 20-years is the other. I am coming for my uncle. And, I already warned my mom's ex and he knows to stay the fuck outta my and my family's way. I haven't touched him. I do know he pissed off some other family in the UK, though by also treating them the way he treated us. I know that woman is after him too. So I'm hoping he takes care of himself without my intervention. I hope that when I do actually hear about him again, it'll be something like he tried to abuse and rob someone else, or the UK fam came for him landing his unalive ass under a bridge. But at this point I'm just glad to be free and clear of him.

But yea, I am not the best person I could be. But, I also recognize that I can't be a good person. I came from violence. The fact I am not violent and drug dealing for a living is better than where I came from. I do have baggage though and some of that baggage is tied to some egg shells that I realize I have no choice but to break as I continue my stupid journey through life.

It is what it is.

#not a good person #spite

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beverlyonvinyl · 3 years

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wasteland, baby! - JJ Maybank

summary; after a jealousy-fueled fight with your Kook ex-boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, the hot-tempered JJ has a long awaited meeting with you on the dock.

warnings; swearing, underage alcohol/drug consumption, plenty of angst, fluff.

word count; 1.5k

song; wasteland, baby! by hoizer

[ gif via pinterest ]

wasteland, baby / i’m in love / i’m in love with you.

The Boneyard was crowded with all walks of life tonight. Slimy Tourons looking for a girl to hook up with before they left town, rich Kooks getting drunk off of just a few beers, and the almighty rulers of the Outer Banks, the Pogues. Party animals by nature and fighters by chance, whether a nosy Kook got in their business or a Touron took something too far, a Pogue was always up to throw punches.

One of the Pogues stuck out, a particular blond-haired boy that was consistently sporting some kind of gnarly bruise or cut. The infamous JJ Maybank was always getting into of trouble, typically for a good cause. He's a ticking time bomb, and he can't keep his hands to himself.

The sandy-haired troublemaker was currently surrounded by a small arena of people, unbeknown to his circle of close friends that were sipping on bitter alcohol on the opposite side of the moonlit beach.

"JJ has been gone for like, twenty minutes," a girl with caramel skin and the most annoyed expression on her face pointed out to her other friends. "He probably found a girl."

The boy across from her looked behind him, he was a bit more sober than his reckless buddies.

"Kie... are they screaming his name?" He asked, still gawking at the large swarm of people behind him.

Another girl chimed into the conversation. "I bet someone is—"

"Is he in a fight?" Kie set her solo cup down on the ground and stood up. "What is his deal?"

The ringleader of the Pogues, and the boy who had thrown this party in the first place, came striding over to his other three friends with a freshly filled cup in his hand.

"John B.," the other boy stuttered. "JJ is beating the shit out of someone..."

His drunk and tired features expressed enough that he was done dealing with JJ's outbursts. Honest to god, everyone was tired of it. Picking him up from police stations, icing his bruises, making sure he didn't break something, he was acting out more than he ever had previously.

"Go deal with it," John B. gestured to the girl that wasn't Kie. "He'll listen to you."

Y/N raised her eyebrows at her best friend, contemplating if what he was saying was the truth, or just bullshit to get out of meddling with JJ's antics.

"I'm not getting between him and whoever he's kicking in the ass," she took down a gulp of her beer. "He's dangerous when he's angry."

"You make him less angry," John B. countered. "Now go fix it and I'll get the rest of these assholes off our beach."

Y/N headed for the crowd of onlookers, kicking up the sand with her worn, green Vans. She could hear another voice barking back at JJ, and unfortunately she recognized it.

She pushed her way through some brainless Tourons in cheap shark tooth necklaces, shoving them to the side and ordering them to scram. This was between her, JJ, and the guy that had got beaten to a pulp.

"Fucking Rafe," she sneered, watching JJ throw another punch to her ex-boyfriend's bloody face. "What did you do this time?"

JJ turned his head, his cerulean eyes piercing into hers. Rafe took this precious moment to breathe, for JJ's very violent assault had offered him little time for that.

"Everyone out!" Y/N yelled at the last few nosy people that surrounded them. She watched Rafe catch his last breath before he took another blow to his jaw. "Stop it, J."

"What?" He pushed Rafe's limp body to the side and looked at the frustrated girl standing above him.

She disregarded JJ's questioning look and crouched down next to her quivering, former lover. He was still very much alive, lord be damned if Rafe Cameron ever lose his life to a weed-smoking, beer-slugging, couch-surfing Pogue like JJ, but he had stil been pummeled horribly.

"Tell me what you did to make him hurt you," she muttered in Rafe's ear.

Rafe chuckled at her. Once his beaming girlfriend that thrived in country clubs and sundresses, she traded her perfect Kook life for a life full of treasure hunting and disappointing her parents.

If only he hadn't started with the cocaine.

"Just told Kelce some stories of how good you were in bed," he smirked at her with dark eyes.

JJ came stomping back towards them, open lighter in his tight grip. "You're fucking disgusting..."

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. "Wait for me on the dock."

He let out a huff of aggression, not feeling free of the anger he had towards Rafe. His heavy boots hit the frail wooden planks of the Chateau's dock, and he couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to maybe, just maybe, Y/N wanted her dickhead of an ex-boyfriend back. Maybe they were out in the Boneyard reminiscing of old times when they would go to the country club and sneak kisses when their parents weren't watching. Maybe she wanted to help Rafe get clean so they could be together again.

JJ looked out at the calm water, such a contrast to the storm he was feeling in his chest. When he felt that strike of hurt, that pain and fury within him, he took it out on the nearest thing that crossed him.

"I'm sorry about that," a small voice hummed from behind him.

He turned around to see Y/N's figure framed by the blue moonlight.

"I should be the one that's sorry," he mumbled.

She sat beside him on the splintering dock. "J, I would've cut his face up with a beer bottle if I heard what he said."

He laughed at her a little. "So what'd you say to him?"

"That I'd cut off his dick if he talked about me like that again."

JJ looked at her in pure admiration. He knew when he first met her that she was locked up in the gates of the Kook lifestyle. Rafe always made him jealous, whether he spotted them holding hands while he was busing tables or sharing a drink while he was at a party with his friends. It dampened his mood and he wasn't afraid to show it... until she became a Pogue herself.

It would be an instant crime to make a move now. Pogues don't mess with other Pogues.

"I've always liked you, Y/N," he observed the way her eyes sparkled, even though it was dark.

She backed away from him every so slightly.

"No! Wait— not like that," he put his paw-like hand on her shoulder, cold rings creating a vibrant contrast against her hot skin. "As friends."

"Oh," she glanced down at the water. Endless nothingness.

There was a string of tension between the two rebellious teens that just couldn't be cut. Every time he saw her it made him dizzy, and getting drunk or high in her presence seemed to be a risk. If he let out even a whisper of how he felt, she'd hear him.

Y/N took his chin in her delicate hand, bringing his face towards hers in a moment they had both long awaited. His golden strands of hair fell in his entranced face. The ice had melted from his doe-eyes and the curve was back in his lips, formulating the smile that she chased after.

"I've always liked you too, JJ," she ghosted her lips over his. "Not as a friend."

He tried to stutter something out, tripping over his own tongue, but he was cut off by her plush lips on his own. The pungent liquor that she had been downing in the wake of her boredom met the smokiness that laced his breath. His warm hands found her waist, wrapping her in an embrace that he didn't want her to get out of. Maybe he would wake up in a cold sweat on John B.'s couch, this whole ordeal just a result of attempted manifestation, but he just wanted to indulge in her soft skin and sweet nothings. Even if they were a figment of his imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against her mouth. "Closer."

She whined at JJ's words, propping herself in his lap and kissing him harder. He had been waiting so long for this to happen, and now that he was getting it, he couldn't believe it was real. It was better than he had imagined it late at night when his heart and body ached for her. This was a new kind of euphoria.

If the world was ending, he would have no idea.

“Why didn’t we do this ages ago?” Y/N breathed against him as she left little pecks along his jaw.

JJ melted like a burning candle into her touch, praying that the flame in her that had ignited for him would forever stay lit.

“The Pogue rules,” he answered.

She cupped the side of his flushed face with her hand. She had never seen him so malleable for as long as she’d known him.

“I’d break all the rules for you,” she hummed. “I’m in love with you, that’s it.”

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rosemary-scented-roads · 2 years

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01: A memory from your character’s childhood

06: Something that makes your character angry

08: Something that makes your character laugh

12: Describe your character’s parents

01: A memory from your character’s childhood

It was early morning. She was ditching Bible studies, as usual, and she knew she had 15 min max before Seiji would send Luca after her. Running far away from the church there was only one place that kept popping up in her head to hide, Seijis house.

It was perfect. He would never look for her there and Yui was at school so she would have the whole place to herself.

All of that fell apart when she heard sniffling from the living room. Looking through the window she could see Yui, in her pajamas, cleaning the house.

(Oh, great. So its either this or latin studies with Satan himself)

"Hey! You know, sick people usually stay in the bed and rest."

"Kyaa!" Yui screamed as she turned towards the voice. There she saw a pink haired girl, 2-3 years her senior, clumsily climbing one of the windows she left open. "Oh. You're...you're from the house."

"Orphanage."

"Right...orphanage."

"..."

Morana could see her face clearer now. She couldn't have been older than 10 and yet she was doing more housework than the average teen or even adult. Her cheeks were red, eyes glossy and her breathing rapid.

"I'm pretty sure you've done enough, you can leave the rest of the housework to Seiji."

"N-no! I at least have to mop the floor and make lunch. Father already does so much."

"You really don't. I'm sure he wont have a problem taking care of those things for one day."

"You don't understand..."

Morana sighed.

"Alright. Give me the mop."

She took a step forward, Yui took a step back. Another step forward, another step back.

"Really? You think you can outrun me in your condition?"

Yui refused to look her in the eyes. Another step forward.

Another step back.

"Are you kidding me right now?!"

Yui flinched.

(Jesus...how jumpy can you be?)

"Alright! You win. Do your stupid little tasks. I'm done being nice to you!"

She turned towards the fridge.

"I'm taking a drink and then I'll leave. Can't believe I'll willingly take a beating from the old man instead of listening to his little princess whining."

Yui looks at her shocked.

(What? Did she really think her father was some sort of saint?)

"D-d-don't go!!"

"Huh?"

"If you're going to get in trouble, don't go!"

"Well looks whos more energetic all of a sudden. Too bad though. I've already measured my pros and cons and bloody hands don't sound as terrible right now."

She closes the fridge door and heads toward the window she came in. Passes next to Yui and watches as her her gaze is back on the floor, both hands tightly gripping the broom. Just as Morana was to jump through the window-

"WAIT!" Yui yells and dashes towards her.

"What? Ugh!" she turns as Yui slams herself into her. Without much reaction time Morana wraps her arms around Yuis head and they both end up on the floor.

A few seconds pass in silence. Morana lifts her arms but Yui doesn't budge. She picks herself and Yui up.

"Idiot! Why did you do that? You could've seriously injured yourself!"

Still no response. Turning her over she noticed a few bruises on her arms collarbone. They couldn't have been from the impact since she clearly fell on Morana.

"..."

Snapping back she checked for her breathing. Breathing was normal but her forehead was burning up.

(Great. She's knocked herself out.)

Another sigh escapes her lips as she carries Yui into her room, puts her on the bed and covers her. She then goes back into the kitchen, rummaging through the shelfs and cupboards until she finds a clean rag, wets it with cold water and goes back into Yuis room to put the rag on he forehead.

(Damn, she's not even awake for me to tell her I told you so. Well, that settles it, worst runaway day yet. I'm gonna go to the park and let Luca catch me. I'm so over it today.)

She heads back down. Notices the boxed drink, she was eagerly wanting to drink on her way back, has spilled all over the floor.

(Can this day get any worse??)

Picks up the carton and throws it in the trash. From across the room she sees the mop that Yui was clutching onto a few min ago and her filching comes back into her mind. Cursing underneath her breath she picks it up.

A few hours pass and Morana has finished all the chores that looked unfinished. The floor was moped, lunch was cooking and the clothes have been folded. She headed to check up on Yui for the last time before she left.

Entering the room he saw her still asleep, still with the rag over her forehead. She removed it to check her temperature.

(Thank God its gone down)

She gets up to leave the room.

"I heard you down stairs." she hears a voice behind her

"Yeah? And what of it?"

"Thank you."

"..."

It sounded sincere. For the first time it actually sounded genuine.

"I was never here. You better keep this between us if you know what good for us."

"..."

She went to close the bedroom door.

"Eat the soup while its still warm. And you better go straight back to bed after it. Im not gonna spend my whole day babysitting you, ya hear."

"I will."

"Good."

She locked the door the house and threw the keys into the only window left open, Yuis room.

It was now late afternoon. She was right, Luca or Seiji never found her. For the first time she won their little cat and mouse game but she wasn't really happy about it. Actually, she was happy but that emotion has been buried by a new one.

She met and talked to Yui. The girl she was only allowed to look at from a distance when Seiji would bring her over to the orphanage. Like many people there she didn't like her. And why would she? She was supposedly being treated like royalty, living in a separate house, having her own room, going to public school, etc. while the rest of them took what they could get. She was supposed to be this spoiled brat that she could clown on or scare into stealing her juicebox or something but she wasn't. She was nice and genuine and just as scared of the the old man as the rest of them were. And now, Morana couldn't get herself to hate her.

06: Something that makes your character angry

Morana is a hot head so push her buttons enough and she will explode.

"You fuckin bastard! Ill kill you!" She yelled while flailing her arms and legs.

"Dont you dare let her go Laito!" Ayato demanded as he flipped through her notebook

"Hai～ hai～" he said as he held her by her waist "My aren't we feisty today?"

"Fuck you! Why are you on his side anyways?" Morana demanded as she was looking around for stuff to smash Laitos face in.

"Oh, well isn't it obvious ? I love～ seeing you struggle"

"Hahahha, are these all pictures of Ruki? Damn you're down bad!" Ayato laughed as he started ripping out the pages with illustrations.

"Its called outfit inspiration dumbass! Its not something you're too familiar with seeing how you're dressed like you come out of a woodchipper everyday!" she barks back.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"YOU HEARD ME!"

"Laito, let her go! I'm gonna rip her head off!"

"Not before I put a stake through your heart!"

"My～my～ the house got a lot more fun recently." Laito lets her go.

08: Something that makes your character laugh

As much as she says that she hates Ayato she loves following him when he sets up some kind of prank, eventually even helping some of them happen.

Stealing Reijis glasses when he sleeps? Funny. But drying Caroline Reapers and then mixing them with Reijis tea leaves? Gift that keeps on giving, especially when all the blames lands on Ayato.

12: Describe your character’s parents

She never really knew who her parents were. All she knew was that they were foreigners and that it was safer for her to remain in Japan rather than for them to take her with them.

Thank you sooo much for the ask. Sorry, it took so long to answer.

#diabolik lovers oc #dialovers #dl oc #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers rp #oc ask meme #develop character ask

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isamijoo · 3 years

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Can You See Me

Written for @amortentiaboys (again! lol). Betaed by @fw00shy! Also many thanks to @orange-peony & @vukovich.

Features Unspeakable!Draco in a Soulmate AU.

WC: ~2.6k.

Rating: Teen and Up

A/N: The fic takes place in another realm where they are 'souls' while their physical bodies remain in the 'real world'. Some lines are inspired by Doctor Who.

READ ON AO3

~~~

If Auror Harry Potter had to describe his relationship with Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, seven years after the war, he would use the phrase "in limbo": neither here nor there. Frustratingly stuck somewhere between nothing and everything. Friends? Yes, but not really. Boyfriends? Maybe, but not quite. Perplexing? Absolutely.

Hermione, an Unspeakable herself, had a theory that the problem lied in their inability to communicate effectively. Harry was notoriously bad with words while Draco became quiet and subdued after the trials and induction into the Department of Mysteries.

Except when Draco was drunk.

The first time Harry and Draco kissed, they had just solved their first case together. Harry dragged Draco to a pub, and after several rounds of drinks in a booth, the alcohol loosened Draco's tongue and reduced his inhibitions. Before they knew it, they were making out right in the booth, unhidden, out in the open for anyone to see.

One week later, Harry chanced upon Draco at the Auror Office when the blond came to submit a report. Harry caught his eye and shortly afterwards, found himself slammed against the wall in a broom cupboard by a charming Unspeakable, who was crafty with a Silencing Charm.

They fell into a pattern. They kissed, bit, and groped each other. Although inappropriate, Harry loved these private moments with Draco. He often glimpsed Draco smiling dreamily between their kisses, grey eyes gazing at him with an adoration that never failed to make Harry's heart beat faster.

They never brought each other home. They never went on dates. They never addressed what they did, but not due to any lack of effort from Harry. Whenever he tried to talk about it, Draco would stare at him in trepidation and despair, as though Harry was going to curse him or strike him with a sword. Then he would use whatever Unspeakable skills he had to escape and disappear.

Did Harry find Draco infuriating as hell? Yes, very much so.

Did he also love the git to death? Utterly and completely.

So when Hermione barged into the Auror Office and hurried to his desk as though chased by lightning, screaming "Malfoy is in trouble!", what would you expect Harry to do?

~~~

Harry landed on two feet in a shallow puddle of mud.

He quickly surveyed his surroundings. He was standing in a clearing in the middle of a vast field of yellow wheat. Earthy brown mountains lined the horizon, and a strong breeze chilled him down to his bones, despite his thick Auror uniform and robes. As he looked down to inspect his boots, he realised that his glasses had vanished, but his vision was perfectly clear.

Harry brought his hands to his face, just to make sure. A finger graced his forehead and — his breath hitched — touched the smooth skin over the spot where his lightning bolt scar should have been.

The scars at the back of his left hand were gone too.

He hastily patted his chest, stomach, arms, and thighs. Aside from his eyesight and scars, his physique was unchanged. He still wore the same uniform he had on at St Mungo’s before he blacked out.

As he got his bearing, he felt the air chill and the wind blow stronger. He heard footsteps approaching and immediately grabbed his wand by his hip.

About five metres from where Harry stood, a tall wall of wheat parted and out walked Draco Malfoy, decked in his elegant navy blue Unspeakable uniform. His skin was pale and there were dark circles below his eyes, but he appeared unharmed. His usually immaculate blonde hair was slightly tousled, thanks to the breeze.

“Potter?” Draco yelled, a hand shielding his squinted eyes from the harsh wind. His dark robes billowed out around his knees “What are you doing here?”

With a grunt, Harry tucked away his wand and trudged across the muddy soil until he reached more solid ground, taking note that Draco was also moving in his direction. “Saving your arse, obviously. What the fuck were you thinking? Sending your soul to another dimension?” Harry shrieked. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”

“A place where souls transit between life and death,” Draco replied, not having to shout now that they were within arm's length. “Some people call this place Bardo.”

Anger burned in the pit of Harry’s stomach, yearning to burst. Didn’t Draco have any idea how worried he made Harry?

But his desire to scold vanished when Draco asked, “Why did the Department of Mysteries send you, an Auror? Why not another Unspeakable?”

Harry breathed heavily. The wind was picking up and he figured they should get moving, but he couldn’t move, not when Draco was gazing at him curiously. “They couldn’t locate your soul. They needed me to find you.”

Pale eyebrows rose quizzically. “Why you?”

Harry gazed into his cool grey eyes. “You know why,” he muttered. “Apparently I’m your soulmate.”

Draco’s jaw went slack; no words came out as he stared unblinkingly at Harry’s face.

“Were you planning on telling me at some point?” Harry asked softly.

“Do you have a way to get us back?” Draco enquired instead.

Harry reached inside his shirt and pulled out a silver medallion that fit nicely in his palm. At the centre of the medallion rested a small piece of jade stone, which now glowed red. Hermione had told him to wait until the stone turned green before attempting any more dimension-hopping.

With a small squeak of excitement and relief, Draco grabbed the medallion with both hands. It was still connected to a chain around Harry’s neck, so Draco stood close to the Auror as he ran his fingers over the jade stone.

“A Dimension Transporter, perfected by Granger herself. This is powered by your magic,” Draco said almost reverently. “I can feel it.”

Unable to help himself, Harry took the other wizard’s hand and held it to his chest. “I'm glad you're alright. Don't scare me like this.”

“I’m not here by choice, Potter,” Draco clarified, rolling his eyes as he slowly pulled his hand out of Harry’s grasp. “I suppose now that you’re involved, I can explain how I got here, while we wait for the Transporter to recharge.”

Suddenly a strong gust of wind blasted around them. Draco grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled him towards the direction he came from. Harry followed Draco into the wheat field, but as soon as he stepped between the tall stalks, his surroundings changed. Gone were the yellow scenery, replaced by a vast landscape of a snowy mountain valley.

Draco appeared unperturbed by the sudden change in climate. The wind was still strong here, though, so Harry obediently followed Draco as the latter trekked up a small hill.

At the top of the hill was a small hut, in which they took shelter from the harsh elements. Inside, Draco had arranged several flat stones to masquerade as a stool and a table. On the table sat an emerald green sphere the size of a Remembrall. A small key-shaped trinket suspended inside the misty orb. Numerous narrow cracks ran around the surface of the sphere.

Harry had seen the sphere before, minus the cracks. He was the one who found the sphere a few months ago during a raid. The sphere was unimportant to the case at hand, but Harry had a suspicious feeling about it, and after blasting it with every curse-detection spell he knew, he wanted to destroy it. But Robards stopped him and sent it to the Mysterious Artifacts Division, more colloquially known as MAD.

The idea of the sphere falling into Draco’s hands and potentially harming him made Harry angry again.

“Why do you have that?” Harry’s voice trembled with barely disguised fury as he kept his eyes on the orb.

With a sigh, Draco went to a corner of the hut and kicked a large rock the size of Quaffle to Harry’s feet. “Do you have a wand?”

Nodding, Harry transfigured the rock into a proper stool, complete with a cushion. He then did the same to Draco’s stone-stool. Draco muttered his gratitude as they both settled down around the table, the sphere glowing ominously.

“The people at MAD sent this to my department last month,” Draco explained. “My senior colleagues knew right away that this sphere was previously used by Dark Wizards in the seventh century to extract a person’s soul from their body, basically leaving behind an empty shell.”

Any talk about souls — extracting, separating, severing — always reminded Harry of Horcruxes. Even when Hermione was explaining to him the plan to save Draco by sending Harry’s soul after him, Harry had been uneasy. Their real bodies — both his and Draco’s — were lying in a ward in St Mungo’s, lifeless and dependent on magic to keep them alive. “Sounds like something you should stay away from.”

Draco’s eyes flickered over Harry’s face for a second before he dropped his gaze. “It’s my job to figure out how it works. I managed to dismantle it. See these cracks?” He pointed at the lines over the sphere, careful not to touch it. “I was able to decode the spell inside it, layer by layer, until I reached the key inside. When I touched it with my magic, I blacked out and woke up here.”

“And that thing followed you here?” Harry raised an unbelieving eyebrow, but it explained why nobody mentioned finding any cursed objects around Draco’s unconscious body.

“I suppose,” Draco replied, uncertain. “Maybe it’s pissed at me for taking it apart, and wants to make sure no one in the physical world can use it to rescue me.”

Harry leaped to his feet and pointed his wand at the sphere. “Reducto! Evanesco!”

The sphere exploded into a hundred pieces before vanishing into thin air.

“There," Harry said contently, dropping back onto the stool. "I should have done that as soon as I found it.”

“Good job, Potter,” Draco said sarcastically, grimacing. “Please remember next time you destroy my projects, that I’m the one who has to write the paperwork.”

“It could have killed you!” Harry protested.

Draco shrugged flippantly and rested his elbows on the now-empty table, purposely avoiding looking at Harry.

A few minutes passed where no one spoke. The wind outside grew more violent, transforming into a full-on blizzard.

Harry glanced at the red glow of the medallion around his neck and pulled his stool closer to the other man. "Draco, we need to talk."

Draco's nimble fingers tapped the surface of the stone absentmindedly. "If you say so. It's not like I can go anywhere."

Now being given the chance to address their relationship, Harry didn't know where to start. So he started with the most recent development. "Did you know we're soulmates?"

"Yes. I'm a member of the Soul Squad. We study anything related to the human soul. The Soulmate Detection spell is a simple spell, created by the Unspeakables themselves.” Draco paused before adding. “Of course, I've tried it on myself."

"When did you find out?" was the next question, loaded.

Draco studied Harry's face silently for a few seconds before answering, "After our kiss at the pub." He tucked strands of blond hair behind his ears and cleared his throat. "I was just curious. There is no benefit in knowing your soulmate, after all. It's old magic; interesting to study, but practically, it isn't useful."

"Now, hang on." Harry's own throat constricted. "Not useful? Your colleagues spent 48 hours going round in circles, no idea how to find you, until one of them suggested the soulmate route. They taught me a spell to make me aware of the soulmate connection, and then I could locate you easily." He gestured at the medallion around his neck, pointedly ignoring the green glow of the jade. "I only needed one jump."

Draco gazed forlornly at the device resting against Harry's chest. "Well, it's not typical to find oneself in a limbo world and needing to be rescued, is it?”

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What would that change, Potter?" Draco snapped as his hands started gesturing wildly. "I know how your childhood and teenage years were influenced by a madman's response to a prophecy that was out of your control. Isn't this similar? An ancient, poorly understood magical force dictates who is compatible with your magic and soul. It's not even comprehensive! It doesn't take into account your emotions, your minds, or your physical compatibility. Why do you think the Department of Mysteries never shared this knowledge with the public? It's useless and even harmful in some instances. It gives false hope and robs people of their agency. Not all soulmates end up getting along. They can even be enemies."

Harry tasted bitterness in his mouth. "We're not enemies."

Draco rubbed his forehead exasperatedly. "Then what are we?"

"That's exactly what we should talk about."

Draco's lips twisted in displeasure as he glared at the table, arms firmly crossed over his chest. "I know what you want, but it's not going to work. You'll get sick of me very quickly. You hate when people keep secrets from you. My whole career is a secret."

"Sure, you can't talk about your job. But you're more than that."

"If I'm not an Unspeakable, what am I?" Draco demanded, the unspoken implication hung in the air.

"Draco, you're not defined by your job. You're brilliant and intelligent. I like you for you." There, Harry had said it. He could not backtrack now. “Hermione and Ron can make it work. They even have a baby together.”

"Weasley and Granger survived a war together."

"Didn't we survive a war too?" Harry quipped, earning a frustrated growl from the other wizard. "Draco, please look at me."

After an excruciating wait, Draco turned on his stool until his body faced Harry, though his arms remained crossed. He lifted his chin and locked eyes with Harry, flinching when the Auror tenderly touched his jaw but neither broke eye contact.

"You can't see me, can you?" Harry murmured bleakly. "No, you refuse to. You always work hard for people to acknowledge your work and that's fine but I'm also right here. I'm right in front of you and I'm in love with you. But you don't want to see that. You don't see me. Have you any idea what that's like?"

Draco’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I see you, but... Potter, if I do this with you but we don't work out," he whispered, "I won't be able to handle it. I'm not… strong enough."

Harry felt an invisible weight lift off his shoulders while another, newer and more hopeful, sensation settled in his stomach. "Then let's make sure we make this work," he said resolutely. "It takes effort from both of us. We have to try."

Draco closed his eyes, another protest ready on the tip of his tongue, but he pressed his lips shut together, visibly holding himself back. He was already making an effort.

When he opened his eyes again, he reached out and cupped Harry's cheeks. Draco turned Harry's head from side to side, studying the latter's face. "You're pretty handsome without those ugly glasses."

Harry chuckled. Draco smiled before they both leaned forward and their mouths met in a chaste kiss.

"Thank you," Draco said after they separated, "for coming for me."

After a few more kisses, Harry decided he had held Draco hostage long enough. Harry lengthened the chain around his neck so that it could loop around Draco's neck as well as his own. With Draco's help, he rotated the jade stone a few times before pressing it firmly.

~~~

If Harry had to describe his relationship with Draco Malfoy, five years after they exited the realm of limbo, he would fiddle with the silver wedding band on his left ring finger and grin happily, no words necessary.

~fin~

LINK TO AO3

#wheel of drarry mini exchange #drarry #drarry fic #isamijoo

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onyxoverride · 3 years

Text

“Also??? I am ridiculous. You didn’t had the time to answer my other ramblings about him I AM SO FUCKING SORRY HAHAHAH I just don’t know nowhere else where to go with this shit. So I am just dropping this by you, bc I know your are going to make the most of it and you don’t mind ( or at least I hope so???) Anyways please never feel forced or pressured to answer these because they are just brainrot.

So guys like Twitch Streamer!Zeke huh??? I didn’t plan on add something but some of the other ideas really inspired me so I will extend my thoughts a little lol.

Okay so just imagine, after a few months of playing and streaming with Zeke everyday, he starts to think (he doesn’t do that all the time no no). There are some other Steamers out there who he often plays with and who you Are often playing with. So he starts building a group, you helping him adding members to them. And then you make a twitch streamer house. You all pay a part of it and gather all your Gaming stuff there. Switches, Playstations, computers, everything all over the place. Some even start vlogging and blogging, filming videos to upload them on YouTube. Going out together and eating some from the chat recommended restaurants is now on video too. It blows up like crazy. Zeke didn‘t plan on this to happen, the be honest, he just wanted a reason to move in with you and get to know you in real life, not only through video games and chatting. Of course he likes the other members too but he is found in your room, playing games together and even making music. Because he likes to mess around on the keyboard and with drums and beats a bit. Creates a lofi song from Time to time.

He starts to get cautious and anxious about his feelings because?? What if you liked him better over VR? What if he is not your type? But all of this is blown away as you end the stream one evening a little earlier than he had thought and started to kiss him, finally making a move. And boy is he happy. Immediately takes a little break from the twitch house to get some personal space with you in his or your apartment. While you guys are gone the house starts to get down into real trouble, members are leaving and new members are added without your or Zeke‘s agreement. As soon as you both find this out you leave it be, moving out and moving together.

And the people are lien O.o? Homies dipped for a few days and now are moved together out of the house?? aRE yA TogEThEr? Zeke and you keep it a secret as long as you want it, he doesn’t mind showing everybody that you are his. And deep down Zeke is very happy because...

Well you can’t suck him off under the desk when he is streaming and playing a game when there are other streamers in the same house right? You can‘t keep his cock nice and warm in your cunt when he making another LoFi song, when you are at the streamer house.

Also i want to add another game Zeke is absolutely bawling about: Fall guys. It’s a hate-love relationship between him and this game. He likes the challenge that comes within it but BOY. The other players. PEOPLE STANDING RIGHT INFRONT OF THE GOAL AND NOT LETTING HIM PASS??? Rage quit. Sometimes he will end the stream then and there when he looses and fuck the shit out of you, taking out his frustrations. But as hard as he is pounding you, he is still sweet. He wants you to call him the best one out there, the only gamer who is as good at beating games as filling up this tight pussy.

If anybody is interested yes this idea is a little inspired by the Twitch Streamer House Offline TV I believe? Some names you may know are Fat, Lily Pichu or Pokemane. They are genuinely funny and if you enjoy video games and some good Humor you should check them out (if you got free time lol). Man. I just noticed that my stories this evening are a little bit more soft & shit?? How did that happen? We need to get back to dirty nasty shit. Gimme a few hours and my brain will combine the nasty and filthy shit for y‘all

Also i would like to know if anybody likes Splatoon 2 as much as I do because I have been loosing my shit & time at this game and I low-key think Zeke would play it too but not for too long but is anybody in the same boat as me? Asking for a friend (no for real anybody know Splatoon 2??????) -🍆”

Alright sorry again for taking so long to answer, turns out I can't FUCKING READ IF I DONT TAKE MY MEDS beat me up pls

I do not know Splatoon at all 😭 I am sorry but I may check out that YouTube stuff to think about Streamer Zeke some more... hehe

Streamer Zeke who falls head over heels for you. It's absolutely ridiculous. He's suave enough to become your friend, close enough to start this little house of yours with his other friends like Streamer Porco and Streamer Pieck as well as vlogger Reiner and his little brother who plays games but also films skating video.

You work with him to gather this house together, organizing everything (you requested bean bags and Zeke delivered 10x with giant comfortable bean bags.) Eventually you end up catching on to his feelings for you. No, he never really came onto you. Super respectful of you and your space but he does want to be with you a lot, it's how he shows his love -- with buying you things and quality time. Plus, the blush across his face whenever you playfully flirt with him is priceless. And whenever you dress up nice? He can barely be near you. You look so good he cant help it. Even when you wear sweatpants and pajamas he's simping hard. Hearts in his eyes 24/7. He keeps it on the downlow but sometimes it's so obvious especially when you two stream together he acts different. Biting his lips red and raw and a small strawberry blush settled on his cheeks that only few notice.

Then dual streaming together, (are you streaming in the same room? Is that how it works? Probably not but let's just say it us for now,) he's nervous. He can hide it mostly but then when you two finally fall into a softer more viable atmosphere he can finally breathe and be comfortable with you while streaming. Eventually you're cueing off way earlier than he thought but he goes with it smoothly, turning to ask you what's up before you pull him into a kiss.

He's red. Stuttering out "oh-okay" before you pull him into another long winded kiss, leaning over the arm of his chair to kiss him while he's trying to maneuver his chair to face you and trying to keep his lips on yours. He's pined too long to not have his lips on yours in this very moment. Pulling you to stand between his legs and into one of the most heated and loving make-out sessions. Zeke feels like he's a teen again with you twirling the hair at the back of his neck and him playing with the edge of your shirt nervously.

When you pull away, he pouts. Full lipped pout with a whine sticking in his throat, trying to pull you back to him, and who are you to deny him?

He does sneak into your room to mess with you, even during streams to mess with the little sound board, making stupid little songs while you play. It's cute in a an annoying way, shooing him away with a little fly swatter while he giggles, running out the room.

Eventually, Eren is inviting too many people over, inviting others to join the house without Zekes agreement and as much as he tries to talk sense into him, it's no use. So with this secret relationship of yours, cuddling in your room he asks if you two should move out. He's the eldest so it'd make sense even if the house becomes chaos without him and you don't deserve to he left behind. He knows you find his little brother annoying without even saying anything for his sake. You're getting tired of Armin too, to be honest. Mikasa is nice but paired along with the other two it's impossible to get a good conversation with her.

They aren't even aware of you two moving out before the day comes. All the furniture, gaming consoles, electric piano he likes to play, and more. Including two bean bags that weren't ruined.

I can't get this scenario out of my head but imagine him peeking into your separate gaming room at the new apartment, shirtless and in sweats, strategically staying out of the way of the camera and when you glance at him he's smirking. He's tempting you to end stream and pay attention to him now.

And fuck does it work. Trying to end stream with a little smile on your face while Zeke lean against the doorframe. Thing is you don't exactly hit the right button as you get up, leaving the stream playing while you pull him into the room and stumbling onto him whole he leans back onto the couch. Pulling him into a heated kiss with a hand on his throat, dominating him much more than anybody would ever expect.

It's not like you two ever went explicitly public ever. So the stream is blowing up, skyrocking it to numbers you've never seen before Zeke is patting your back to get your attention. You can barely say anything as you go to really turn of the stream. Muttering a sorry with disheveled hair and clothes and swollen lips to match the actions everyone just caught, both you and Zekes phones blowing up with calls and texts from friends.

"Well..." Zeke sighs and leans back with a bittersweet smile, "now everybody knows..."

You sigh with your smacking against his chest, "I'm sorry, I didn't- that was stupid of me."

He just rubs your back and laughs, "well, that may have worked in our favor. Now we don't have to announce it formally, just respond to the reaction of everybody. Though, they got to see me shirtless and you be all sexy on top of me. I don't appreciate that much..."

Because that's only for his eyes to see, and yours as well. Plus, this will get other streamers to stop flirting with you, so that's an advantage in his eyes. Now you can stream as a couple too if you two wanted. But he does like the keep couple things between just the two of you, a clear divide between his romantic life and his streaming and work life which the both of you two appreciate endlessly. Though... the times when those two mix are fun to say the least.

Sitting underneath his desk while he streams is risky but it has his blood pumping so fucking quick. Cock in your mouth, hallowing your cheeks which makes him want to roll his hips but he has to resist. The blush on his face is already suspicious and the moments he pauses or groans only can happen so often before people make jokes about someone being under the desk. But both of you manage, him cumming as quietly as he can into your mouth with the volume of the game turned high. You keep suckling a bit until he's nudging you off his cock while his works his spit covers cock back into his pants, continuing stream for another hour before ending and letting you finally get out from under the desk.

He'll support you from under the desk too but you're much better at keeping your composure for some reason and it pisses him off. Tongue lapping messily at your folds while your thighs are thrown over his shoulders as you stream. After it ends without you orgasming he goes ham. Trapping you in the chair and fingering you with vigor until you're orgasming at least twice. He wants you shaking so he will have it. He wants you babbling and your cum all over his face and won't stop, moaning when you pull his hair and wetting the towel you set down on the chair before anything was started.

He does make lo-fi music. Loves making songs like that and ends up playing them while you two cuddle and during sweet love making sessions. Sometimes really casual, loving sex where it's missionary -- rolling into each other while his beard scratching at your neck and chest, kissing at every part he can reach. Nails scratching at his back and one caressing his hair away from his forehead, just pure loving sex that leaves you both completely satisfied.

No one can have this but each other, completely separated from both of your everyday lives and people you know. Fingers digging into the flesh of your hips until both of you are cumming, teeth nibbling on your lips as you moan. He turns your face to his before swallowing your moans in a kiss, only pulling back to see your blissed out face.

Yeah, he wouldn't trade this for the world.

#18+ i block blogs with no age indication #◆.aot #❖.zeke jaeger #♥️.🍆anon #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger smut #⚫.answered #⚫.drabbles #zeke smut #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yaeger x reader smut #zeke yeager smut

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daily-rubbersoul-redux · 2 years

Text

Around the same time as Mae Fucking Dying...

"YOU HEARD ME, JACKASS!" Mira retorted, hands on hips, a gesture causing Daito to look and become even MORE confused. Damn authority figures... Like hell this guy was just here for that. What, did he think she was stupid just because she was a kid? Like hell she was! She'd show him! "And even IF that's why your actually here, COP, then I think you'll find that we're MORE than capable of taking care of ourselves! Right Sumi?"

She turned to Sumi for confirmation, only to find that Sumi is Fucking Gone, presumably having booked it as soon as she saw a police officer had shown up. Wonderful.

"Ghhhh... Laurence, back me up!"

She turned to Laurence this time, only to find out that he once again was in Contemplation mode. 'So THIS is where they've been disappearing from.' He thought. 'Interesting...'

Oh for the love of.

Daito meanwhile was simply growing increasingly more confused. "Well, that's good and all, but that doesn't change the fact that it's still dangerous. I'm not saying you're in trouble, just asking that you choose somewhere else to hang out-"

"OH, CAN IT OLD MAN!" Mira shouted, taking a Fight Stance. "That's it, I'm gonna make you beat it."

Daito had no clue what was even happening at this point. Was this normal for teens in this town? He had been told that they were a bit strange, but did this really count? It seemed more like aggressive, really. "Ah, that really isn't necessary, I'm just trying to make sure nothing else bad happens around her-"

He was cut off as Mira Sprang forward and somehow with her 5'3 stature landed a height on this 6'8 man.

Daito didn't even flinch, simply looking even more confused and concerned. "-e. Um. Can I ask you to maybe not punch me? It didn't really hurt, It's just kinda hard to have a conversation like this..."

Mira didn't respond, she just screamed frustrated-ly and, springing back and summoning her stand, rushed forward for another attack.

Cut to 20 minutes later, at the Police Station.

Mira sat in a chair, one hand on her chin and the other holding an icepack to her foot. God dammit- How the HELL was she supposed to know that this guy had CONCRETE PILLARS for SHINS!? Great, and now he was probably going to charge her with assault of some shit... Ugh. And she was so close to being able to afford an apartment too...

She glanced over at Laurence, who was still in Contemplation Mode. "Hey bonehead, WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME OUT?"

Laurence's eyes widened, before he glanced around and then looked at Mira "Eh- Wha- Oh, uh- Sorry Mir, I was distracted again, haha..." He rubbed the back of his head.

Mira WANTED to slap him, but she didn't.

Daito re-entered the room, with some unopened bottles of water. "Alright you two, I'm-"

"What, gonna charge us with something? Put us in the slammer for a day? Come at me." Mira sneered.

Daito frowned, looking a bit hurt. "No, I'm going to drive you home-"

"LIKE HELL I'M TELLING YOU WHERE I LIVE!" Mira interrupted again.

Why did this teenager he had just met hate him so much? "....Do you want a water?"

Mira gave a deadpan glare. "No."

"Oh, I'll take one," Laurence said, Taking One. "Thanks!"

Daito nodded, smiling.

"Oh," He said between sips "and you can just drop her off at my place. My Ma 'll get her home." He gave a goofy grin and thumbs up.

"Oh, alright! Thank you!" Daito smiled again.

The drive to Laurence's place was fairly uneventful, except for Mira stewing with rage in the backseat, and a call in on the radio that another kid had been reported missing.

Laurence looked out the window, debating on asking some questions, but...

Nah. He would wait.

#[neon lights] laurence 'jake' cranium #[up down left right] mira terebigĒmu #[neighborhood watch] daito yasai ne #[rebellious musician] sumi yukikara #an rp thread? more likely than you think #and NOW #WE'RE IN IT FOR REAL BAYBE #this is probably like kinda shittly written but it's ok it's just meant to a. establish daito #b. establish mira hating authority figures #and c. laurence :]#heehoo >:]

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five-rivers · 3 years

Note

The "Young Yagi Toshinori|All Might on ao3 covers everything from him being a toddler to just pre-organ-loss so just-got-ofa-teen Toshi is smol enough. (Altho elementary-school-age Toshi ruining some villain's day would be hilarious and awesome) The into mind plot sounds awesome and I'm looking forward to it. Blackwhip -Vigilante- Underground Hero Yagi (and Izu) sounds like a ride!

Sir, you have inspired me. Have some elementary school Toshinori.

Shimura Nana was having A Day.

First, she’d woken up with her bones aching, a side effect of all the microfractures she’d given herself while getting used to One for All. Second, she’d discovered she was out of painkillers. Third, the convenience store she usually frequented for such matters had been collateral in a villain fight earlier that week, so she’d had to jog to the nearest grocery store (her license level didn’t cover quirk use for personal matters). Fourth, the grocery store didn’t sell her usual brand, so now she was stuck deciding between the grocery store’s generics, of unknown quality, and a slightly more expensive brand she knew would mostly work but tended to make her drowsy. The more expensive and effective brands were a little out of the price range of a person like her.

A person like her being a recently licensed aboveground sidekick who was trying to stay out of the direct spotlight due to the century-plus-year-old supervillain who was currently stalking her due to the origin of one of her two powers.

Yeah, okay. So, there weren’t any other people like her. It was a figure of speech. Who could blame her?

The universe, apparently.

One wall of the grocery store caved in, the force of the blast whipping the scarf off from around Nana’s neck and all thoughts of painkillers from Nana’s mind. One for All pulsed in her fists as she turned to face the threat.

(As always, she wondered, was this it? Had he found her? Was she about to die like Six?)

The threat was underwhelming. The villain standing in the hole was skinny, stressed, and clearly new at the ‘escape’ part of the gig, despite the bulging bag of cash under his left arm. Where had he come from, anyway? The nearest bank was... Ugh. Nana couldn’t be bothered to remember the exact distance. It didn’t matter, anyway.

What mattered was taking the guy down before he got the bright idea to start doing whatever he did to the wall to people. For example, the shoppers who were still standing right next to him.

Was the demolished wall not enough of a hint for these people?

Whatever, they were civilians. Even heroes and policemen froze sometimes.

It would be best to avoid a flashy (and damaging) fight in this scenario, especially given that Nana wasn’t wearing her costume, but a random sweater and some old jeans. She began to maneuver around to the villain’s flank, positioning herself in such a way that there were no civilians behind her. She prepared to strike.

And then, because the universe really had it out for her today, a second villain walked through the hole, this one carrying a crying girl in an elementary school uniform. He also was wearing a truly atrocious pair of shorts. They were some unholy combination between Hawaiian print, stripes, and polka-dots. And the were short. And tight.

The kidnapping only barely beat out those shorts as the worst crime the man was currently committing.

“No one get any ideas, or I’ll kill this brat!” yelled the villain. Their quirk looked like it turned their hands into spikes. Simple, not terribly threatening, but more than enough to kill the kid.

Oh, and now there was another kid, a blonde, peeking around the edge of the hole, glaring at the spike villain.

Okay, from now on, Nana was going to assume that no one had any self preservation, ever.

“I don’t know about this, bro,” said the other villain, shaking.

“Shut up! Hey, you!” he shouted at a cashier. “Where’s Kimiko?”

“She, uh, break room,” said the shaking teen.

The villain snorted. “Come on, she’s got that teleport quirk.” He kicked the back of the other villain’s leg. He stumbled forward.

A number of things happened in quick succession.

First, the blonde kid ran at the spike villain, hitting the backs of his legs.

Second, Nana darted forward, intent on taking out the villains before they could kill the suicidal blonde.

Third, there was a lot of blood.

When Nana said a lot, she meant a lot. As in, a worryingly large amount. As in, anyone who lost that much blood needed a trip to the hospital pronto, and that was if they were an adult.

The wall-blasting villain had evidently realized this, was screaming, and, thankfully, not paying enough attention to anything else to notice Nana coming up alongside him and knocking him across the jaw.

She didn’t have her capture gear with her. She’d have to hope he’d stay out.

Then the spike villain just. Collapsed.

Which is when she realized he was the one bleeding, rather than either of the kids. In fact, the blonde kid, who was utterly covered in blood, was helping to extract the girl from the villain’s rapidly weakening grasp. Which meant that Nana should probably do something.

Yeah, something.

First, make sure the villain wasn’t going to get back up and attack everyone. Oh, jeez. That was a giant chunk out of the guy’s leg, right underneath those awful, awful shorts.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to be moving for a good second. She turned to the kids.

“Are either of you two hurt?” she asked.

“No, ma’am!” said the boy, beaming. Underneath the blood, his teeth gleamed whiter than a toothpaste spokesman’s. The girl shook her head.

“Cool, cool,” said Nana, giving them a grin. “Did you bite him?” she pointed at the villain, winced, and started to take off her sweater. The guy needed a tourniquet.

“Yes!” said the boy. “He’s-- Is he okay?” The smile dropped a little, and he started wringing his hands.

Oh, gosh, he was precious.

“Yeah,” said Nana, brightly, trying to staunch the flow of blood. She could hear sirens in the distance. “He’s fine! People just get a bit dizzy when they, uh, lose this much blood. Why don’t you two go over there, and make sure the police have been called? And an ambulance?”

“Yes, Ms. Hero!” said the boy, saluting again. He practically dragged the girl off, over to the cash registers.

Cute.

The villain did make it into the ambulance. So. Anyway. Time to make sure the trauma wasn’t catching up to the sunshine boy. How old was he, anyway? Five? Ten? Had to be younger than eleven with that uniform, right?

(Simply speaking, Nana was not good at estimating ages.)

She slunk over to listen as the police officer questioned him.

“I just want to make sure you know, Yagi-kun,” said the police officer, who was gently dabbing the child’s blood-covered face with a cloth, “you aren’t in trouble, but we need to know if you used your quirk on that man?”

That was something Nana was curious about, too. After all, the kid had just about bit through the guy’s femoral artery. That took talent. Or a really weird brand of luck.

“Oh, no, sir! I don’t have a quirk!”

The officer stared. “You ran at a villain holding a hostage without a quirk?”

“Emi was crying! I had to help!”

Okay. Nana liked this tiny feral child.

The officer sighed. “Can you tell me your parents’ names? And phone numbers?”

“I don’t have parents, sir! I can give you the number of my foster home, though.” The last sentence was said with significantly less energy than all the ones before, and the boy looked down at the ground, kicking at it lightly.

Heck. If Nana didn’t have All for One after her, she’d adopt right then and there.

But she did.

And her bones still hurt.

Also, she was covered in blood.

Well, quirkless or not, she had no doubt that kid would go far. Maybe she’d see him again, someday.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #ask #answer #yagi toshinori #nana shimura #kid fic #does this count as a kid fic #smol toshinori #feral toshinori #blood #biting

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thethreemages · 3 years

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W O O, so I'm back a bit from the art-grave to finally upload this piece I had completed a lil while ago... the pic in question being some slight redesign/touchups for two of my central side characters of TTM, Noira and Raider Crane~ 💙 Just to keep things a lil fresh and reflecting a bit better of their current character portrayals, so I hope you all enjoy! ^^

More info about both characters can be found below (and here on DA too)~

-Noira Crane (age 16) is Raider's younger sister, Princess Zia's best friend and currently enrolled at St. Ravilda's Mage Academy. A generally stoic and poised young lady with a rather sharp tongue than many would expect... often expressed through well-placed snark at those trying to interrupt her and Zia's "fun" (aka: sneaking around and setting up pranks around the school). When she's not busy hanging with Zia and keeping up their rather limited cheer squad these days, Noira could often be seen competing heavily for maintaining her place up above the top ranked students (of which a certain white-haired prince keeps trying to secure that spot for himself). Underneath her "well-to-do" exterior, however... lies a deep-down insecure girl who often feels pressured to bottle up her feelings, especially with the amount of pressure her parents (Lachlan & Vinia) put on both her and her brother Raider growing up. Combined with the strain put on from Raider's falling out with their parents a few years back... it's left Noira rather scared to delve too much into her own natural Water Mage abilities for fear she can't measure up (even with her folks trying their best to "dial back" for her sake, since she's their only remaining child living with them now). The few things in life that can truly bring a sense of peace and smiles to her face are Zia's company, the success of beating her rivals, and the never-ending bond she and Raider share between eachother... no matter the distance, no matter what. (Fun Facts about Noira): -She's usually never seen walking around without her beloved dog companion, "Misty Belle" (courtesy to my pal @littlechaoticwitch for helping to come up with the name :3 ). The fluffy pup given to her as a gift from her folks a few years back, Misty is quite a sweet lil lady for most who are allowed to be near her. Always eager to follow her mistress around faithfully, snuggling and goofing around the room when left idle, and occasionally chewing at the ankles of those who try to mess with Noira (like, again, a certain white-paired prince who never ceases to push his luck lol). -She was named after one of the earlier Crane family ancestors, "Noira the Victress". Said to have been quite a powerful blood pirate, the present-day Noira Crane has... always been a bit unsure of how to feel about her namesake, despite her father and some other distant relatives seeming rather proud of it. She's still a lil curious to try and research more about her ancestor though, given how popular she was as a subject for numerous campfire stories. -Noira has been diagnosed as nearsighted from the time she was in elementary school, and thus is never seen without her favorite pair of horn-rimmed glasses (an aesthetic picked up from her favorite aunt, Freya). -While her parents have officially stated for Noira to be the heir to their Crane Corp Industries business, Noira is still conflicted in herself of what she wants to do in life by the time she graduates. Whether it'd be to try out being a traveling Mage, or join more of Zia's royal court down in Asteria... its hard for her to decide atm. -Being born a rather tiny and frail baby, Noira was always watched like a hawk by the family-hired medical professionals to keep her safe and protected. She's required to carry a couple EpiPens with her on the day-to-day with how many allergies she has, and Zia always tries to remember to keep a nice lil bag of snacks with her too in case her friend's blood sugar dips too low (as does Raider when he and Noira get to hang out on their own). ============= -Raider Crane (age 21) is Noira's older brother, one of Kain's old school friends and currently making it big as an extreme stunt performer/traveling Electric mage. A bright, cheerful and fun-loving young man who lives to make others smile... whether it'd be for his own friend group or the crowds of audiences who clamor to come see his shows. Yet even with so much going well for him now... it wasn't always the easiest for him growing up before. Living under the roof of his folks who

always kept a tight grip

on him being "the best" (especially by his father), and even facing it worse with some bullying by Kaz's crew at school... it left Raider pretty timid and reclusive for the longest time. Only once others like Kain, Lyra, Briar and a few others taking the time to approach him did his true loveable goofball nature started to sprout for good... but at the same time, something just felt "missing" within Raider that didn't really sit right with him. Knowing how much of a rut he'd be bound to stay in if he kept up things how they were now... he decided by his last few years of Ravilda's to "change" himself for the better. From getting a new "bolder" punk look, working out and bulking over the summer, and taking some social sessions with fellow popular girl Dyani to gain some confidence in himself... Raider returned to the halls of the academy with a brighter, more-outgoing outlook on life now. He started gaining popularity left and right, taught Kaz's crew a thing or two when they tried one last chance to mess with him, and by graduation he was already on his way to make it big after getting signed on by an aspiring tv crew. All was going fine for once... yet back at home, things escalated between his parents (who still didn't seem understanding of Raider's personal dreams over their family business) to where Raider just... couldn't take it anymore. Many words were exchanged that night that prompted the young man to up and leave the family home for good... and never turning back except to now and then check up on his baby sister Noira. As the few years passed up until now, things are still going good for Raider in terms of his work and bond with Noira... though things remain relatively strained and awkward in regards to him and his parents. Whether things will ever truly improve or not with them is unclear as of now... but for the time being, Raider is at least content with himself on being able to finally shape his life the way it should be; fun, free, and fulfilling in its own way~. (Fun Facts about Raider): -Back at his own personal trailer, Raider has a trio of cats he adopted awhile back named "Sprocket", "Buzz", and "Zipps". Having always been a strong cat person since he was a boy (but never getting the chance to own one growing up, given his mom's allergy to them), it was a big dream of Raider's to get his own feline companion by the time he moved out of the house. He went to the shelter to find three kitten siblings who were tossed aside and overlooked among some other animals... and being the big sweetie as he was, Raider was all too eager to scoop them up to adopt them all together. They're quite a funny bunch who tend to get into some trouble if left unsupervised, but are very much loyal to Raider either way with how often they'll form some "snuggle piles" with him once he's off-of-work. -Raider gained his name from his paternal great-grandfather, Raider "The Swiftest" Crane. Originally was going to be named "Odin" (after Lachlan's own father, as was the old man's request many years ago)... but due to a falling out between the two not long before his son's birth, Lachlan decided against that and gave his boy "an even prouder name" to look up to instead. As for the present-day Raider himself, he's always been curious to know more about his great-grandfather given some accounts about him being a "commander of the skies" (via-riding dragons). -From birth, Raider has carried an eye condition known as "Anisocoria"... in which one of his pupils is permanently smaller than the other eye and thus leaving him with some partially-blurred vision. For certain shows of his that take place in some heavy-weather conditions, Raider is required to wear some specialized goggles to help him see through his performance. -His current neon/cyan blue hair isn't his natural haircolor, as Raider was actually born with darker/blackish-blue hair instead. Used to grow it out pretty shaggy and long up until his teens (in where he often hid his face behind his locks at times when he was down on himself)... but by the time his last

few highschool years rolled around, he cut most of it off and styled it to the look its at now as a nice change of pace. Got quite a few compliments on it's initial debut, so Raider has long since kept it around as his own lil "brand". -As most of his friends have all long since went their separate ways after Ravilda's, Raider is the main one who likes to keep arranging for them to meet up on the few downtimes they're able to take off from their schedules. Often likes to greet any of his buddies with the biggest, crushing hugs imaginable (being lowkey touch-starved as he is)... and while not always the most logical thinker in terms of planning, he's the main heart to keep the group afloat in times they start bickering or feeling lost with one another.

#the three mages #the crane family #my art #raider crane #noira crane #my ocs #oc art #side mages #side characters

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orangenfrottee · 3 years

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Hey ho there, feel free to ignore this and I hope I'm not bugging you as I awkwardly slide in here, but I must ask: if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Ah!!! Thank you for your ask <3 I might have spent a couple nights typing out my answer, but in short: I'd cherry pick old story arcs, bring back everyone I like and who doesn't run when they hear Riverdale's calling.

I'd definitely get some decent writers (I'm partial to Jane Espenson, but no idea if she'd be a good fit) and definitely some diversity. I might accidentally fire all men and then play up all their shitty recurring themes for fun as a weird inside joke between me and the show.

I think if they ever gave me creative control of the show it would swerf hard to the crazy and not leave that lane because honestly, i think that's what Riverdale does best.

So, where would I start...

Instead of giving season four a decent ending, I would start with an extra long pilot with the title 'previously on' where the best and most important bits of the teens' school lives is shown with a heavy focus on Jason and the Farm. Parallely, we get to see the lovestory of Chic and Charles. The episode ends with a few very short scenes of the prom where everyone's happy and pretty.

Then we'd start on the real season five. It's been seven years and our characters are older and more grown up.

The show would at first only present the present lifesbof our characters and the barest bones structure to keep as much a little mysterious as possible (but here I tell you what happened during timeskip, too).

Archie is often considered the main character, so let's start with him:

Archie went to the Army after school (though he didn't actually pass his exams and thus didn't graduate, Mr Honey was quite amused). On his most recent tour he met someone special: Eric, his new friend.

Archie was wounded in battle with a... giant mutated elephant with sharp teeth and hallucinogenic venom. Or something. He isn't really sure what happened, but he's got a huge new scar all over his torso. The abs stayed in tact, but oh his pride. During recovery he met new wheelchair user (and on occasion crutches) Eric who has trouble walking since his legs are misshapen/he only has one. Archie thinks Eric got maimed by the same elephant he was, but thinks it rude to ask.

For Eric I'm picturing Sabrina's Ambrose.

With his hurt pride, Archie can't stay with the military and decides to go back to Riverdale.

Eric doesn't have a place to go, so Archie invites him along.

They need a job and since Eric has a calendar full of sexy half naked firefighters AND since they both have abs, Archie decides that type of uniform is the perfect fit for them and trades his newly renovated and well running boxing gym against the old fire station Penelope Blossom owns. (Literally, they even meet at Pop's to exchange keys and sign papers Penelope brought that Archie doesn't even skim.)

The fire station is quite out of everything, but it has a huge pool Eric likes to swim in and a fire truck. To make ends meet Archie sells his sperm to the Greendale sperm bank.

Archie is of course in love with Eric but unfamiliar with the concept of bisexuality and struggles to identify his attraction for what it is. Eric is a foreigner to Riverdale (or is he?) and unfamiliar with the town's culture and quirks. Still, something going on in Sweetwater River seems to be related to him.

Archie and Eric share the Andrews' House - and in the house next door... live Gladys Jones and Polly Cooper!

After Jughead and Betty left for College Alice' horrid mom impulses settled on Jellybean who didn't stand back, grind her teeth and took it but instead broke Alice' teeth. Her and FP were not amused (though FP was also angry at Alice for being too strict). Alice moves out but stays as a journalist in town.

FP gets in trouble for being a brutal gang leader without a gang beating up criminals behind the boxing gym on tape. Not wanting to go to an illegal fighting club prison, he hides with Canadian Serpents behind the border. (Joaquin's identical twin brother and Ricky live there, too. They're happy there.)

Maybe he'd call once or twice with misleading wrong snake facts that have nothing to do with the current mystery of the episode but fit into perfectly by chance.

Jellybean was invited along, but she chose to stay because she thinks Riverdale is rad and the old Cooper House is luxurious as hell. Also, her mom came back to become the new Sheriff!

Nearly seven years in, Gladys still holds the position because no one legally qualified wants it and she manages to keep gang violence at an all time low for Riverdale. Plus, she and Mary Andrews are not exactly friends but able to work well together. When there's another serial killer running wild in town she has no problem with having another girlfriend of Mary who happens to be a skilled professional in the most relevant field take over for a bit. If needed, the Riverdale gangs are usually willing to add muscle to good causes, too.

Jellybean has left Riverdale for university and will only be present for holidays and breaks. She'd still be played by Trinity because I love her and honestly, real nineteen year olds look like fourteen year olds everywhere in the world. Also this gives the viewers 'Archie vision': he will always see his best friend's toddling baby sister in the young woman which makes her the only undatable (legal) female on this planet for him.

While attending Riverdale High she lead the Andrews Boxing Gym and made it the most successful gym in the area. It won't be a plot point in the show (apart from her being angry at Archie for just trading it against trash) but there will be framed newspaper articlesband the like in Gladys' house.

Around the time everyone graduated, Polly was released from Shady Grooves and is back to her old smart self - and really missing her babies! As Choni leave for whatever private college Blossom women have always gone to, Polly takes them and goes home - just to learn on the porch that not only did her mother sell her childhood home more than a year ago without anyone ever telling her, the college fund she never had gotten legal access to and planned to use for the twins is gone too and her sister left town without saying goodbye.

Gladys has always taken care of all the stray kids she found no matter how tight the budget was and now there's this young desolate mother with twin toddlers in front of her posh murder house she'd gotten for cheap and she has this new gig as sheriff. Of course, she takes them in.

They stay in Betty's old room at first, but they soon get to remodel the attic to give Polly her own room. At present, Dagwood has Polly/Chic/JB's old room and Juniper the one facing Archie's. (When Archie sees her in the room, he actually has a flashback once to when he and Betty used to be so young, but then Juniper turns her gead, stares at him really creepily and smiles weirdly. Archie will be somewhat scared from then onwards and be reminded of when everyone thought Polly might gave killed Jason. Juniper would murder.)

At first, Polly's a full time, stay at home mom, but once the kids are older, she starts working part-time: for Gladys.

It turns out they work amazing together. Gladys tends to jump to convenient conclusions and threatens violence way to freely. Also, she is intimidating as fuck.

Polly is everything she isn't: level headed (to a point, in comparison at least), brilliant at combining clues and steering people (remember how she infiltrated Thornhill and made Cheryl unknowingly assist in her snooping plans?). On top of that, she has these stepford smiles and all the ways to appear unthreatening drillend into her head. Honestly, she and Betty are quite alike. While Betty has the lockpicking skills and knows her way around cars, Polly used to be really into fashion (or something) and, with all her experiences at the Sisters, the Farm and Shady Groves, Polly knows psychology.

She started solving some of Gladys' cases at the breakfast table, but now she's officially a deputy or an advisor or something. They're essentially like FP and Jughead, just that Polly is an adult (and that she wouldn't be in a gang beating suspects up regularly).

(These characters would all be mostly in the background though.)

Veronica finally gained perspective on her relationship to her father and grew up. Hiram's cut out of her life for good. They won't ever interact. (In fact, Hiram either moved to New York or he had a minor traffic accident where he lost all of his memory for good and now lives as Ram Rod and works as a trainer at Penelope's newly acquired boxing gym. Everyone is confused about it but doesn't care to ask.)

Veronica is successful at whatever she's doing and doesn't plan on ever moving back to Riverdale, but maybe something is up at Pop's that requires her checking up on in person and she just happens to cross paths with Betty who is also just there for the weekend. And they haven't had quality time together for years, because it's so hard to stay in contact sometimes even with people you love so much you'd die to keep them safe.

If I could come up with something meaningful for them to catch up on emotionally, I'd have them sitting together in a booth at Pop's for a whole episode just talking (but I'm not that deep).

Veronica might be engaged, but we see it fall through without really getting to meet the guy. She mostly just talks to Betty about him on occasion but in a somewhat messed up way. Ultimately, she realises how she treats him in some regards like Hiram treated her and her mother. She wants to grow up further and not be like her father anymore. Since the fiance was only a trophy pawn, she breaks it off and concentrates on introspection/ maybe therapy for a bit.

Later that season her sister comes back and surprise: Hermosa embraced becoming Daddy.

(These would have to be restricted to two half episodes only, she definitely deserves story arcs that aren't about her dad.)

Careerwise: she has a couple businesses, maybe a restaurant chain or a franchise and she seems to collect startups. She reinvests a lot and has to travel quite a bit but can work remotely too.

Everyone seems to want FBI agent Betty and if I'd go that route I'd have her demask Charles as the fraude fake FBI who hires guns for hire and fake emergency teams while making up fantasy horror stories about serial killer genes to scare his biological family into killing each other that I wholeheartedly believe he is. But I also like Betty's interest in mechanics and would love for her to have a career in mechanical engineering. Maybe she switched majors at uni and now works for a company developing prosthetics. Maybe she tries to get Eric into joining a study. (I mean, prosthetic legs would help his work as a fire fighter...).

She's in town to visit Polly and the twins but after talking to Veronica she spontaneously stays in town. She can do her work remotely, really. The two of them move into a two bedroom 'shared bnb' (or whatever it was called in season two) and we finally get to see their friendship on screen.

Betty isn't in a relationship at the moment abd she's so into her work, she isn't looking for one either.

Jughead had broken up with Betty seven years ago and never really had a well working relationship after. He's grown obsessed with finding a way to recreate what he had with Betty.

Not in a totally creepy psycho way, he's simply not understanding that he might be sex positive and he had been in love with Betty, but he is ace and quite aro, too. It doesn't help, that he finds people sexually attractive on their online profiles just to be repulsed by the tought of even kissing them goodbye in person.

(I don't think tv is generally a fitting medium for this, but I guess he can narrate for himself and make it work.)

I guess he has to be an author. Obsessed as he is about finding love again (he wouldn't call it like that) he figures it had either been the location or the constant fear for his life. He chooses to return to Riverdale. He probably instantly moves with everything he owns to Riverdale (not that it's much beside a modern laptop, the typewriter and his camera).

Archie gives the great advice how Jughead is obviously still innlove with Betty, duh.

He of course runs into Betty some day, they end up investigating some random murder together and find themselves in familiar positions and kiss - but it just isn't there anymore. Jughead feels nothing and Betty isn't really into it either.

Veronica later points him in the direction of maybe not being allo (because she used to question herself as aro).

Funfact: Jughead would have failed graduation with Archie if Mr Honey didn't forge some records that weren't actually submitted from Stonewall (they claim all records were deleted during a power outage). Jughead knows and is deeply shamed.

Thornhill has been renovated! Toni is pregnant! Choni will be raising their kids (surprise, it's going to be twins!) in Cheryl's ancestral home. Choni are married and happy.

Toni has reopened the White Worm with Fangs somewhere at the Southside and yes, let's make her the official Serpent Queen. Let her work lots of social causes (remember toys for tots?), grey area rule bending for good and of course she works well with Gladys. I've seen talk about her being a social worker floating around and honestly, I think that works amazing. She's working the local cases (and a few unofficial ones) and I think she and Cheryl are registered foster parents. On occasion (like once) they'd be shown taking care of a random kid.

Cheryl used her College time to study two things: business and Riverdale town history. Remember how in season two she took so much pride in her ancestors because she believed them to be good people? She might be disillusioned but she is the Blossom heiress and her and Toni's as well as Jason's kids will one day inherit a better family legacy. She'll invest in Southside rebuilding projects, advocate for new town memorials, maybe rebrand some of the Blossom product lines. Something like that

She won't run for mayor yet, but she's definitely invested in (local) politics.

Of course the pregnancy was with artificial insemination, the donor was either an unsuspecting red head from the Greendale Sperm Bank or they use some of Jason's that has surly been saved to guarantee the Blossom line when everywhere was scary talk about sperm counts going down due to mobile phones.

In addition: the maple factories need worker bees! Cheryl has a few programs with Toni to get Serpents/random Riverdalians newly released from prison or just with bad luck into a steady job and a cushy appartement overlooking the ex prison on the Southside. Pop's is also participating. Ethel works as a landlady for said appartement complex.

Also, why not add a second Blossom-Topaz lovestory to underline this incest-adjacent show and bring back Toni's grandpa and set him up with Nana Blossom. XD

Then during this season's arc, the Blossom uncle's corpse will be found in the river and the mistery is whether the FBI will figure out who the corpse us and what happened or not.

I love Reggie. Since Varchie is unlikely thanks to Eric, him and Veronica rekindling their relationship would definitely be a possibility I'm into, but he also seems to have an interesting connection with Kevin and Fangs that could be built on.

He would definitely have a car he'd love very much and I think it would still be Bella.

I'm not sure about his career, but it wouldn't include his father's car dealership. Maybe he'd be a successful movie star just in town between movie shootings.

Kevin was doing something with musicals on Katy Keene, I think? Writing or directing? He was trying to nake it big, but some plans fell through. Now he's back in Riverdale. Luckily, they are just about to open Riverdale's first theater in the relatively newly built but forever closed prison. Next to the Southside Theater the complex holds a mall and the White Worm.

Fangs works full time as the manager of the WW that he co-owns with Toni. He meets Kevin again once he's back in town.

Sweet-Pea somehow ended up as a junior doctor at the Riverdale hospital. He spends all of his scarce free time at the WW.

Some of the background Pretty Poisons officially work for the police now. Different than Gladys, they are actually ccccc for the positions they hold.

Peaches works as a manager for one of Cheryl's companies. She's happily married and has a kid (or something).

How long in prison do you get in the US for standing in as the head figure of a crazy pen and paper cult that has literal murders committed in his name? As a blond white dude probably just parole? So honestly, once they actually bring his case to court (and they have nothing against him because anyone could have been under the mask at any one time and people know of different gargoyle kings) he's released of all charges. No one in Riverdale actually knows though since his case took forever, Bughead had already left Riverdale and Alice didn't step up to follow the case. No one wrote about it, so no one knows. They just assume that of course the guy will be locked away forever, he's guilty.

In reality, he and Charles have bought a house somewhere in a different street of Riverdale where they aren't quite known and have adopted a couple kids.

Charles meets Alice regularly for lunch and she thinks he's this workaholic FBI agent only living for solving crime. They play a long con game I don't know the goal of.

(They have been behind the tapes even if that storyline gets totally ignored. They pretend FP being in exile is their doing, but the tape responsible was just a random security camera in the area.)

Josie's plans in New York sadly fell through (I haven't seen any Katy Keene but I want her back)

Lot's of bonding scenes with her brother Kevin who's also back in town. The two share a flat and on occasion burst into song together. Since I've already invented the Southside Theater, maybe she'd find a job there, too.

Val and Melody stayed in Riverdale aftee highschool and made careers in town for themselves. Maybe Melody at city hall and Val as a marketing specialist at the farm, Riverdale's most outstanding new grocery mart. Half of all Riverdalians don't get the controversy of the name, the others either think it's brilliant or tasteless. (Kevin for example has repressed the nemories so gard, he doesn't get it. Josie is very protective and angry at Val for working there.) The store belongs to the eccentric redhaired Eva Everafter or whatever pseudonym Evelyn can come up with to thinly hide her identity behind.

Somewhere in it I'd throw in a few lines vaguely referencing older happenings like "I still can't drink tap water" and the very first time Veronica sees Archie again after seven years she identifies him through his ab muscles.

So in short: Archie would be very dumb, everyone else is just there.

Also: Pop's would serve 50% vegan burgers and milkshakes so I could dig in with gusto.

#riverdale speculation #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale #asks #arsenicpanda #fun #my writing #i guess

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 26

Concussions

Ao3

Summary: Damian wakes up to find he's being buried alive. Of course, the first thing he does is call Dick.

For the lovely and talented @preciousthingsareprecious <3

-o-o-o-o-

Damian wakes up to pounding. A pounding head. A pounding body. A pounding thudding of something heavy at an inconsistent rate above him.

He groans and tries to shift, but he doesn't get anywhere for a number of reasons. For one, his pounding head. For two… wherever he is, it is very cramped.

He cracks open his eyes to pure darkness. With a groan, he moves his arm around the tight space around him to reach for his head. When his fingers touch the back of his skull, they come away wet. He winces. He rubs the tips of his fingers together and carefully begins to stretch his body to try and figure out… just what kind of situation he's landed himself in. One thing becomes crystal clear rather quickly, even with his massive headache.

He's in some sort of box: a wooden box at that, laying on his side next to something lumpy. Above him, the pounding sounds which closely resemble the ricochet of marbles bouncing on tile becomes more and more muffled with every beat.

With a flash of panic, Damian remembers what’s led him to this situation.

In a fit of adrenalin, he turns to his back and forces himself to ignore the body beside him, slamming his hands against the lid of the coffin as two murderers bury him alive.

His brain spins with the action, and it's all he can do to press on the coffin lid with his bare hands and knees. There's not enough room to use his feet.

The lid opens a little, and immediately dirt tries to enter the coffin; some of it lands in his face. He splutters, moves his face, then presses again.

"LET ME OUT!" He shouts.

The pounding of dirt slamming down on top of him stops for just a moment. Just a moment long enough for one of his abductors to swear. "He's still alive?!"

"Just keep going, he'll die soon whether he struggles or not-"

The pounding of shovels dropping dirt down on top of him continues, and Damian's forced to stop pressing on the lid as more and more dirt lands in the small space.

It's already cramped enough in here, with the dead body wrapped in a moving tarp after all.

Damian forces himself to keep a steady breath as his vision spins. His head really hurts, especially laying on his back like this. That one guy really got him good. Damian will be feeling that for a long time.

A long time, that is, if he manages to get out of this alive.

He reaches into his pockets with one hand and uses the other to cradle his aching skull. With every passing second, the stress of being buried alive is just making the pain more and more intense. Thankfully though, his hands grasp onto his phone. It seems like these murderers really did think they killed him and just plopped him into the same coffin as their previous victim without even bothering to go through his pockets, civilian clothes and all.

When he turns on his phone, he immediately winces and cringes away from the stabbing light. Squinting through involuntary tears, he reaches up and turns down the brightness… just to find it was already most of the way down. He rubs his eyes with one hand then uses mostly muscle memory to get to the phone app. He presses the number he's most recently talked to because everything is so blurry and he can't find it in himself to try and actually focus on the squiggling letters and numbers. He can't know for sure if the number he's calling isn't a spam number or not… and he wonders briefly if this is what Richard's dyslexia is like.

He presses the phone to his ear and closes his eyes, trying to calm his breath and maybe calm the pounding in his skull in the process. The dial tone is so loud. He doesn't remember setting it this loud.

Shockingly though, the phone picks up on the second ring, so he doesn't have to suffer it long.

He just has to suffer a new kind of loudness when Richard's voice practically screeches through the speakers.

"Damian?! Where the hell-"

Damian releases a small breath of relief as Richard continues to yell at him for… disappearing. That… that's right.. Damian was supposed to call the moment he got… somewhere...

The sound of dirt falling on top of him is gone. There's no voices. No shoves stabbing the earth.

Just Richard's… oh yeah. Richard is yelling at him.

"-amian anwer me-"

He sounds frantic. Damian bites his lip and then takes a deep breath, forcing himself to ignore the stabbing pressure still persistently digging into the back of his skull.

"Richard," he says. Or slurs. Or something in-between. Either way, he doesn't sound as okay as he was hoping he would. Before Richard's shouting could rise an octave because of that, Damian continues. "I'm... in trouble. Please don't shout…"

And that does the trick. Richard immediately takes a calming breath on his end, and when he speaks his voice is firm, but gentle.

It still aches in Damian's skull, but at least it's not as bad as before.

"Dames, what's wrong? Where-"

"I don't know where… where I am… I'm…" Damian chokes down a grunt as the pain spikes. He clutches the phone so hard in his hands that his knuckle bones must surely be showing white. "C'n you track my phone?"

"We already are," Richard soothes, and Damian let's himself relax ever so slightly. "Can you give anything that can help us?"

Damian almost shakes his head, but then that would make the pain worse. It would also be pointless because he's talking over the phone.

"No… I can't…"

"That's okay, you're doing great. What about the trouble? Are you safe?"

"I'm..." and it suddenly crashes into Damian that he's just been buried alive. He's trapped multiple feet undergoing in a tight space next to a corpse with blood at the back of his head and the taste of dirt in his mouth. He almost wants to cry. He presses against the lid of the coffin and it doesn't budge. "I've…"

"Dames?"

Everything hurts so badly. He can barely whisper. "I'm in a coffin. They buried me alive."

Richard gasps. As does another voice, somewhere in the background. Damian realizes that Richard had said we. Damian might be on speakerphone right now. Who knows how many members of his family are listening in right now.

Listening in to Damian being weak.

He takes a deep, pathetically shaking breath. "Richard?"

"I'm here, Dami," Richard replies immediately. "Jesus… I'm here. I just… how are you holding up- wait don't talk too much. You need to preserve your air and- just sit tight. We're zeroing in on your location as we speak..."

Damian closes his eyes and breathes in his nose and out his mouth. He thinks of all the training he's had, and how he does—in fact—know how to dig himself out of a grave. The only issue right now though is what's definitely a concussion attacking the back of his head and the body he's still pressed up against. It's a tight fit inside coffins even without added company. If he tries to dig himself out, there won't be anywhere he can shove the dirt, and he will surely suffocate.

Drown in earth.

Down here forever, like a seed that never grew. Stuck. Planted to die and be forgotten about. A shard of pain spikes in his chest.

"Richard-" he gasps without meaning to. It's so quiet, but so loud and painful all at the same time.

"I'm here," Richard immediately replies. "We're narrowing down your phone signals, Tim and Cass are already heading towards-"

Damian bites his lip to stop himself from letting out what definitely feels like a coming sob.

"All you need to do is watch your breathing okay? We'll find you. Hey, why don't you try breathing with me? How-"

"No." Damian snaps before he can stop himself. Richard falls silent and Damian wants to scream. "Talk. Just... Just talk. I'm..."

Hurting? Aching? Suffering from a concussion? Slowly running out of air? Afraid?

"Please. Just talk."

"Okay. Okay, I can do that. No problem, Dami."

Damian can hear the strained, forced smile in his voice.

But that's fine, because Richard immediately launches into one of his old stories about his lifelong friends, the original Teen Titans. Damian relaxes his hand pressing the phone against his ear and let's the speaker fall ever so slightly. His hand rests lightly against the corpse… he can feel the roundness of their shoulders and the bulge of a chest. But he forces himself to ignore it all in favor of just... listening to something that isn't cold, unforgiving death.

However, just breathing and relaxing like this… it seems to do just as much harm as talking, but in a whole new way.

He's tired. His head really hurts. He's horribly aware of how harder it is to breathe the more time passes.

But mostly tired. So tired that he doesn't think he can open his eyes again even if he tried. He knows it's bad to fall asleep with a concussion… but right now it's just so tempting. He's sure if he fell asleep now, it will be dreamless. If he falls asleep now, then he'll wake up to the coffin being unburied and him being rescued.

He almost falls into temptation right then and there, but then he becomes aware of someone shouting his name.

"Hmm?" He asks, and Richard exhales sharply.

"You need to stay up with me, Dames."

"I know…" Damian replies, but he doesn't bother to try and open his eyes. "M Just tired. Head hurts."

"Your head hurts?"

Damian nods, then immediately regrets it as the pain flairs. He gasps and tightens his grasp on the phone. Fighting back tears he tries to explain. "Got hit… shovel."

Richard curses. "I thought you were just going to a friends house… how did this happen?"

It wasn't a friend's house. It was a classmate's, but it's pretty common for Richard to get excited whenever Damian spends time with children his own age, even if it's just for a English project.

Damian was going to their house. They only lived a few blocks from the school. But then… something he can't quite recall had him walking towards one of the main roads nearby. There was a… bridge that went over some sort of abandoned parking garage. He went inside, saw… he saw someone… the woman! He saw the woman get killed, and before he could do anything about it the back of his head was smashed in hard enough for him to be barely conscious by the time he hit the ground.

He wants to explain all of this to Richard. But it's all he can do to keep the phone pressed to his ear and force his eyes to open.

"M'sorry," he mumbles. Because it's the only thing he can work up the energy to say… especially with the air ever so slowly getting thicker and thicker, causing his head to throb with increasing intensity with every passing breath. He can feel the pulse of his heart in his temples.

Will he die here? No… no he can't. Richard is looking for him and Timothy and Cassandra are searching the radius of his phone's signal. Surely, Barbara must be the one behind searching for his signal. Father must be as well. They're looking for Damian. He won't die here.

He refuses to die here.

”-ey, Damian!"

Damian blinks, startling as Richard's almost panicked voice reaches his ears once again. "Wh-what?"

"Dames... I really need you to try and stay awake, okay? Listen to my voice."

There's a wobble in his tone. Damian’s put that there.

He realizes he must have missed something said to him to cause Richard such panic.

"We're so close to finding you, Dames. Just… just stay awake, okay?"

Damian doesn't have the energy to even accidentally nod. So instead, he hums, and listens as Richard slowly goes back into his Teen.Titams story, stopping and telling Damian to tap the phones mic every so often to prove he's still awake.

Damian does for as long as he can. He forces his eyes open, he shifts, he pinches his arms. He even imagines the voices of each character in Richard's stories. Yet, somehow, against his will, he keeps finding himself forcing his eyes open without even realizing that he's let them close in the first place.

It's getting very difficult to breathe. So much so that through the haze of his muddled, barely able to focus mind, he notices that Richard pauses every time Damian accidentally lets out a traitorous gasp for air.

It's beginning to smell badly down here too. It's not helping the headache or the slowly growing nausea. He doesn't know if it's the body besides him... or if it's his mind playing tricks on him.

He's been trapped in coffins before. Yet none of them have actually been buried.

Or well, the one time he was in a buried coffin he was actually dead.

But, regardless of that, Damian can say that this is the most terrifying thing he's been through in a long time. Especially because he can feel his own consciousness fading. He can feel the strength in his fingers reducing. He can feel his chest beginning to rival the pain at the back of his head.

How much longer before he's breathing in more carbon-monoxide than oxygen? How much longer until he's suffocating on his own recycled air?

His phone falls from his cheek and he stares blankly at the lid above him. For a second,.he imagines dying down here. He imagines being found too late. He imagines the grave being dug up to find two corpses. The lid being inspected to find not a single scratch from desperate fingernails.

The children at his school told him about a famous ghost and how she died like this. Damian knows Bloody Mary is simply superstition and has no proof of reality, but in these dark, trapped moments he can definitely relate to her fear. Her panic. What she must have felt in her last moments. The anger and terror that kept her soul tethered to the earth.

He can vaguely hear his name being shouted. But he can't breathe. His head hurts. His eyes really want to close.

He gasps, and gasps, and doesn't bother to try and find his dropped phone as Richard's voice dips into a strange, disconnected kind of terror. If Timothy and Cassandra haven't arrived by now, then surely they must not be coming at all.

"I'm- I'm sorry-" he wheezes.

He can see black spots in his vision, even in the darkness of the coffin.

It soon becomes too hard to listen to Richard scream for him. Too difficult to keep his eyes open. Too taxing to keep his brain thinking. Too demanding to stay awake.

He slips into unconsciousness, and the pain slips too.

-o-o-o-o-

He awakens to numbness, trapped in heavy blankets and tied down with wires and sensors. There's something very heavy tied around his face like a muzzle. For a horrifying second, that's what he thinks it is. Panicked, he attempts to grab at what's on his face, but his hands stay weighed down—in both weakness and… and something wrapping around his wrists.

His eyes creek open, and he finds himself squinting and wincing away even in what's clearly dim, soft lighting. He blinks a few tears from his face and looks down at where his hands should be.

Both of them are trapped in a bigger hand. A familiar hand. One Damian could trace the calluses of.

Richard is beside his bed… a

hospital bed, his head laying on the mattress near Damian's chest and his arm over Damian's stomach to hold both of his hands. Richard snores softly, and Damian realizes that he must be asleep.

Instead of waking Richard up right away, he takes stock of his current situation. Besides what he's already found, he can say confidently now that what's on his face isn't a muzzle, but a mask, working hard to resupply his organs with the pure oxygen they need.

Richard isn't the only person in the room as well… father is here. As well as Timothy. However, Timothy is curled up by the room's window, breathing deeply. Father sits besides him, his head leaning back and his mouth open in silent snores.

It's so… calm. Dare Damian think domestic?

He wonders where Cassandra and Duke are. He even wonders if Jason… but he doesn't linger on it.

Perhaps not all of them cared to see him continue to live.

Which is fine. Damian's never expected them to like him.

It's fine...

And… and he's crying. He desperately wants to stop crying right this second and take the pressure of the oxygen mask away from his face. But all he can do is twitch and jerk, try to shift in the impossible weight these blankets hold over him.

Somehow though, in his struggling, he wakes Richard. Then, before he knows it, he's being tugged off from the too fluffy pillows of which he lays. His head spins from the movement, and he realizes there's tight bandages wrapped around the entirety of his skull. However, within a second he finds himself trapped in Richard's embrace.

No… not trapped. Held. Protected.

He clutches to Richard before he can even think to do anything else. He vaguely hears Timothy and father wake up and Timothy murmur something about letting the others know that Damian is now awake... saying something about a food court.

They're all here. Father is here, standing off to the side with eyes so shockingly vulnerable that Damian knows he'll wonder if he’s really seen it later. The others are here, having waited for him to wake up. Richard is here, holding Damian so tightly that it causes a whole new tightness to his chest that's so much more comforting than when he couldn't breathe.

Damian wads the back of Richard's shirt in his hands.

Just this once, Damian allows himself to be held. Be worried over. Be a child.

Just this once, Damian let's himself cry openly and unashamed.

He's okay. He's safe now.

A heavy hand belonging to his father finally lands on his shoulder and Damian melts into the touches.

And he allows himself to be loved.

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ms-rampage · 4 years

Text

Eden's Gate: Left Behind Chapter 4 - Bonding

Warnings: Some swearing, slight cuteness between Kate and Wheaty, slight angst

Word count: 1.8k

Alissa (FC: Rhea Ripley)

Sarah (FC: Toni Storm)

Morgan: (FC: Kathryn Newton)

Ashley (FC: Chloë Grace Mortez)

Layla (FC: China Anne McClain)

Becky (FC: Taissa Farminga)

Ryan (FC: Ryan Potter)

Kevin (FC: Evan Peters)

Ivan and Isaiah (FC: Dylan & Cole Spouse)

Dylan (FC: Joe Keery)

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

5 YEARS EARLIER

March 2013

Payette National Forest

McCall, Idaho

18 year old Paige and 14 year old Kate drive down the quiet lonely roads of Idaho. Working a case on a potential "animal" attack.

Paige driving, and Kate searching the attack.

"So what's the case?" Paige asks keeping her eyes on the road, Kate clears her throat and reads the report from her laptop. "4 people 2 male, and 2 female go camping one night, they hear an unusual sound, typical teen werewolf movie, the 2 guys and 1 of the girls are attacked, and killed.

The other girl gets away bruised but uninjured" she stops reading the report. "Sounds like an animal attack to me" Paige says

"That's what the coroner's said, but they examined the bite marks and they don't look like bites from a bear, wolf or a mountain lion. They said the bones were broken, and the flesh was torn clean off".

Paige thinks for a moment "So a Werewolf? Vampire? Leviathan?".

Kate shrugs, and says "Possibly the bite marks look like ones of a werewolf".

They drive down the road, and stop at a gas station, Kate goes inside the market, and Paige fills up the Impala, as she’s grabbing snacks and drinks, the TV behind the cashier plays the news "In local news the McCall police department have found two more bodies at the Payette National Forest, the identities of these bodies are of George Fillman and Robert Peters".

Kate pays for their stuff and leaves the store, Paige is done filling up the car. "Well they found 2 more bodies in the forest".

Paige sighs as she puts the pump back "Son of a bitch" she says frustrated. They get into the car and drive to the forest.

END OF FLASHBACK

__________________________

Kate is with her friends Morgan, Sarah, and Alissa hanging out in the grass area of the quad of their college campus. During their mandatory 1 hour lunch break from work.

Talking to their friend Sarah about what happened at the diner the day before.

“Yeah for real. Holly was pissed” Morgan says to Sarah.

Kate and Alissa, laugh at this.

“Yeah, she was pissed off because this guy. I guess him and Holly had a thing in the past. He was flirting with Kate” Alissa adds.

Sarah turns to Kate “For real?!?”

She nods her head “Yeah. I felt his eyes on me the whole time”.

“I told you. He wants to fuck you!!” Morgan exclaims.

Kate shrugs, and says “Well he did ask me out”.

They all stare at her in shock, “Yep, he definately wants to fuck you” Alissa says.

“When are you two going out?!?” Sarah asks.

“Tomorrow. After work, he’s gonna take me for a ride in his plane” she replies.

They all gasp at the same time. “Are you sure that’s not code for something else??!” Morgan asks.

Kate shrugs as a reply. Unsure but kinda hoping it is.

“Well maybe, he does wanna have sex with you!!” Sarah says.

“What was his name?!” Morgan asks.

“John. I didn’t get his last name, but he also mentioned he’s a lawyer” Kate replies.

“Damn girl, going after the rich ones” Sarah jokes.

They all laugh. None of them don't know of the Cult that’s growing in Hope County. They’re all new to the whole town, and its residents.

Kate has known Sarah, and Alissa for 4 years, they met in University back in Wyoming. Morgan, she’s known her pretty much her whole life, she’s a hunter as well. Their mothers were childhood friends.

Alissa changes the subject to something else.

“So, about tonight?!. The get together!! The Whitetail Mountains!!!” she says.

“Yes, we’ll be there” Morgan says.

“Kate are you going?!” Sarah asks.

Kate hesitates on her reply. Not sure if she wants to go after all.

“Of course, she'll be there. I’ll pick her up, and take her home” Morgan says before Kate could answer.

“Who else is gonna be there?!” Kate asks.

“Becky, and Ashley the Junior Deputies, Ryan, Kevin, Dylan and a few others” Alissa says.

Sarah checks the time on her phone, and immediately stands up. “Shit, my next class starts in 5 minutes. I’ll you guys tonight” she says, running to class.

They bye to her, and head back to the diner. Having to deal with Holly for another 5 in half hours.

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

At Joseph’s compound, John enters the church, and sees his older brother sitting at one of the pews. He approaches him, and stands next to him as he remains sitting down.

“The girl?” Joseph asks. His voice soft, and calming.

“I’m seeing her tomorrow” John replies.

Joseph stands up, faces him, placing his hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

“I’ve seen her. Make her a wife. A mother. God has plans for the both of you” he says.

He nods, “Yes, Joseph. I will".

“What do you know of her?” he asks.

John tells him everything he knows about Kate.

“Her name is Kate. She works as a waitress, she’s a student and from Phoenix. Lived in Jackson, Wyoming”.

“God was right. Make her a part of our family. The Lord knows. He knows what he’s doing. Don't let her go."

John nods again, “Yes Joseph”.

“She must not be harmed in any way. Tell my Children not to do her any harm. I don’t want her to be scared away. You must protect her” he adds.

He nods once more, “Yes, Joseph I'll tell them, and I will do everything to protect her".

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

Several hours later, Kate, Morgan and Alissa leave the diner, finishing their shifts. Walking to their cars.

“I’ll pick you up at 7:30!!” Morgan yells out to Kate.

“Okay!!! See you then!!!” she yells back, and enters her car. Driving home.

10 minutes later, Kate pulls into her driveway, and goes inside her house.

Dropping her stuff to the floor in a dramatic fashion.

Haley wagging her tail excitedly at her owner.

Kate lets out an overly exaggerated groan, “Fuck!!!!’ she says, tired.

She drops herself onto one of her chairs. She really needs to get a couch in this house.

After a few minutes, she gets up and takes a shower.

The warm water feels fantastic against her skin, relaxing her muscles. After 15 minutes, she gets out, drys off and changes into some clean clothes.

Jeans, high top Vans, and a flannel shirt. Her usual attire.

She chills on her chair, watching tv, waiting for Morgan to pick her up. 7:30 rolls around, and she hears a honk outside her house.

She gets a message on her phone “I’m here!” - Morgan.

Kate gets up, grbs her jacket, locks up her house and goes into Morgan’s car.

“Sup” she greets her, followed by a smile.

“Hey” she responds, with a smile of hers.

They drive to the Whitetail Mountains, catching up, laughing and reminiscing.

“Remember when we were 10, working a case with our moms in Rogers, Arkansas and we put a mix of horseshit, dog shit and cow shit in that racist old man’s gas tank of his car!?!” Morgan asks laughing.

“Shit, yeah I remembered that, and we never got in trouble” Kate says laughing.

“So how’s Paige doing?!. How did she react to you wanting to leave the hunting demons, and ghosts life behind?!” she asks.

Kate stays silent for a moment, looking down, then out the window. Then back to Morgan.

“She’s doing good. She wasn’t mad, but umm”. She goes silent for a moment.

“She-she was disappointed,” she says hesitantly, looking out the window again.

Silence fills the car once more. Morgan breaks the silence, asking her.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. But, you know I love Paige, I think she’s an awesome person. But do you think she holds you back?”.

She stays silent again, looking down at her hands.

“Sometimes” she mutters. “Sometimes” she says again, slightly louder.

“But she’s my sister. She basically raised me, protected me, and I know all the times where she held me back was because she wanted to protect me”.

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

They make it to the campsite. The only bonfire in the dark wooded area.

They get out, and approach the bonfire.

Alissa, and Sarah arrive at the same time they exit their vehicle. They stop and wait for them to catch up.

“So how do you feel about not hunting monsters anymore?” Morgan asks her, practically in a whisper.

“It feels great. I’ve been wanting this for a long time now” she answers.

“You know, even if you call it quits. Those bastards don’t stay away” she reminds her.

Nodding her head, “Yeah, I know but I have faith that they won’t come around” she responds.

Alissa and Sarah catch up with them, and they walk the rest of the way to the fire pit.

They approach their group of friends, who are sitting around a bonfire near the lake.

The moon shining off the water.

"Hey guys" Morgan says, approaching the group.

"Hey, it's about time you 4 showed up" Ryan jokes.

Their friends group is Hope County Junior Deputies Becky Taylor, Layla Michaels and Ashley Saunders.

Classmates Ryan Cho, Dylan Paulson, Kevin Baker, and the Wren twins Isaiah and Ivan.

Lastly, Wheaty who is a member of the Whitetail Militia, and host of the Whitetail radio. Playing pirated music.

"Yeah, well I had to make a multiple detours to pick up Sarah because of some stupid redneck fucks" Alissa says annoyed, rolling her eyes.

Wheaty who is looking down, looks up and his eyes immediately go to the short brunette of the group, Kate. Staring at her, unable to look away from her.

"Wow, she's really cute" he thinks to himself.

The 4 of them sit around the fire with their friends, and Kate sits next to Wheaty.

She gives him a little smile as she sits next to him, and his heart skips several beats.

"H-Hi" he says nervously.

"Hi" she replies with a smile.

"Are you new here?" he asks, trying to keep his cool.

"Yeah I just moved here last week" she answers.

"You go to the University?" he asks.

She nods her head, "Yeah, I'm a psychology major".

They talk for a few minutes, as well as everyone else, and Ashley steps away from the bonfire.

"That damn heat" she whines exaggerating, waving her hand in front of her face.

Morgan looks over at Kate and says.

"Girl, don't say anything about heat, or hot weather around her" pointing her thumb to her.

Ashley looks at Kate with confusion, and a slight head tilt.

"Yeah I'm from Phoenix, Arizona. So if anyone knows hot weather it's me!" she jokes, chuckling.

"So you're from the desert?" Wheaty jokes.

"Yeah basically, I was born there in August, where it's literally Hell, and then my family moved to Jackson, Wyoming" she replies.

“How’s life in Wyoming?!” Ivan asks.

“It’s pretty boring” she jokes, “But it’s really peaceful, you get used to it after awhile”.

Everyone talks, gets to know each other. Kate and Wheaty spend the whole time talking. Getting to know each other. Wheaty can feel his feelings for Kate grow by the second.

They even exchanged numbers, as well with everyone else.

Wheaty has never had a crush on anyone until he saw, and met Kate. He got more information about her, than John did researching her.

After 12am, everyone parted ways, said their goodbyes and went home.

Morgan dropped off Kate at home, and she practically passed out the second her head hit the pillow.

#far cry 5 #john seed #kate winchester #john seed x oc kate winchester #kate winchester x wheaty #joseph seed #my ocs #my writings #fc5 #the seed family #paige winchester #my ocs are my children #eden's gate: left behind #john seed x kate winchester #far cry 5 wheaty #wheaty x kate winchester

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insomni-snacc · 5 years

Text

Mx. Shoggoth, I Presume? Part 2

Now 100% more gender inclusive! Also, I lied about updating next week, I'm doing it today! Instead of making costumes! *cries in procrastinate*

A Handful of Proposals

"I never expected things to get this far," Lydia groaned and flopped over on the couch, slightly muffling her words with one of Dilia's extravagant throw pillows. "I just… I didn't want people to know I had some sort of live-in babysitter, and they already knew about 'Uncle BJ' so I just started calling you Aunt/Uncle Y/N and… then people just started assuming you were married and I didn't know what else to say and then they all wanted to meet you guys and so I mentioned-the-trip-and-now-youre-chaperones-and--"

"Whoah-ho-ho girl, slow down. We're not upset." You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was a bit surprising to see the teen so flustered. You wanted to make sure she knew everything was alright, even if she did basically fake-marry you to a demon behind your back.

"You- I mean, we're not?" Your 'husband' sounded a bit off. You shot him a questioning look, still comforting Lydia.

"No, we're not. And you know what? Having to pretend I'm shacking up with this old bug is a pretty small price to pay for a family trip to NOLA." You pulled the pillow from her face to give her what you hoped was a reassuring look. You added some finger guns for good measure, just to reassert your Cool Status. Yup, so cool.

"So, you're still going?" Lydia perked up.

It was Beetlejuice's turn to be reassuring. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, doll. Besides, no other chaperones would let you get into as much trouble as this dynamic duo." He pulled you into a headlock and ruffled you hair. "Isn't that right, my other half?"

Seeing Lydia smile was definitely worth whatever hell this demon was planning on putting you through. You laughed and spun in his arms to release his headlock, throwing in a light jab to his gut for good measure. "Yeah, it'll be fun! There's way more than just cemeteries to check out, too. I know you're there for you music class, so I was thinking we could--" you paused when you felt an odd weight on your left hand. You lifted it to you face to find a comically large engagement ring, nearly as big as your fist. "Beej."

"What? Just gotta let 'em know you're mine, babes."

You tossed the ring at his head, and he moved to catch it out of instinct. The moment it made contact with his hand, it burst into a nest of spiders. He gasped before quickly snapping them away. He met your seething glare with a sheepish grin. "That wasn't supposed to happen for about another hour. Still, gotta love a man with a sense of humor. Right, schnookums?"

"I know your games, hun." You pulled him to your eye level by his tie, using the pet name as venomously as possible, "try to make the next one a bit less obvious."

You failed to notice the slight pink twinge in his hair as you sauntered off, satisfied with your mock threat.

The Ghost with the Most proposed to you another six times that week, if you could call them proposals. Each time, either the ring or Beetlejuice transformed into something meant to terrify you, or the proposal was so cartoonishly romantic that you would shut it down immediately.

Frankly, the one where he created a barbershop quartet of BJ clones to serenade you with crude songs was your favorite, but you couldn't tell him that. He was your friend - your hilarious, charming, socially awkward friend - but the last thing you needed was that smug look he always gave you when he knew he'd made you laugh.

It wasn't until you were loading your luggage into the car that he had so much as looked at you with anything but mischief in his eyes.

Beetlejuice slinked up to the car with a look that, had you not known him better, could have passed for humble. He fiddled anxiously with something in his pocket.

"Hey… can you uh… can you come with me?"

You nodded, following him to the back of the house. He only turned to look your way again once you two had reached the back porch. He ran a hand through his pink hair and steeled himself. For the first time since you'd met him, there was a beat of silence between you and Beetlejuice. Uncomfortable and worried for your friend, you decided to be the one to break it. "What's up, Beej? Everything ok?"

He cleared his throat and straightened. "Yes."

"... Are you sure? I haven't heard a 'tootse' or 'babes' in the last ten minutes, and you're pinker than an Amazonian dolphin. I know pink means you're uncomfortable, so what's up?"

"What? Pink doesn't mean --" he shook his head "Nevermind. What I wanted to say was… well, I wanted to give you this." He thrust his hand from his pocket, pressing a small black box into your palm.

You held it curiously, slowly lifting the lid with your other hand. Inside was a simple, tarnished, silver engagement ring with a small black stone. It looked to be fairly old, definitely not from this century, at least. You met his eyes and could have sworn you saw a glimmer of something new in his expression that took you by surprise. Before you could place it, he looked away, scratching at the back of his neck.

"Look, I know I joke around a lot, but if we're gonna do this whole marriage - er, faking thing, we do need the proper accessories. It's not like I ever got a chance to do this properly anyway so… you know. Will you?" He forced himself to glance at your for just a second before shyly turning away again.

"Will I what, Beetlejuice?" You were a bit surprised at how breathy your tone was, barely above a whisper.

He cleared his throat again, shaking himself a bit before taking your hand with a small smile. "Will you be my fake spouse?" He gently slid the ring onto your finger and allowed himself a small chuckle in a bid to come back into the cool, aloof personality he had grown to depend on.

You grinned right back at him, completely unaware of what you were doing to his poor, undead heart. "Of course, can't think of anyone else I'd rather be fake married to, Bug."

Part 1 here:

#beetlejuice #broadway #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice the broadway musical #beetlejuice the musical

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ambrossart · 4 years

Text

PAPER MEN

— CHAPTER 6

SUMMARY: All Evelyn Tozier wanted to do was make Derry High School a safer place for her kid brother. Well, somewhere between kissing Patrick Hockstetter and telling the principal to go f*** himself, things got a little off track. Now she’s stuck in the middle of a bizarre love triangle with two of Derry’s most troubled teens while her little brother and his friends hunt down a creepy, child-eating circus clown. This year, summer can’t come fast enough. PAIRINGS: Henry Bowers x Tozier!Sister; Patrick Hockstetter x Tozier!Sister WARNINGS: violence, profanity, sexual content, bullying, sexual assault, physical abuse, emotional abuse, all kinds of abuse, trauma, mental illness, implied/referenced self-harm, child death, angst, lots of angst, recreational drug use, underage drinking, underage sex, love triangles, toxic relationships, slow burn, slow build

WORD COUNT: 3,714

MASTERPOST

MASTERLIST

"Where's your brother?" Evelyn heard her mother ask for the fifth time.

For the fifth time, Evelyn put down her pencil; then she sighed. Her math homework would have to wait.

"He's probably at the arcade," she said, grasping the first thought that came to her mind. "Got sucked into another battle for some unreachable high score or something." Street Fighter was his latest obsession. He was determined to beat Grant Elmhirst's top score. Fat chance of that. Grant was a camper; the guy practically lived at the arcade, and his pockets were always stuffed full of brass tokens. "In any case, I'm sure he'll be home soon." Richie never missed a homemade meal, even if it was something gross like tuna casserole.

"I hope so..."

Maggie Tozier was elbow-deep in soapsuds while a pot of water boiled on the stove. She leaned back to look at the clock. It was almost six. Strange, it wasn't like Richie to be so late, not on a school day. He would usually come home around three-thirty and dig through the fridge for a snack, maybe even make himself a ham sandwich if that day's lunch was especially unappealing. Then he would sit at the breakfast bar and tell her about his day while she scraped off egg and burnt-on grease from the morning's dishes. She'd laugh at his jokes, pretend to understand them, and when he was finished, she'd take his dirty plate, and he'd run out the door again.

But he should have been home by now. Something wasn't right.

Maggie threw down the sponge and rushed to the phone, hands still dripping with soap. She dialed the Denbroughs' number.

"Sharon, hi, it's Maggie." She twisted her finger around the coiled cord until the tip turned purple. "Hey, my kid isn't over there, is he...? Oh, no, everything's fine. He just hasn't come home yet is all, and I thought he might be... Okay, yeah, I'll try there next. Thanks. Buh-bye."

She pushed down the switch and called Sonia Kaspbrak. If Richie wasn't with Bill, then he was probably with Eddie.

"Hi, Sonia, sorry to bother you while you're cooking, but I was just wondering if Richie was at your house. He hasn't come home yet, and I'm starting to get a little concerned... Uh-huh... Okay... Wait, I'm sorry, what...? No, he doesn't normally do this. He knows better than to... Oh, come on, you can't be serious. I certainly do not let my kids run wild."

Steam started seeping out from the pot. Evelyn got up and dumped in the noodles, gave them a stir, and set the timer for eight minutes.

"Look, my kids are perfectly well-behaved, okay? And you know what, I don't appreciate you telling me how to raise my children. In fact, I don't think you're qualified to give anyone parenting advice, you crazy, judgmental bitch!"

Maggie slammed the phone on the hook and clawed through her hair with both hands. "My god, that woman is insufferable! Absolutely insufferable! Did you hear her? She had the nerve to call me a bad mother. Me!" She put her hands on her hips. "You know, Marge, if you didn't work so much, maybe you'd have a better hold on your kids. Well, I'm sorry I have to work to put food on the table! Unlike you, I don't get to sit on my ass and watch TV all day!"

Evelyn held in a laugh, but a small giggle escaped anyway. "Wow, let it all out, Mom. Tell us how you really feel." She set the oven to 425.

"Oh, no." Maggie sank into the nearest kitchen chair. The guilt was hitting her now, sitting in her stomach like a pound of spoiled beef. She felt like she was about to throw up. "Oh, I can't believe I called her a bitch."

"A crazy, judgmental bitch." And everyone wonders where Richie gets his trashmouth. Her little brother would be so proud.

"Did I really say all of that out loud? Shit." Maggie dropped her head into her palms. She'll never forget that. Sonia Kaspbrak knew how to harbor a grudge better than anyone. When the boys were in elementary school, she shunned Maggie and Wentworth for a whole year just because Maggie dared to criticize her potato salad at the summer potluck. It was bland and watery, and it made her husband sick, so Maggie refused to apologize for something so silly. "Well, I don't think Eddie will be allowed over here for a while, if ever." She lifted her head. "Sweetie, can you take the wine out of the fridge, please?"

Evelyn grabbed the leftover chardonnay from Friday night's dinner and poured her mother a generous glass. It was gone in three big gulps, vanishing before her eyes like one of the magic tricks her brother used to perform in the living room.

(And, poof, it's gone, ladies and gentlemen! Have you ever seen anything so amazing?)

Evelyn hated seeing her mother like this. "Do you want me to go look for Richie? I will if you want. I'll go right now. I'm sure he just lost track of time." Richie didn't carry a wristwatch. He used to, but he kept breaking it.

"You're probably right." Besides, her husband would say, what kidnapper would want our son? Five minutes of his yapping, and they'd drop him right back on our doorstep. You know I'm right. Sorry, Mags, looks like we're stuck with the kid.

Maggie would have laughed if she wasn't so close to tears. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's just... you know, with everything that's happened..."

"With the Durseys." Evelyn understood. "You don't have to apologize."

It was around this time last year that Gracie Dursey went missing. Evelyn had seen her that afternoon while she was sitting on the porch and lacing up her skates. Gracie had wanted to come with her. (I'm good now, Evie! I almost never fall.) Next time, Evelyn promised. Next time, she and Gracie would do a couple of laps around the neighborhood and then get some ice cream at Barton's. Mud pies were her favorite.

The kitchen timer beeped. Maggie Tozier got up to drain the pasta.

"I still feel guilty," Evelyn said. "I know I shouldn't, but I do. I should have just taken her with me."

When she got back, Gracie was gone. Her pink tricycle was sitting at the end of the Durseys' driveway, but Evelyn hadn't thought much of it. She just assumed Gracie had forgotten to bring it in again.

"You couldn't have known," her mother said. "Nobody knew. Nobody thought it could happen here." Derry was a safe, quiet town. That's why she and Went decided to move there when Maggie found out she was pregnant. Everyone said it was a great place to raise children.

Raise them for the slaughter.

No. Maggie Tozier pushed that thought away.

"They moved today," Evelyn said. "I still can't believe it. Every time I look across the street, I expect to see their car out there. Stevie shooting his basketball. Gracie riding her tricycle, ringing that bell that drove everyone crazy." (Ting!... ting-ling... Ting!) "Dad wanted to break the darned thing off."

(Ting!... ting-ling...)

Click.

The front door was opening. Evelyn let out a relieved sigh. "That's probably Richie."

"It sure as hell better be." Maggie closed the oven door and stormed out of the kitchen. Evelyn followed a few steps behind, knowing her little brother was about to get a good ripping. "Richard James Tozier, you had better have a damn good reason for being so—"

Both women gasped when they reached the entryway.

The front door was still open, letting in the evening breeze. Outside, a car engine revved and tires squealed. Richie shut out the sound with a hard slam of the door, throwing all his weight against it. Then he stayed like that for a while, with his forehead pressed against the door, back trembling, shoulders heaving as he panted. When he finally stepped away, a small smear of blood remained on the white paint.

Weird, Evelyn thought, it almost looked too bright to be blood. Was this another one of Richie's dumb jokes? She was waiting for the punchline.

Her mother put her hand to her mouth. "Richie, what happened?"

His glasses were gone. Funny how that was the first thing Evelyn noticed. His face just didn't look right without them.

"I, uh, fell off my bike," he said, squinting. He lifted his chin to show off the scrape. "The chain came off again. Stupid piece of shit." He choked out a laugh, then winced and clutched the left side of his face. A bruise had already started to form where his hand was, and his bottom lip was swollen and split at the left corner.

"You fell, huh?" Maggie put her hand on her hip. "And, what, the ground punched you?"

Richie nodded, sniffed, and rubbed his bloody nose with his fist.

Maggie Tozier looked like she had more to say, but all that came out was a heavy sigh. "Well, I hope you punched it back." She put her arm around his shoulders and guided him toward the stairs. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. I think I still have your old glasses in a case somewhere. Sure hope I do, or else you'll be bumping into walls until we can get you a new pair."

The stairs creaked as they went up together. Evelyn stayed below, haunted by the red mark on the door. It got bigger and bigger with every blink of her eyes.

"I think I might've sprained my wrist," Richie said quietly.

"All right, we'll take a look at that, too." Maggie hugged him close. "I'm just glad you're okay. You had me worried sick, you know. Did you walk all the way home?"

Evelyn suddenly remembered the car outside, how it had sped off in such a hurry.

"No," said Richie, "I got a ride."

David and Tabitha Criss lived five houses down, in a small cape cod with white siding and a glossy red door. It looked the same as when Evelyn was a kid, right down to the flower beds and the basketball hoop that no one ever used. Victor had never taken to sports, but Mr. Criss sure liked the way it looked in the driveway. He thought if he left it there long enough, Vic might one day pick up the ball and decide to give it a try. Eight years later, the ball was still in the garage, half-deflated and tucked in the corner behind the lawnmower that Mr. Criss had yet to fix.

Evelyn felt weird standing in front of the house now. The last time she visited, she wasn't even tall enough to reach the tiny brass knocker.

This time, she decided to ring the doorbell.

"Just a minute!" Mrs. Criss called from inside. Her voice sounded exactly the same: light, sweet, and melodic. When she was a kid, Evelyn was convinced that Tabitha Criss was secretly a Disney princess. It was her go-to Halloween costume, after all.

But the woman who answered the door looked nothing like the cheerful princess from Evelyn's memories. She looked exhausted and overworked, ready to pull out her hair at any moment. Mrs. Criss was wearing a dirty kitchen apron over a mustard yellow turtleneck that seemed a size too small for her now-chubby frame. She still wore her hair the same: long and feathered like one of those classic bombshells from the seventies, only now it was thinner and peppered with tiny specks of grey.

"Evelyn," she said, her tired brown eyes sparking with life. "Wow, what a pleasant surprise! Look at you, all grown up and so tall and beautiful... Gosh, I almost didn't recognize you!"

She had to say that, Evelyn thought, because that's what adults did. Her aunt and uncle said something similar at Thanksgiving, and it made her feel a little awkward.

Evelyn forced a smile. "Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Criss—"

"Oh, it's no bother. I'm just finishing up dinner. I've got chicken roasting in the oven and garlic mashed potatoes on the stove." The smell was wafting out of the kitchen. It made Evelyn's stomach growl. Mrs. Criss must have heard it because she immediately invited her to stay for dinner. "I made plenty, and we'd be more than happy to have you."

It was a hard offer to turn down. "Thank you, but I have dinner waiting for me at home, actually. Tuna casserole." Evelyn cringed a little as she said this. Her mother never was much of a cook. "Anyway, I was just wondering if Victor was home."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "Yes, actually, he came home just a bit ago. Went right up to his room because that's what he does now." She started laughing, but Evelyn didn't get the joke. "Feel free to head on up. I'm sure you remember the way. Oh, but please take off your shoes before going upstairs. I just shampooed the carpet."

Evelyn saw Vic's dirty boots sitting on a rug near the door. "Sure thing, Mrs. Criss. Thanks." She took off her shoes and placed them next to his before heading upstairs.

The stairway wall was covered with framed family pictures: Mr. and Mrs. Criss on their wedding day, old black-and-whites of long-deceased relatives, and of course, childhood portraits of their only son. Halfway up was a picture of Victor in the second grade. He had a horrendous bowl cut and a gap-toothed smile, but he looked happy, happier than she'd seen him in a long time. Evelyn couldn't remember the last time she saw a genuine smile from Vic. Now he just always looked annoyed.

She took a left at the top of the stairs and opened the second door.

"Oh, sorry—"

At first, Evelyn thought she had accidentally stumbled into the wrong room. It was as dark as a cave and had this earthy, musky, almost skunky smell that made Evelyn's nose wrinkle at her first whiff. She covered her nose with her sleeve and poked her head in. The walls were a dingy green and covered haphazardly with posters of bands that Evelyn didn't recognize, and there was a guitar propped against the wall, but Vic didn't play the guitar.

At least she didn't think he did.

Then she noticed the teenage boy hunched over on the side of the bed. A small plume of white smoke escaped his mouth as he glanced her way.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Vic threw his head back and sighed. "What do you want, Evelyn?"

Evelyn saw the glass pipe in his hand and scoffed. "Of course you're a stoner now. Why am I not surprised?"

Vic could hear the disappointment in her voice. On any other day, that might've shattered him, but today he simply didn't care.

He took another hit.

"Does your mom know you smoke?"

"Obviously not." Vic sounded smug. "What, you gonna tell her?"

"Maybe," she threatened, but instead she walked in and closed the door.

Vic stayed on the bed, watching her tiptoe around his room like she was afraid to touch anything. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest. That made him snicker. He didn't blame her for being uncomfortable. Hell, I would be, too. He hadn't been in her room since he was twelve, but now he found himself wondering what it looked like, if she still had that floral bedspread and all those stuffed animals she couldn't sleep without.

Probably not. Vic had thrown out his toys, too.

He relit his pipe. "Sorry about the mess. If I'd known you were coming over, I would've tidied up."

"It's fine. I won't stay long." Evelyn shooed away the smoke when it crept her way. She didn't want the smell to stick to her clothes.

"You wanna sit?" Vic asked, motioning toward the spot next to him on the bed. Evelyn scrunched up her face like he'd said something crazy. Was that such a weird offer? It wasn't a problem when they were kids, but maybe it wasn't appropriate now. Vic scratched his head. "What are you doing here, Evelyn?"

She turned away from the poster she had been staring at. "You know why I'm here. I wanna know what you guys did to my brother. He came home looking like someone beat the shit out of him." And he got a ride, too. That part bothered her the most.

Vic snuck in a few more puffs before setting his pipe aside. "I'd rather not talk about that." Not now. Not when he was finally starting to forget.

Evelyn took a step toward him. "Is that why you're smoking, Vic? Feeling stressed? Maybe a little guilty?"

Her voice was getting louder, too loud for Vic to handle in his current state. He rubbed his forehead and said, "Look, I don't wanna talk about it right now, Evelyn." Today was particularly exhausting. He just wanted a couple of hours to himself before he had to do it all over again tomorrow.

But Evelyn was never one to let things go. "Vic, please tell me you guys didn't put him in that trunk."

His eyes widened, and his mouth went dry. "The trunk?"

(You're gonna go for a little ride, buddy.)

(No! No, please!)

(Unlock the trunk, Belch.)

"Yes, the trunk, Victor!" Evelyn shouted. She was right in front of his face. "Did you guys put my brother in the trunk of your car?"

(No way, man. I'm not driving around with a kid in my trunk. Are you fucking crazy?)

"Did you?"

(I SAID, OPEN THE FUCKIN' TRUNK!)

"Answer me, Vic!"

"NO!" Vic yelled, pushing himself to his feet. Evelyn staggered back. "I didn't do anything, okay?"

Vic had tried to leave. He had walked away and left them all behind, but they caught up to him anyway. They pulled up along the side of the road, and Henry made him get back in the car. And then he had to sit there and listen to Richie Tozier screaming and pounding from inside the trunk. It went on forever, but...

"I didn't do anything."

"Exactly." Evelyn gave him a light shove. "You didn't do anything, Vic!"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Victor?" his mom called from outside. "Is everything okay in there? I heard raised voices."

Vic ran his hand through his hair. "Everything's fine, Mom." He tried to sound calm. "Sorry about the noise. We'll keep it down."

"You two better not be fighting. Dinner's almost ready. I made roast chicken!"

Vic rolled his eyes. "Okay, Mom, I'll be down in a little bit."

"Okay, okay. Evelyn, are you sure you don't want to stay? It's a lot of food for two people."

Evelyn's voice broke when she tried to answer. "No, thank you, Mrs. Criss. I gotta be heading home soon."

"Well, all right..."

They waited for her to leave. Vic sat back down on the bed and prepared another bowl.

"I should call the cops," Evelyn whispered, glaring at him. "You guys went way too far this time."

"So go to the cops." Vic didn't care anymore. "Go ahead and tell them everything. But you know what'll happen if you do. Do you really wanna get him into more trouble?"

Vic already knew the answer. The look on her face said it all. He gave his lighter a flick.

Evelyn shook her head. "You know, I'm really disappointed in you, Vic. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know you anymore."

Vic shrugged. "That makes two of us."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means."

"Whatever."

Evelyn was halfway out the door when Vic spoke again.

"So, do your friends know?" Vic took a big hit from his pipe while Evelyn stood in the doorway, silent. Vic looked her way and blew out all the smoke. "I'm thinking no, huh? Good call. Don't think they'd be too happy to hear you're fucking around with Henry Bowers."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed. "You don't even know what you're talking about."

Maybe not, but Vic knew what he saw. He couldn't get the image out of his head.

"Hey, I'm not judging you. Do what you want, kid, but at least be honest about it, you know? Quit acting so innocent. It's getting kind of pathetic."

Pathetic?

"Fuck you," Evelyn spat, backing away. "I can't believe I actually thought we could be friends again."

"We were never really friends to begin with. Jimmy's the one who wanted you around, not me."

Vic knew that would hurt her, but still, he wasn't prepared for the shitty feeling that came after she slammed the door.

Mrs. Criss heard Evelyn coming down the stairs. "Evelyn, is that you?"

Evelyn wiped her runny nose on her sleeve. "Yeah, I'm leaving, Mrs. Criss. It was real nice seeing you."

"It was nice seeing you, too! Hold on, let me give you a proper goodbye."

"No, I really have to go." She didn't want the woman to see her all puffy-eyed and splotchy. "I'll tell my mom you said hi, okay? Maybe you two can get together soon. Have lunch or something."

"Oh, that'd be nice! You should all come over for dinner sometime. We have a lot of catching up to do."

"Sounds good." Evelyn shoved her feet into her shoes and reached for the doorknob, but just as she was about to turn it, a terrible yet tempting thought entered her mind. She was too angry to ignore it.

She released the doorknob and walked towards the kitchen. "Hey, Mrs. Criss?"

The woman was busy mashing potatoes by hand while her chicken rested on a cutting board. She stopped when Evelyn came in and smiled. "Did you forget something, sweetie?"

"Yeah, actually." Evelyn sucked in a breath. "Your, uhh, your son is upstairs smoking pot."

Mrs. Criss's smile seemed to have gotten stuck from the shock. It was tight and stretched to the point where it looked uncomfortable. Then, suddenly, her right eye started to twitch.

Evelyn nodded. "Yeah. Thought you'd wanna know."

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#it fanfiction #henry bowers #henry bowers fanfiction #patrick hockstetter #patrick hockstetter fanfiction #bowers gang #belch huggins #richie tozier #the losers club #it chapter one #it chapter two #paper men #victor criss

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