#YOU GUYS CAN STOP MANIFESTING SNAKES IN MY HOUSE NOW

[petit-etoile]

i  need  you  when  i'm  falling  apart

pairing  .  ⊱   astarion x tav wordcount  .  ⊱   3,489 part one  .  ⊱   here . content warnings  .  ⊱  mentions of canon compliant temporary character death,  spoilers for act iii endgame other tags  .  ⊱   canon compliant,  character study,  introspection,  p.orn with plot,  pwp,  vignette,  re-establishing relationship,  blood drinking,  m.issionary position,  tav is gender neutral archiveofourown  .  ⊱   here .  

taglist  .  ⊱  @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia,  @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene, @lavenderslemonade, @candyladycry, @chonkercatto, @foxxyhun, @nyxmainex, @angelmawss2, @godoffuckedupcats, @raviolixxx be added  .  ⊱   here .

summary  .  ⊱   You have learned to be good. It's time Astarion learns to be forgiven.

During the heart of spring, Astarion spends more time trying to avoid you than he does trying to catch up with you. You’re not even sure why he agreed to travel alongside you  —  but you do not ask. You press your lips together and push on anyway.

His eyes are cold, and red.

The first night when you set up camp in an abandoned temple, Astarion moves his tent to the other side of the sanctuary as if he cannot bear to be around you. Like you smell. You’ve never cared much for the thoughts or opinions of others, but an inkling of self-doubt creeps back into the depths of your mind. What is the cost of being good if no one treats you kindly?

Every interaction you have with him is like pulling teeth. You want to fight for the tieflings, and Astarion wants to leave them behind. You want to help Wyll find his father, and Astarion snorts. Any good deed you suggest, he finds the need to punish.

When the cambion Raphael reaches and touches your cheek with a promise of opulence and salubrity, you're reminded of a night two hundred years ago. You stumble out of the House of Hope as fast as you can.

You don’t stop walking until daybreak. One night, you explode on Astarion. Your feelings bubble up like bile in your throat.

‘I tried to look for you!’ you snap at him. ‘You can sit here, and you can be bitter, but if I had known, I would have looked for you! But I didn’t know  —  I didn’t know and it isn’t a crime!’

Astarion’s look of surprise is one thing. He furrows his eyebrows as if properly scandalized, and his frustrated scowl turns to ash when you throw his old cravat at him. You had kept it tied around your neck for two hundred years. You wouldn’t keep it a day longer.

It’s a horrifying mistake to go wandering off in the Underdark by yourself with nothing but a hunting knife at your side, but you never really gave much thought to how you would cope with the gravity of the situation. The fact that you knew Cazador only made matters worse. You stumble past the ruins of the Selûnite Outpost in hopes of running away from your past.

You don’t run into your past in the dark, but you do run into a Spectator.

You’re immediately thrown into darkness and narrowly avoid being petrified, but you have no idea what you’re going to do about this situation besides hide beyond some poor stoned soul. You might should have considered thinking it through. You might should have thought anything through but you didn’t, and that’s the only crime you’ve committed in quite some time. It isn’t a crime is something you’ve begun to repeat to yourself often.

You manage to defend yourself for quite a while in the darkness, but by the end, you’re nursing a nasty wound and bite from the Spectator that will take some time to heal. You’re tucked under some petrified Drow bastard when you hear Karlac’s battle cry and see Gale’s ice spell come from the cliffs. The one that catches you off-guard, the one that will always catch you off-guard, is Astarion flipping through the air with nothing but an elven bow like a prince from your dreams.

Defeating the Spectator is easier with allies, and even the Drow protecting it goes down without much of a fight. You nurse your wounds as best you can, sitting against the cliffs with a bleeding thigh, and try not to frown when Astarion approaches.

‘Give me that,’ he says quietly, snatching one of Halsin’s potions from your fingers. ‘Even after all these years, it seems like you still need protecting.’

You frown and pick at your torn breeches. ‘I know how much you hate that, your honor.’

Astarion looks at you for the first time in several tendays, eyes rimmed with red. ‘I never hated it,’ he says. He dresses your wound like it pains him to see it. ‘I don’t hate it even now.’ Astarion crashes into you full force the night you arrive at the Last Light Inn after you’ve talked to Jaheira but before you’ve talked to anyone else. You’re in your room, and the next thing you know, you’re not alone.

Two hundred years of loneliness are erased at that moment.

His teeth clack painfully against yours as he shoves you into the wall, too uncaring or too pent up to care about the force. He cradles the back of your head to keep you from cracking it on the wall, but other than that, Astarion doesn’t care about hiding the full force of his strength. He kisses you until your mouth is swollen and then he’s tearing your night shirt open with both hands like he can’t get enough.

‘Astarion  —  ’ you try to say, startled.

But you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him too. You let Astarion push you around, until you’re both stripped of your clothes and he’s lying flat on his back on the hard wooden floor with you pulled into his lap, his cock pushed deep inside you, and his hands unable to stop wandering the planes of your body. Astarion all but sobs into your mouth as he fucks you. He holds your cheeks in his hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

When you’re both finished, no one moves from the wood floor despite there being a bed. You lie on your side next to him, memorizing the slope of his nose while you still shiver with little twinges of pleasure still racing up your spine and between your legs. Astarion’s eyes are closed. He’s pretending to sleep, or pretending to be dead so you don’t have to talk about what’s happened, but you’re curious anyway.

You reach across the distance and touch his chest. You know there’s no heartbeat beneath his ribs, but you like to pretend. You close your eyes and dream it has been nothing but two hundred years of happiness and bliss in Astarion’s home.

‘When I first saw you,’ you say quietly, ‘I thought you were a ghost come back to haunt me.’

‘Are you often haunted by ghosts?’ Astarion asks. He still doesn’t look.

‘I’ve been properly reformed while you were away,’ you tell him. You stare at his neck. ‘There was only one ghost I was running from.’

He smiles. ‘And now you’ve found him. What do you think about this haunting?’

‘I am happily haunted,’ you say honestly. He opens his eyes then and turns toward you, lips pressed into a firm line. ‘But you are not happily haunting.’

Astarion sits up then and you follow him, legs sticky and wet. You reach for his hands and pull them into your lap. You watch as he struggles to accept a kind touch. In a way, you understand that. You remember how kindly he treated you when you didn’t deserve it. You hold his hands even when he tries to run away.

‘I was ashamed for you to see me like this,’ Astarion explains. He looks away, hesitant. ‘My condition isn’t one that I’m proud of. It isn’t fair to say I was tricked, but  —  ’

‘Wanting to live doesn’t make you a bad person,’ you say.

‘Perhaps not,’ he says. ‘But I became what I often chastised you for. I am greedy. I am prone to lying and bouts of theatrics. I’ve killed. It was embarrassing to fall so low.’

‘And now you rescue orphans,’ you say, shrugging. ‘You helped the gnomes. You helped the tieflings. You’re going to help the gnomes and tieflings again. There’s still good in you, your honor, beneath all that vampiric avarice you despair over.’

Astarion laughs and turns away from you. He’s looking for his clothes, and your heart squeezes so tightly in your chest that you move before you can stop yourself. You drape yourself over Astarion’s back and pull his arms away from his smallclothes. You can tell by the musculature of his arms that you only succeed because he lets you.

‘Please don’t leave me alone again,’ you whisper against his shoulder. Your wet eyelashes tickle the nape of his neck. ‘I waited for you that night and… I don’t want to be alone anymore.’

Astarion stays that night.

He stays every night after that too. For what it’s worth, your third visit to Baldur’s Gate is hardly better than the first two.

Between fighting cultists, saving children, and trying to convince most of your party that they’re not going to become mindflayers, you’re beginning to run a little thin. You feel like you’re going to shrivel up and die. You feel like the world is spinning and falling apart. You’ve killed Gortash and you’ve killed Orin and you killed Ketheric ages ago, but now you’re trying to keep the Emperor from betraying you and sacrificing Orpheus, and Cazador’s invitation is sitting pretty in your hands, and  —  

Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? Cazador’s invitation is in your hands, and you don’t have the heart to show Astarion. You’re afraid of showing Astarion. You know that as soon as you show him the invitation, he’ll lose his mind. You’ve only just recovered him and you’re already worried about losing him again.

You bury the invitation in the garden behind the inn like you’re a dog with a bone. You shovel the dirt with your hands until they’re cracked and raw and bleeding and the invitation is buried six feet in the ground. It should scare you that Cazador knows who you are, but it doesn’t. You aren’t stupid enough to run headfirst into his trap. And Astarion isn’t stupid either, but he’s scared, and being scared makes you do stupid things. Astarion almost does a very stupid thing like you predicted he would.

The Rite of Ascension was right there in his hands, and he had almost consumed it. You aren’t sure what changed his mind at the last minute but you’re thankful. Astarion crawls into your arms that night and sobs for hours. ‘What are we going to do about tomorrow?’ Astarion asks you softly.

He’s been tracing patterns into your spine all evening. If he moves his hands now, you’d still feel his fingertips against your skin. You’re hiding your face in your arms so you don’t have to think about it. You can’t stop thinking about it.

‘We’re going to fight the Absolute,’ you say.

‘Like it’s that simple?’

‘I am going to look another god in the face,’ you say, ‘and I am going to tell it to fuck off back to Avernus.’

‘Do Netherbrains come from Avernus?’

You don’t know. You’re too worried to think too hard about the simplest details. So far, you’re every plan has been to go in, stab whoever is the loudest, and then leave before things get worse. It’s hard to keep your head above the waves as they keep crashing down on you.

You don’t want to talk about tomorrow. If things don’t go well, you’re all going to die anyway and all that planning will have been for nothing. You turn on your side and appraise Astarion’s expression. He’s looking at you with muted disbelief. You choose to ignore it.

‘What are we going to do after tomorrow?’ you ask.

Astarion opens his mouth to chastise you for changing the subject, but he closes it almost immediately. He doesn’t want to talk about it either. It’s a scary thing to walk into the end of the world with a sword and a dagger. At least Dame Aylin will be there. You hope she can just stomp the Netherbrain to death and then it’ll all be over.

‘I could always go back to being a magistrate,’ Astarion says conversationally.

He picks at a thread coming loose on his blanket.

‘If you go back to that, I’ll go back to being a criminal,’ you muse. ‘We can have nasty sex on your desk again. You always did look damn good in a cassock.’

Astarion laughs. He laughs like the sunlight that peeks through the window on a sunny morning. He laughs like the moonlight that splays on the cobblestone of Baldur’s Gate long after everyone else has already gone to bed. It’s hideous  —  it’s melodic and intoxicating, and you reach across the distance and touch his cheek without thinking.

You slide your finger across to his nose. You press your finger against the wrinkle between his brow, and Astarion starts laughing again so you do too. You kiss him while he laughs, and then he holds you and you both laugh together. He will never be a judge again. Your connections with the Zhentarim will die out.

Astarion brushes his fingers against your hip bone. He rolls out of bed like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do, and you miss him. Already without him, the bed is much colder. You dramatically crawl across to his side and press your nose into his pillowcase to smell the faint traces of whiskey that are left.

When he returns, he presents you with his old cravat which has been neatly restored almost to perfection. He had sewn it back together himself. You had worn it for two hundred years as a good luck charm against evil, and the wear and tear had nearly torn it to shreds. You’d never had the heart to try to tailor it yourself. Sewing wasn’t your strong suit, and you had never cried over Astarion’s death until the day you thought you had lost it.

Astarion neatly ties the cravat around your wrist like a promise. He kisses your skin and inhales as though in a dream, nose brushing against the fabric, like the touch of a ghost against your veins. Your throat tightens.

‘Wherever this takes us,’ Astarion says, eyes burning. ‘I want to be there with you in the end.’

You tuck inside your bed with Astarion that night and watch the moon disappear through the window. It’s barely daylight when you’re finally too exhausted to stay awake, and Astarion almost lets you both miss the final showdown. Lae’zel, however, doesn’t. ‘I don’t mind what we do,’ Astarion is saying, ‘once we get to the  —  ’

You watch with muted horror as Astarion’s skin begins to glimmer in the sunlight. The fire begins cracking under his skin, brimming against his cheekbones and nose and throat and hair much like Karlach when she overheats. You watch as the tips of his ears ignite, and then he’s searching for you frantically between all of your friends.

‘I have to go,’ he chokes out. ‘I have to  —  ’

There is a world where you let Astarion run alone, where you both get separated on the docks and never find one another again. He runs from the sun as he bursts with radiant energy and as stars pour from his skin, you forget what Wyll is saying, and you run after him.

Astarion finds sanctuary in melting shade beneath a set of boxes. He’s curled up into himself when you arrive, and you drop next to him, pulling your cloak over your heads. He looks up at you, bewildered.

But you have lived through losing Astarion once, and it has haunted you for two hundred years. You had known loneliness and fear and anger, and the thought of surviving it for even a day more makes your stomach roll. You press your forehead to Astarion’s and stand as tall as you can so the sun can’t touch him ever again.

‘Won’t your arms get tired?’ Astarion asks you faintly.

He watches you with a sense of wonder. His skin slowly returns to normal, no more flickering stardust and ash, and you grin. He slowly smiles too, nervous but you shake your head and keep your cloaked raised.

‘Never,’ you say. ‘Not when it’s you.’

‘My reform worked, then?’ he says.

‘I’ve learned about your stuck-up decorum,’ you say. ‘It’s true. I can confirm.’

‘A sense of propriety?’ Astarion asks, and if his voice goes any softer, you’ll melt too.

‘Let me carry the weight of your sins,’ you tell him sincerely, laughing a little. ‘And if we need to find another desk then we will. But I’ll be your knight in shining armor, your honor, and carry a parasol above your head as a proper chamberlain would.’

Astarion snorts. ‘That isn’t quite the job of a chamberlain.’

You hold the cloak up for two hours at least while Astarion recovers from the damage. You can’t help but notice that he looks happy and content even in the shadows. It must be because you’re there, although you’re hesitant to take credit for all his happiness. When you let down the cloak, the sun has set. When Astarion rises, he kisses your cheek sweetly. ‘The silence stretches on  —  I’m all alone,’ you muse, ‘Please, can I hold your hands, just for a while?’

Bernard’s arms wrap around you gently, and you wrap your arms around his steel ribs. You’ve taken up residence in the old Arcane Tower in the Underdark. You appreciate the permanent nighttime, and if you admitted you only did it because Astarion wanted to be close to his family, it wouldn’t be entirely true. With a bit of help from Gale, you’ve managed to turn the tower into a comfortable fortress. Sometimes Omeluum comes to visit you. Occasionally, there’s word from Shadowheart from the Selûnite Outpost. She’s hoping to restore it. She wants you to come visit.

‘Are you still playing with that dusty old thing, my love?’ Astarion hums from the doorway.

‘You be kind to Bernard,’ you warn him. ‘He’s my friend.’

‘Of course, of course,’ Astarion says, holding his hands up. ‘I’ll be kind to the scrap metal.’

You roll your eyes and step away, touching Bernard’s chest briefly. Astarion has just arrived back from a trip. There are spawn all over the Underdark now, and they treat Astarion as though he’s some sort of prince. They heed your word too, but none so much as his. Their eldest brother, their favorite. They tolerate  you if it means getting to see Astarion.

You’re a jack-of-all-trades and master-of-none now. You leave your handiwork for the day or night or whatever it is to go down to your bedroom and recline in bed. Astarion lights each candle one by one until the room is illuminated. You smile and watch as he works.

‘Having responsibility suits you well,’ you say, resting your cheek on your palm. ‘Although it’s funny how our positions have changed somewhat.’

‘I’m the contracted killer,’ Astarion says with a laugh. ‘Are you a magistrate now?’

‘I have at least four hundred years of life left,’ you snort. ‘I, Magistrate Judge Stick-Up-My-Ass, sentence thee to fifty years of community service!’

Astarion rolls his eyes at you dramatically and throws himself into bed, kicking off his boots as he does so. He smells of fresh oils and mist. You bury your nose in his hair. You practically burrow yourself into him, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a mindflayer. You squeeze him tightly in your arms.

‘We have a sprawling manse and all you can think of to do all day is mock me for a position I have not occupied in two hundred years?’ Astarion pouts.

You kiss his hair. ‘What else should I do?’

‘Well,’ Astarion says, tone turning conspiratorial. ‘There are a certain amount of fuckable places here. Several desks, I’ve counted them all, and couches.’

You contemplate it, but after several tendays on the road and a wiggling visitor in your head, you think the bed is the best place. You pull Astarion up to kiss him, arms wrapping around his neck so he can’t leave you. You never want him to go again. You bump your nose against his and hide a smile in his coiffed hair when he melts against your chest.

You sigh prettily when Astarion takes you in your velvet sheets that you float as though in a dream. Your troubles are long over, and that person you thought you lost  —  your immortal soul  —  has returned to you as beautiful as the day you lost him. When you shudder, Astarion brushes hair out of your eyes adoringly and tastes your pulse at your jaw. You dig your fingers into the small of his back.

It’s like you’ve found a family. A very bitey, very competitive family. Still, you wouldn’t change any of it for the world. You hold Astarion’s face in your hands and see the man you knew and the man he’s become. Slowly, you pull his mouth towards your neck and feel your heartbeat jump in your chest.

He bites you for the first time that night.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion smut #bg3 smut #from ，carcosa . #my fic #YOU GUYS CAN STOP MANIFESTING SNAKES IN MY HOUSE NOW #I LAID DOWN TO SLEEP & ALL I COULD DREAM ABOUT WAS CRAVATS #honestly patch 5 inspired a lot too #learning about astarion becoming A Dad to a bunch of vampire spawn really like........................... fired up the brain

[galvanizedfriend]

Fic: Speed Dating

KC Bingo 2020 by @klaroline-events

The prompt is: Losing a Bet

This is fluff inspired by an episode of House. I have no idea how successful this first endeavor into unknown territory was, but @itsnotacrimetoloveyou assured me it’s good and also confirmed that it is, indeed, fluff! Also, thank you for beta’ing this and for laughing at all the jokes! lol

I hope you guys enjoy it! :) Reblogs and comments are very much welcome!

______________________

There is something fundamentally wrong, Caroline thinks, in pitying the white, rich, genetically blessed art gallery owner she lives with. It feels like a waste of empathy. Klaus has the whole world at his feet. Wherever he goes, doors open, red carpets roll out, champagne bottles pop left and right. Which makes his brooding and scowling and antisocial behavior all the more inexplicable.

He isn't always like that, truth be told. When Caroline first moved in, Klaus was out and about all the time. Opening nights, exhibitions, soirées, premieres, parties - you name it. There were weeks when Caroline would barely see him. If he wasn’t at some event, then he was at the gallery, if not at the gallery, then locked up in his studio. As far as she knew, he was pretty much living the dream.

"He's never there," Rebekah said when she pitched the idea of rooming with her brother to Caroline. She used to share an apartment with Elena, but her friend had decided to take the next step with her dumbass of a boyfriend and since it was her name on the lease, Caroline was the one having to find a new place. Her money was short and so were her options. "Nik has this huge apartment all to himself and no one to really watch over it. All the plants I give him die within a week. He could use a roommate, honestly, and you'd be perfect."

"Is he looking for a roommate, though?"

"Not yet. He will be, when I tell him to."

"Rebekah -"

"Just come and see the place, ok? It's worth it."

It made no sense that a guy with his lifestyle and bank account would want to share an apartment with a complete stranger, and Caroline had the very strong feeling the idea never even so much as crossed his mind. Judging by the spirited spat she overheard between the two siblings while she waited outside, it was exactly the case. On her request, Rebekah went in first to talk to him; Caroline would only follow if he agreed to it. She didn't want to see the apartment of someone who wasn't looking for a roommate. She was about to sneak out through the stairs and pretend she'd never been there when Rebekah wrapped a hand around her arm and pulled her into the apartment. Before she could even manifest her exasperation, her snake of a friend walked out and locked the door behind her, leaving the two of them there to stare at one another in complete astonishment.

"I think we've been set up," she said, affecting an awkward smile.

"Rebekah has never learned the meaning boundaries, I'm afraid," he said, not nearly as fiery as he'd sounded a moment before while arguing with his sister.

"Look, this was not my idea, ok? I was just looking for a place, and Rebekah said — You know what, doesn't matter. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

Klaus looked at her — really looked at her — assessing her with such sharpness it stole the wind off her chest. Mikaelsons... they're an intense bunch.

"Since you're here," he said after a moment. "Can I offer you a drink for your trouble?"

He opened a bottle of wine that cost more than Caroline's previous rent and gestured for her to make herself comfortable on the giant leather couch in his living room. He wanted to know what she did for a living, how she knew his sister, why she was on the market for an apartment, what kind of place she had in mind, what her routine was like. It was all obvious questions you'd expect from a prospective roommate, but it never felt as though she was being interviewed. Conversation simply flowed, such an easy back-and-forth she didn't realize what was happening until it was hours later and Rebekah was back with a few shopping bags in her hands and a triumphant smile on her face.

"So, when do you move in?" she asked.

"Whenever she sees fit," Klaus replied, albeit glaring at his sister.

"Wait– what?" Caroline blinked, eyes cutting from one sibling to the other. "What do you mean?"

"A spoiled brat though my sister may be, she does have a point. This apartment could use another soul. If you feel so inclined, you can bring your things whenever it is convenient. The guest bedroom is furnished, but I can put it all in storage if you'd rather have your own set. There's also plenty of room for your personal things in the common areas, you can make it more to your liking. All I ask is that you don't replace the art on the walls. I rather fancy them."

Caroline's mouth moved wordlessly for a long time. "You... I thought you didn't want a roommate."

He shrugged nonchalantly, pouring himself another glass of wine. "I'm known to be rather volatile."

"But I can't — I mean, we didn't even discuss rent and expenses. I'm a med student, I can't afford this place."

"Nonsense. It's mine." Caroline drew the breath in for a righteous protest, and he added, "We can share the bills, if you insist."

And, well. It's not how Caroline likes to do business, way too sudden, with none of the meticulous in-depth analysis she usually applies to absolutely everything, from buying dish sets to choosing a new hairstyle. Moving in with someone she didn’t know at all seemed like way too big a deal for her to simply skip those vital steps. She didn't even compile her pros and cons list. But…

The neighborhood was fantastic, the type where she'd never afford to live in as a student, it was so conveniently close to school, and Elena was pestering the hell out of her to move out so Damon could move in. She'd been to four apartments already: two were incredibly dirty — which told her everything she needed to know about the people living there; another had a single bathroom shared between four people, and the last had a creepy guy across the hall. The floor to ceiling windows alone in Klaus' living room would've sold her the place, and paying next to nothing? It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. The conversation with him had been rather nice, if she was honest, and he was Rebekah's brother, so if anything went crazy, she knew exactly who to call.

For the first so many months, the Klaus-is-never-home story was very true. After a while he started inviting her to tag along to some of his events, which she did in a few occasions, especially after he learned she could not say no to puppy eyes. "These people will bore me to death, love, please, save me." Klaus can be such a dramatic baby. The parties were great and the vernissages fancy as hell, but she didn't complain. Going out with him was fun. They got along well, the booze was always A level and Klaus enjoyed taking his time to explain stuff to her. Living with him, she got to learn more about artistic movements than in all her life before. It's more interesting than she ever gave it credit. Or Klaus made it seem so, anyway. The accent kind of goes a long way.

What Caroline came to learn about him after a few months, however, was that not everything was rainbows and unicorns for Klaus as it seemed at first glance. Nothing threw him off quite like his family. He only ever spoke about Rebekah, the only sibling who lived closed by and stopped for visits, even more so than usual after Caroline moved in. She did overhear him on the phone with Elijah a few times, too. The other three, though, Freya, Finn and Kol, Caroline only knew about through Rebekah.

"Nik doesn't get along with our siblings," Rebekah told her when she asked why he never spoke of the rest of the family. "I don't blame him. I don't know what mother nature was thinking when it gathered us all under the same genetic code, we're far too screwed up to be all in the same Thanksgiving dinner."

That was an understatement, in Caroline's opinion. Whenever Klaus went back to England to visit his parents and the rest of his siblings —- something he avoided like the plague but was apparently forced to do — he came back sullen and with a temper from hell. His sour moods could last for weeks. He'd stay locked up in his bedroom or at the studio for days on end, making Caroline slightly guilty for thinking she was the thing keeping him from circulating around his own place.

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped at her once when she suggested she could move out if he'd changed his mind. "If you move out, I will hunt you down and drag you back here."

It was perhaps slightly too aggressive an answer to be sweet, but Caroline gathers that was Klaus' way of saying he didn't want her to go.

She stayed and learned how to navigate the storms caused by his occasional family reunions. Let him do his thing, don't ask about his parents, offer him food from time to time. They make do. But it still bothers her to no end. Like right now.

It's been a month since he came back from London, more upset than necessarily angry, and he has barely set foot out of the apartment. He stays in his sweatpants and ink-stained Marc Jacobs shirts all day, wavering between having too much coffee and too much whiskey. He hasn't even been painting, which points to an all-time low.

When she walks out of her room all dressed up, putting on her earrings, he's sitting in front of the television, flipping through channels nonstop. His eyes are so unfocused she doubts he even knows what he's doing, his finger just pressing the button mindlessly.

Caroline checks her wristwatch and sighs. Bonnie is gonna be furious if she's late, but Klaus sitting on his ass like that is a waste of a perfectly fine eligible bachelor.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asks.

"Watching a movie," he says flatly after a moment, the information that he'd been spoken to taking a second to register in his brain.

"You mean porn."

He turns his face to her, eyebrows lazily arched. "If you want specifics. I'd ask you to join me, but people are already talking."

She gives him a look and then bends forward, fixing the straps of her high-heeled sandals. "Don't you get tired?"

"Who gets tired of porn?"

"Of watching porn?" He just shrugs. "Men," she puffs out with an eye roll. "Come out with me tonight. I'm going speed dating."

"That's so very boomer of you. It reeks of despair."

"It's old school, so what?" she counters, checking herself out on the antique floor length mirror. She turns to one side, then the other, tosses her hair back. "Is this cleavage too slutty? I don't want to look too slutty."

"What are you aiming for? Moderately promiscuous?"

She turns to him. "I want to say hot but with class, not I have nicknames for my boobs."

He snorts. "You look stunning, sweetheart," he says, his eyes lingering perhaps a bit too long on her décolletage.

"Thanks," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest, suddenly self-conscious. "Back to the subject."

He sighs, turning back to the television. "Haven't they invented an app for that?"

"I'm tired of apps. It's cold, photos are almost never consistent with the truth and when you ask for a real-time one, all you get is dick pics."

"I hate to disappoint, but you're fooling yourself if you think men won't lie to your face, too."

"You can't blame me for wanting to stay hopeful that men aren't all as cynical as you. I'd have to give up sex forever if I thought that."

Klaus' lips quirk into a lopsided grin. "Well, I wish you good luck on your endeavor."

"I think you need to meet somebody, too," she insists. "You're turning into a couch potato, Klaus."

"I refute that."

"When was the last time you had a date?"

"I don't do dates."

Caroline rolls her eyes again. She has never seen him with the same girl twice, and very few have actually made it to his apartment. Mostly, he's the one who spends the night, not the other way around. He laughed at her face when she tried to tell him he didn't have to worry about bringing friends over on her account. "That's sweet, love, but I don't bring people over unless I have no other option."

"Why not?"

"Because when they know where I live it's harder to get rid of them. Besides, it's such a bore when they decide not to leave in the morning. Women can be rather spiteful."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are so full of crap. Typical. Sweet-talk women into sleeping with you and then call them crazy when they expect a minimum of respect in return."

"I respect them fine; I just don't want to have breakfast."

"Because that is such a commitment."

"It's far more than I'm willing to commit, yes."

"We have breakfast all the time. What, am I special?"

He simply smiled, the annoying dimples he uses to lure women into bed cutting into his cheeks.

"Fine," she says, stomping her foot. "Your last one-night stand?"

"Should I be flattered you're keeping such close tabs on my life?"

"See? You're becoming this insufferable creature that I can barely tolerate that answers everything with sarcasm. Soon enough, I'm gonna have to move out and I don't want to because I like this apartment."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Come out with me. This way you get to meet twenty somebodies at once."

"Is that why you're going?"

"Last two dates I had were exclusive two hours of complete disaster I will never get back. At least this way I speed up the process of elimination."

"Over five-minute conversations," he derides.

"Five minutes is more than enough time. If they can't impress me or at the very least make me intrigued, then they're definitely not worth a second date."

"You make it sound oh-so-alluring. Like a meat market."

"Klaus," she says, slowly, planting herself between him and the random Discovery Channel show on the TV. "It's dozens of women literally just waiting to be hit on. Your odds at a happy ending are much better than if stay home and watch porn."

He regards for a beat and then sighs in defeat. "How can I say no when you make me out to be a wanker if I refute your argument?"

 x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 "You brought a date?!" Bonnie cries out with indignation when Caroline arrives at the bar with Klaus on tow.

She considered giving her friend a heads up that he'd be tagging along, but she knows what Bonnie would say. She has been saying it for a while, any opportunity she gets. Just make a move already, Caroline! Fuck the guy's brains out and get over it or stop talking about Klaus all the goddamn time.

The fact she's brought him out to meet other people should probably tell Bonnie that she does not want to bang her roommate. Not that she wouldn't, because Klaus is obviously, you know... Alluring. Annoying, sure, prone to mood swings, but also witty and smart and refined and incredibly attentive when it comes to her, not to mention the whole exterior package thing. But they live together, she's friends with his sister, and it would be a totally stupid idea to ruin it with casual sex. Caroline sweeps the whole tension under the rug and keeps Klaus firmly on the realm of healthy, platonic friendship. But Bonnie would've found a way to claim otherwise if she'd said he was coming.

"He's not a date," she counters. "He's a dater."

Bonnie gives Klaus a pointed look. "Blink once if you were coerced into being here."

Klaus makes an effort of blinking, and Caroline gapes in protest. "I did not coerce you. Our couch has a permanent imprint of Klaus' ass. He needed to dive back into the pool. I'm just being helpful."

"I'm here for the drinks, mostly," he offers.

"Well, you just ruined these poor men's lives," Bonnie says, bobbing her head towards the line of guys standing around them, waiting for the thing to start.

She hadn't really noticed, but they're all staring at them. Not at her, or at Bonnie, but at Klaus, with looks that go from mildly concerned to openly hostile.

"Tough luck," she says with a light shrug. "Look on the bright side. They're gonna be forced to bring out their A game."

"Ahh," Bonnie says, smiling at last. "I see your plan now. That’s actually smart."

"What the bloody hell are you two babbling about?" Klaus asks.

Caroline cocks him a disbelieved eyebrow. "Seriously? You can't tell?"

"Look around, Klaus," Bonnie says. "All the girls are checking you out."

"Not uncommon," he replies matter-of-factly.

"And the guys are shooting daggers at you," Caroline adds.

He purses his lips. "Also not uncommon."

"Exactly. This is competition."

"It's not a beauty pageant, love."

"Life is a beauty pageant," she retorts solemnly.

"Let's put it this way," Bonnie cuts in. "Little girls who kiss frogs expect them to turn into you."

Klaus puffs out a laugh. "Why, thank you, Bonnie, for the rather flattering image. But I don't think I'm that good looking."

"Now you're just playing dumb, which is not sexy, by the way."

He turns to Caroline, cocking his eyebrows in doubt. "Yes, you are, Klaus." A sly smirk breaks onto his lips, and she realizes he'd just set her up into singing his praise. Before he can follow up with a snarky and probably inappropriate remark, she slaps his arm lightly. "Oh, shut up."

"I bet you'll walk out of here with everyone's phone numbers," Bonnie says.

"Except for ours, of course," Caroline adds.

"Why not yours?" he asks, somewhat offended.

"You already have my number."

"Not in this context."

"Yes, because I already know you and all the nasty little bits of your personality. These women, on the other hand, don't."

"So you're attributing every relationship I've ever had to my looks?"

"I thought you didn't do relationships."

"Not normally."

"Well, not the whole relationship," she muses. "Just the beginning."

"The rest are the dimples," Bonnie remarks with a serious nod.

Klaus shakes his head despondently. "And here I was thinking women aren't as vain as men."

Caroline turns to him, putting her hand out. "Wanna bet? You can't tell anyone you're a trust fund kid who runs an art gallery. You're unemployed. Don't pay attention to everything they say, pretend to be distracted. And lose the accent. One hundred bucks says you walk out of here with at least… Twenty names. And I'm being conservative."

Klaus narrows his eyes at her. "You brought me out here to get laid and now you want me to jeopardize my chances?"

"On the contraire. I'm saying you can make yourself out to be as interested as you really are, and still get laid."

He finally takes her hand on a firm shake. "You're on."

A gong rings and they all turn to see a woman with a bright smile beckoning them all to approach. "Ladies and gentlemen," she starts. "The fun is about to start. Ladies, please, take your seats. There's a table for each of you. When I strike this gong, each man should sit at the first table they've been assigned to. When I strike it again, date's over, move on to the next."

"Wish me good luck, then," Klaus tells her as they turn around to order a drink from the bar before moving to their respective spots.

"You won't need it, buddy."

 x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 "Hello, sweetheart," Klaus says pleasantly as he slides into the seat across from her.

Caroline lets out a weary exhale. "Hi, number..." she reads the tag on his chest. "26. What do you prefer, a weekend on the mountains or long walks on the beach?"

"Mountain, easy. Too much sand on the beach, it gets in all sorts of awkward places."

Caroline snorts into her martini. "That's actually the best answer I've had to this question so far. Or to any question, really." She raises her glass on a toast. "How's it going?"

He purses his lips. "I've had to answer that question unironically more than once, so I'd say not stellar."

"I'm sorry," she says around a chuckle.

"You don't look sorry."

"Because I'm not, really. It would be unfair for me to suffer alone. Seen anyone you like, at least?"

The smile on his face turns mysterious. "There's one so far."

"Just one?"

"It's hard to speed date when you're pretending to be slow, uninteresting and American, to be honest."

"You could just tell them the truth. That you were dragged here by a friend who took pity on you sitting around, watching porn all day. That would sure scare some of them away. Although some would probably ask what kind of porn."

"What about you?"

"I don't want to know what kind of porn you watch."

He rolls her eyes at her. "I mean, how's your night going?"

"Oh, you know," she shrugs with a lot less enthusiasm than she'd expected to have by this point in the evening. "A couple of contenders, I guess."

"Oh?"

"Still early."

"Forgive me for pointing it out, but you don't seem particularly excited."

She puffs out in frustration. "Every time I tell them I'm a Med student, they ask what kind of doctor I want to be, and when I say oncologist, they start listing every member of their family who's ever died of cancer. What am I supposed to say after a guy tells me his mother died of breast cancer? I'm sorry, would you like to talk about it?" Caroline glares when he erupts into laughter. "Not funny."

"I'm sorry, it's just that sounds like an awfully interesting conversation."

"Why is dating so hard? Am I too picky? Is it wanting a meet-cute too much? To wake up one day and ta-dam, the guy is there, right in front of me."

Something about Klaus' eyes soften just then. "If only it were that easy," he says, an almost wistful tone to his voice that gives Caroline pause.

Before she can dwell on it further, however, the gong sounds and it's time to move on.

"Here I go, then," he says in his American accent.

When her next prospect sits down, she's laughing at Klaus greeting the woman on the next table with a Hey, babe.

 x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 "Here's to making the 1% 100 dollars poorer," Caroline says, raising her shot in the air before knocking it back.

"Cheers, I suppose," Klaus says dully, sipping from his bourbon.

"Oh, come on!" She bumps her shoulder against his as they sit side by side by the bar. "Don't look so gloomy. That's literally a pile of women in front of you," she says, nodding her head towards the cards sitting on the counter. "How many again?"

"Twenty nine," he grumbles.

"Twenty nine out of 40! That's more phone numbers than most guys will get in a year. Be proud."

"Of my deep cobalt eyes or my sultry lips? Yes, I heard both tonight."

Now it's Caroline's turn to explode into laughter while he just shakes his head helplessly.

"You don't have to be ashamed of your genetics, Klaus," she says. "It's not your fault some women are awkward flirters."

"Tell that to my stepfather." His tone visibly changes as he mentions Mikael, the dark clouds coming back to hover above his head.

Before it can get any worse, Caroline prods on. "So. How many of them are you going to call?"

"None."

"None?!" she gapes. "That's at least a month of guaranteed sex. A month where you won't have to watch porn, you can actually perform porn."

"Alright, you're making me sound like a deranged pervert," he objects. "I do not watch that much porn. That was one time and it is not my fault you lack proper etiquette when walking into someone else's bedroom."

Caroline chuckles. She did walk in without knocking, but, in her defense, it was 3 o'clock. What kind of person watches porn in the middle of the afternoon? She was blushing furiously for weeks before she decided to start teasing him instead as a way to diffuse the guilt. Luckily, he hadn't actually been doing... Anything. Although she did notice the suspicious volume in his pants. It was... Interesting.

"It's nice to make fun of you, though," she says. "That was the closest to a blush I've ever seen on your face."

"Whatever makes you happy, love."

"Seriously, though. Why are you not calling any of them?"

"These women think I'm one step away from being a caveman. It says more about them than it says about me that they're willing to give me their phone numbers."

She scoffs. "Don't be such a snob. They came here to get laid, too. You can't tell me you didn't like any of them."

"Well, there was one. But she didn't slip me her phone number."

Caroline' eyebrows crinkle together. "Really? That's kinda hard to believe."

"I guess your theory was flawed, after all."

"But it has been proved nonetheless. Which reminds me..." She lifts a hand, asking for another round. "I'm gonna drink all your money."

"My whole life has been a lie," Klaus says contemplatively. "I thought I had an enthralling personality, an interesting aura, that my wittiness made me charming, and now I find out I'm nothing but a pretty face."

"To be honest, you're also an endless pit of money." Klaus gives her a side eye, knocking back his drink. Caroline scrunches up her face in mock-pity. "Oh, boo-hoo. It's so hard to be handsome. Why are you so upset about that?"

"It's different when that is all you are. I've been deluding myself."

"Who said that's all you are?" Klaus turns to her with a pointed look. "No, that's not what I said. I said women would want to date you after five minutes because you're pretty, not that pretty is all you are." When he sighs, asking for another drink, still obviously unconvinced, she continues. "Look. My first real boyfriend was a total douchebag. He came across as funny and charming and thoughtful, but it was an act. He saw something he wanted and he knew he had to act a certain way to get it, because even at 17, I liked to think I had standards, even though I clearly didn't."

"Are you saying I'm also manipulative?"

"I'm saying, figuring out who people really are takes time. It takes twice as long if they're trying to impress you. You can take from this that all your relationships have been superficial and physical only, or you can believe that people came for the appeal and stayed for the content."

"Except no one has stayed. My temper seems to have a rather short expiration date, it drives people away. Just ask my brother." He punctuates his sentence with a wan smile, and Caroline understands, at last, that this is all somehow related to his family again.

She suddenly finds herself desperately at loss for what to say. Rebekah would offer something outrageous and mildly offensive that would still hit the nail on the head. Caroline just wanted him to have some fun, but instead she ended up pushing him right back to his bad place.

She considers apologizing, saying it was just teasing and she never really meant it, but what she winds up saying, however, is, "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Klaus looks up at her, a mix of surprise and something else she can't identify flickering through his eyes.

"Is that how you rationalize your relationships?" he asks.

She huffs out a little laugh. "I don't think that highly of myself. I'm a tall, long-legged blonde. That ticks some boxes, but it hardly makes me irresistible."

"I beg to differ, love. You're an exquisite beauty."

Caroline laughs a little, thinking he's obviously saying that just to be nice, but then she catches the look in his eyes, that intensity that always seems to rattle something deep inside of her. There's not a hint of condescension about him.

"I... Well..." she stammers, her cheeks burning hot. "Thank you."

"But that's not all you are. You're also strong, fierce, full of light. Anyone who fails to see what's underneath your stunning exterior is a fool." Caroline freezes under his stare, something almost reverent in the way he says it, a spark lighting up his face for maybe the first time in a month. It sends Caroline's pulse racing. She's suddenly very much aware of how close they are, the air around them simmering with energy, releasing a fresh batch of butterflies in her stomach. The room is a dozen degrees hotter than a second before, and Caroline doesn't know what to do, what not to do, thinks maybe she's had enough to drink already because her sense of reason is getting all fuzzy.

And then Klaus says, "I heard that on PornTube," and the tension eases off of her as the two of them crack up laughing together.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fic #kcbingo2020 #kc fic #kcfic #klarolinefic #kc fandom #klaus x caroline #yokan writes #fluff apparently

[bnhaclaimedmysoul]

how would the boys be with overly protective sibling of their s/o?

anon requested: Hey! I love your headcanons, and you're writing is spectacular! I was wondering if you could do Bakugou, Tamaki, and Shinsou who's crush has really protective younger brothers that know of their crush? Thank you in advance!

characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Tamaki Amajiki, Hitoshi Shinsou

genre: fluff

note: i’m glad you like my work and hopefully you’ll like this one as well. 

Bakugou Katsuki

-“I’m sorry but you can’t take my sister away from me”

-and when he hears that bold statement

-he’s just really taken aback

-then with a sadistic as hell smirk on his face

-he’ll crouch down to your younger brother’s height and will smugly say

-“and who are you to tell me that you little punk?”

-and if your brother does retort back, get ready to see the glint of menace in his eyes

-before he playfully picks your brother up in his arms

-and puts him up on his shoulders to prove that he is strong

-if he hears anything along the lines of “is that really all you can pick up?”

-expect you your feet to be lifted away into thin air as he carries your body in his arms

-and carries your around while taking the stairs for your room

-and when your brother tries to stop the both of you

-amused, he’ll just slightly glance back at him and will eccentrically ask him to trust him

-and that she sister will remain his sister

-will also show his cool ass quirk to him and try to help your brother strengthen his quirk as well

-as a way to get along and convince your brother to let him hang around you

Tamaki Amajiki

-when he hears that you have a brother who is a tad bit too protective of you

-he’s the first one to retreat away and deny the very possibility of meeting your family

-but when he is reluctantly dragged to your house

-he’ll make sure to actively avoid a confrontation with your brother because he doesn’t want to be seen as weak person

-so he will go and hide in your room

-and when you go downstairs to retrieve some snacks for tama

-your brother would intently pop up demanding tamaki to introduce himself and his relationship to you

-and when he turns into a stammering mess

-and you come in the nick of the moment and shoo your intimidating younger brother away from the poor guy

-and close the door, before plopping right beside him

- he fears that your brother wouldn’t want someone weak like him dating you

-however, the little squirt manages to come back and watch tamaki leaning his head onto your shoulder, while you comfortingly rub his back

-and when he sees your brother standing in front

-so he gathers himself up in the nick of the moment

-and tries to introduce himself by using his quirk of manifestation

-and man

-this young boi was smitten by the old boi

-“name, tamaki is mine. I love him and his quirk”

-and tamaki would be left speechless

-the brother sister duo love him???

-damn he scored

Hitoshi Shinsou

-your parents were out of town and you had to babysit your brother, so you decided to call shinsou over for company

- he isn’t really all that intimidated

-after all it’s just a young kid

-how hard can be to try and convince an 8 year old boi who can fall for a chocolate?

-wrong.

-oh boi hitoshi shinsou was so freaking wrong

-when he’s over your house, he’d just be shocked to see how clingy this boi can really get

-when he sees your brother physically latching onto you and not letting you go

-that is when he realizes the entire rigor of the situation

-he’ll try to seek your brother’s attention

-however, all responses he received were huffs and grunts of disapproval

-so he decides to use his quirk for fun

-but it wasn’t easy to get an answer out of him

-so this clever man decided to go the other way around

-by calling your name

-and the moment you turn around, trying to give him an answer

-your brother intervenes by nagging him

-and boom, he fell for hitoshi shinsou’s trick

-as he stays paralyzed and retreats away

-he’ll snake his way into your embrace for a hug

-and will quietly whisper “what do I do to make him like me? Damn it I love you but it looks like your brother hates me”

-and when you wrap your arms around his neck, chuckle and reply that he shouldn’t bother about it

-it puts him at ease as he deactivates his quirk on the younger boi

-as your brother is now intrigues with how your boyfriends quirk actually works and will eventually accept his place in your life

-h e a r t w a r m I n g

#bakugou x reader #tamaki x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #bakugou headcanons #tamaki headcanons #shinsou headcanons #bakugou fluff #tamaki fluff #shinsou fluff #bakugou scenrios #tamaki scenarios #shinsou scenarios

[ts-unsolved]

Final Wrap-up for Chapter One

((since chapter one will be coming to a close shortly and there is still an assortment of questions left over, here is a masterpost of responses to queries that couldn’t be addressed during the story! 

[reminder: the ask box will be left open, however the characters are not available. please keep in mind that non-plot related questions will not be answered by the characters after this post.]

Anonymous said: ((Just wanted to tell you your drawings are so pretty and I love ur blog. That is all I have no braincells to ask questions))

Anonymous said: OKAY MOD I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW I LOVE THIS AU SO MUCH AND ITS SO COOL AND GOOD AND YOUR ART IS TOO!! sorry for caps I’m just excited

Thank you! Sorry I didn’t always get around to answering asks like this, but for every one that was sent in, I appreciated it with all my heart. You guys are angels 💖

Anonymous said: What is one haunted location you guys would really like to visit someday?

Poveglia is definitely the highest on the list for the notoriety alone, although they would likely never get the permission to go (the history in general is almost excessively horrible and tragic, so nothing good would come out of doing an episode there. Maybe it’d be good as a final-chapter type location? 🤔).

@anxious-fander-bean​ said: Hey Logan, have you ever tried swing dancing? It's really fun and good excersize! There's also a lot of bouncing and upbeat music, so Patton might enjoy it as well! ((I'm doing it. I need the qpp boys to be happy and have fun, bc they deserve it.))

(LOGAN: I’ll...consider it.)

You did it, you got them to go on some good ol’ platonic dates! B)

Anonymous said: I feel bad that I don't have any deep question or something along those lines, but what's your favorite thing to bake, Pat? - 💐

That’s alright! Questions don’t have to be deep to be fun/interesting. 

(PATTON: Cupcakes! You can make so many different flavors, and there are tons of fun ways to decorate them!)

@why-should-i-tell-youu2 said: Why cant anyone else see the seal?

You need to have The Sight to be able to see demon sigils. Patton has this ability naturally, and Dee has it because Elliott taught it to him. Otherwise, Virgil and Roman would be the closest in terms of gaining this ability, but a scared/skeptical part of them is holding them back. 

Anonymous said: My good dorks, is there a way to, I don’t know, get a better/more effective charm for your office? One that costs more than $10? -🍁

Anonymous said: Hey, Logan, potential naturalistic explanation for ya: depending on what the charm was made of, shifts in ambient room temperature could have caused minuscule expansions and contractions in the material that would eventually crack the charm. Do I believe my own explanation? Absolutely not. Am I grasping at straws for a non-supernatural explanation? Absolutely. And ambient room temperature doesn’t even begin to explain the red symbol around the charm

(LOGAN: Our budgeting is already a mess as it is, the last thing we need is to waste more funds on decorations. And that theory seems much more reasonable than the contrary explanation.)

Anonymous said: Is the demon that Pavreen summoned the same demon that possessed Elliott?

Anonymous said: Welp Virge SUMMONED A DEMON- (Why do I have a feeling Remy was the demon that possessed Elliot-)

Nope, they’re all different demons! The demon that Parveen summoned is notoriously difficult to contact, so a bunch of teenagers wouldn’t have been able to do it. Likewise for Remy; you can only summon him once you have his True Name, and he’s already destroyed most references to that (sorry Patton).

Anonymous said: omg omg omg what part of mythology is remy part of???

He’s not from any particular mythology, but he is partly based off of Alps from German folklore and the general mythology around sleep paralysis!

Anonymous said: Can Patton see supernatural beings like ghosts and demons and stuff? I just think it would be interesting if his scars make him able to see them :3c

Anonymous said: If both Dee and Patton can see the sigil, and Dee can see ghosts, does that mean Pat can see ghosts too? With the whole red glowing thing (forgot what its called) it seems to be connected.

Yes he can see ghosts/demons, and you’re right that the scars (or rather the deal with the demon which gave him his powers and scars) are what lead to him being able to do it. The red is just a general indicator of something supernatural/not of our Realm.

Anonymous said: Wait so if Patton and his family all have that mark could that mean Patton is not completely human 👀 -🌈

I supposed you could say that Patton’s not entirely human because he’s a witch who was born without a soul, but he’d find that pretty offensive tbh.

Anonymous said: Are Elliott and Patton maybe related, even distantly? Also, roman needs to suck it up and have Feelings for the Snake Man

There’s no relation between Elliott and Patton. Elliott is the child of a seer and a psychic, Patton is the son of witches. They’re similar, but different. (Also you’re assuming that Roman hasn’t liked the Snake Man since high school, but considered him off-limits because he’s his brother’s best friend).

Anonymous said: Does Patton know that Dee can see spirits and does Dee know that Patton is protecting them all?

Anonymous said: Dee, pat, do you know that each other can see the sigil? 

Anonymous said: is ... is patton a witch and dee a dee-mon and that's why they don't like each other.....?

Anonymous said: Pat what do you think about making deals with demons?

They’re both aware of each other’s secrets! Technically they’re both doing their best to protect everyone, but that doesn’t mean they agree with each other’s methods or bond over the shared responsibility. 

Patton is indeed a witch, and Dee is a regular human who happened to summon a demon one time. Patton thinks Dee is the occult equivalent of a satanist, which he disagrees with because dark magic is unnatural/dangerous in his eyes (making deals with demons only leads to trouble!), and would prefer Dee not endanger his friends. Dee doesn’t like Patton because of his perceived moral superiority, and finds the way he can be so secretive and two-faced creepy 

Regardless, they’re both sitting in glass houses and have more in common than they think.

Anonymous said: Patton Should Hug Dee *

Maybe. But he won’t. 8′D

Anonymous said: Since Dee has been able to see ghosts for a long time, was he an open believer in ghosts before Elliot died? Since it was mentioned that the reason he lies about his belief is because he knows that they're dangerous, he wouldn't have had a reason to hide it in the past. And if he did are any of the others aware of the belief change? Well, besides Remus. I'm guessing that one is pretty obvious.

He may have been more involved as a believer in the past, though that doesn’t mean he was ever super open about it. He was aware of how it would look like to outsiders (being genuinely skeptical at one point himself), so he wasn’t going to paint a target on his back by talking about ghosts and demons and things most people can’t see.

Of course, that didn’t stop people from stereotyping and making those sorts of assumptions about their friend group anyway, but no one besides them really knew about their secret-- not even Virgil.

Anonymous asked: What would happen if one time, the gang ended up getting something supernatural on camera?

The result of that would depend on the being. Ghosts can kinda appear on camera, although it’s very rare for them to appear as a full bodied apparition, which is why they usually only manifest in spirit orbs or light/shadows. Poltergeists are better since they’re able to interact with objects, but likewise since they can’t manifest into a physical form they can easily be brushed off. Demons and other miscellaneous creatures will straight up not appear if captured directly on film; you’ll simply get video glitches and distortions.  

So essentially, they may technically have found something already, but capturing evidence that’s also compelling is a lot more difficult than you’d think. I imagine there’s a good chance that anything legitimate wouldn’t get taken too seriously because of how easy it is to fake evidence nowadays.

Anonymous said: Okay so a little bit of a rant but not really ig but imagine the ladylike and unsolved crossover for this AU like I can see it as like Thomas' friends dressing up Roman and Dee in style and seeing a blushing mess and maybe flirting going on because of how good the clothing complements each other but this is kinda a weak idea lol

It’s not a weak idea at it, it’s really cute! (though I may just have a soft spot for the Ladylike cast and crossovers). 

The only thing to note is that I’ve chosen not to include Thomas’ friends in this AU because I personally weird about writing fiction about real people? (I was on the fence about including character!Thomas for a while too, tbh). So, apologies to anyone who’s sent similar asks or wanted to see any of Thomas’ friends; they wont be around!

Anonymous said: Did Dee and Remus ever have that talk Dee said he would try to have a while back????

They might have gotten the opportunity to chat back when Remus came back to help shoot the Room 1046 video. It wouldn’t have been a complete reconciliation by any means (dealing with years of baggage in one sitting is Hard), but now Remus is aware that Dee is open to discuss things again at some point in the future, so progress!

Anonymous said: wait wHAT?! When did he (Emile Picani) die?? Give us the deets oh wise one

Anonymous said: emile is... dead? what happened?

I see y’all, but unfortunately you’re not getting any answers from me just yet! You’ll have to wait until the next chapter~.

Anonymous said: Shit is about to go down and I am worried about the next ghost "adventure"

:) Don’t Worry About It.))

#OOC #((that should be all the big questions! #i'll update this later if anything comes up))

[lildevyl]

Hearts and Heroes

Summary:  Fans and YouTubers from all around the world come together to help fight against a great evil that invades everyone’s dreams, known as the Terrorlings.  Join Brandy and her team as they team up to help fight the Leader of the Terrorlings and help save their friend and mentor, Markiplier.

This is based on the fan-made game in the Markiplier Community known as Hearts and Heroes.

TW:  Mild Gore, Violence, Fran Bow Game, Hospital, Asylum, Nightmares, Anxiety, Mention of depression

Guest Staring:  @weirdmixofweirdness as Nora Weird

                              Chapter 1: Dream Warrior

(Brandy’s House)

Brandy sat at her computer wiping tears from her face from laughing so hard, as the video of Markiplier Makes Pancakes wrapped up.  She was so glad the Markiplier Makes video ended up in her Recommended.  After a busy weekend like this, it was nice to sit back and just relax a bit.  That and Brandy really needed the laugh.  Her lacrosse practice didn’t go so well, but she was starting to feel a bit better now.  After getting ready for the night and turning off her computer.  Brandy headed off to bed ready for some goodnight sleep.  Not knowing the adventure that awaits her.

(The Manson):

When Brandy woke up, she found herself lying on a - couch?  That didn’t make any sense.  Why would she be on a couch?  Looking around, Brandy realized that she wasn’t’ in her house anymore.  She was in someone else’s home, but where?  Brandy got up and decided to explore, maybe she can find someone and get to the bottom of this.

The more Brandy explored the house the more it seemed familiar to her somehow.  She just couldn’t put her finger on it, but Brandy knew this place looked familiar to her.  It wasn’t until she came across a hallway full of portraits but the faces looked like a giant ex was painted on them.

A portrait of a Chef.  “I thought I told you to stay outta my Kitchen!” A portrait of a Butler.  “The Master will be so displeased!” A portrait of a Woman in a Fortune-teller Room.  “I won’t force this on you.  You have a choice.” A portrait of a Mayor.  “Life is our’s to choose.” A portrait of a Colonel.  “Life needs a bit of madness.” And a portrait of an Actor.  “Life is to live it to the fullest.”

*Same snake, different skin.*

Brandy entered the Kitchen and didn’t find anyone, but wait?  Is that?  Brandy goes over to the Island where a tiny box is sitting and smiling at her.  “Huh?  No way!  Tiny Box Tim!”

“Hiya!”  Tiny Box Time greeted.

Then there was a flash of light and someone else was standing in front of Brandy but was behind Tiny Box Tim.  “Well, hey there, Tiny Box Tim.  How’s my little biscuit doing?  Thanks for notifying me that she’s here!”

“Huh?  Whoa!  You’re Markiplier!”

“Hi.  Listen, I know you have a lot of questions and I’ll try to explain everything as best as I can.  But right now, we need to get someplace safe.”

“Someplace safe?  I don’t understand.  Aren’t I just dreaming?”

“You are.  I am too.  It’s a bit complicated and I promise that I’ll explain everything, as best as I can.”  Mark held out his hand, palm up, gesturing for Brandy to take the first step.

“Um, okay.”

(Markiplier Hub)

Brandy stepped forward next to Mark and the next thing that Brandy knew.  She, Mark and Tiny Box Tim was all being teleported somewhere.  “Whoa.  Okay, feeling a little dizzy.  Okay, now can I know where I am?”

“Yeah, it takes a little getting used too.  And to answer your question, this is basically, home base for people like us.  You, me, and many others were chosen to fight against the Terrorlings.”  Mark started to explain.

“The what?”  Brandy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hear me out on this, alright?  I’ll try to explain as best as I can.  Terrorlings are basically dream-like demons that feed off negative emotions.  Anger, jealousy, grief, sadness, anxiety, uncertainty, and fear.  They can only affect people’s dreams as of right now, but the damage they can cause is very real.  And if they grow strong enough, I'm afraid their darkness will begin to seep into the awaking world.”

“That doesn’t sound good!”  Brandy said getting a little on edge.  She can only imagine what that might be like.

“Yeah, it’s definitely not good.  But that’s why we’re here to help.  This is the Hub or as some people like to call it the Markihub.”

Brandy gave one of her, “Yeah, right” looks at that.  “So, what do we do here?”

“Well, people here train for battling the Terrorlings.  They can also gather supplies and meet up with their teammates before missions.  Then, when the third shift bell rings, a portal will open to take you to the person that needs to be saved.  Speaking of, there’s the first bell!  You’ve still got a lot to do, but I’ll help you get up to speed.  Follow me to the training room.”

Brandy followed Mark to the Training Room, and her mouth fell open.  The Training Room looked more like a dojo!  Training Dummies were set up, different training weapons, and protections when using real weapons during training.  And so many other people were also training as well.  Brandy partnered up with Mark and he showed Brandy the ropes that will be her in her first mission.  After some time, Mark said that Brandy wasn’t too bad for the first in training and showed her the Army.  Mark stayed outside, claiming that the guy in there made him a bit uneasy.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, reader and all other configurations of being, my name is Wilford Warfstache and this is my weapon shop!  I’m in charge of very sharp objects.  Ready to choose your class?  Wilford Warfstache takes no crap from anybody!”  Wilford told Brandy.

“My class?”  Brandy asked, confused.

Wilford then went on to explain the different classes that people here in the dream world can take.  The different weapons they will have and the different training opportunities as well.  But Brandy had to choose carefully.  It was first to come first serve and all sales final after that!  Brandy decided on Warrior since that’s what she would normally choose if this was an RPG Game.

After exploring the Markihub a bit more, trying to figure out where everything is, and the layout of the place.  Brandy decided to find Mark.  She’s still very confused about a lot of things, and Mark did promise that he would explain everything.  Here’s hoping.

“You ready?”  Mark asked.

“I think so,” Brandy said.

“Great.  Now I’ll try to explain things more, especially since I promised to explain everything as best as I can.  Every person has their own Terrorlings.  In the dreams, they can manifest themselves into entities that are familiar to the victim. They invade the person’s head, causing the victim’s dreams to become nightmares, attacking them, and slowly eating away at their sanity.  Our job is to go into their dreams and save them before the Terrorlings do too much damage.” Mark explains.

Bong.

“There isn’t much time left before the portal opens.  And there’s a couple of things you need to do before heading out.  Sometimes, I like to do a quick send-off before the start of a shift.  It can get tough out there, so a few words of encouragement are always good.  What you want to do and I’ll help show you, is to equip before you head on out.  That way you’re fully prepared and have a better chance at fighting the Terrorlings.”

Brandy quickly equipped her armor and Mark showed her how to secure her sword when not in use.  “Okay, I think I’m ready to go, but I still don’t know exactly what I’m going to be doing out there.  I mean, I’ve hit people with a lacrosse stick before, but I never really been in a fight before.”  Brandy confessed.  She was really nervous about botching her first mission and completely messing it up.

“Don’t worry, new recruits face easier enemies on their first missions.  Even though everyone’s dreams are different, we try to make sure no one is going in facing enemies that they can’t handle.  Tonight you’re going to help a college student who’s been going through a tough time.  Their adopted father has been put in jail and their classmates have been really laying it on them.  They're starting to feel like a burden and their anxiety has been going through the roof, even having a few depression episodes.  Here, things like anxiety can take form as Terrorlings.  They start out small, but they can pile up over time and can cause some major harm.  Along, with the depression episodes.  The Terrorlings can probably do a lot of damage if we don’t try to help them out.”

“So, I go into someone’s dream and fight these  .   .   .  Terrorlings?”  Brandy asked.  Now, she was getting really nervous about this.

“Yep, and once they’ve been rescued, the exit portal will appear to take you back to the hub.”

“And  .   .   .   What if I  .   .   .   fail?”  That was one of Brandy’s biggest fears. Failing.  Not just failing a test or something, but actually failing someone.  Failing at helping someone.  Failing at something in life.  Brandy prides herself at being a really good student and yes, she has a lot of sass and tries her best to be a good friend.  But failing, at being a good friend, a good daughter.  It always made Brandy nervous that she might not be good enough.

“You’ll do great.  I know you can do it.  You were chosen for a reason.”

“If you say so,” Brady says, feeling a little confident now.  “Then, is it about time to start?”

“Yeah!  Let’s get going!”

As the third bell was about to toll, everyone gathered at the entrance where the portal will appear.  And as usual, everyone started talking among themselves, while Mark tried to get everyone’s attention.  A lot of people just did this knowing that, it would annoy Mark, it was kinda a thing that everyone did every now and then.

“Okay, now that I have your attention!”  Mark starts off awkwardly.  “We all know why we’re here.  There are dark things out there threatening the well-being of good people.  But we’re here to stop them.  Each and every one of us has something in your heart that can shine through that darkness and let you reach out to others.  Some of you were saved, others were chosen.  Chosen by what? 

Well to be honest  .   .   .  I have no freaking idea.  I’ve been doing this for a few years now and I still haven’t been able to figure it out.  But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop fighting.  Every night the darkness attacks, but our numbers continue to grow with every person saved.  Helping people is what I’m all about.  So, I’m taking this chance to do just that.  I want you all to know that even though things will get rough out there, I believe in you and I know you can do it!  And if it gets too much for you, just know that we’re all here for you and you can always ask for help.”

Bong.

“One more thing for the new people.  You, see that heart everyone has on their sleeves?  It’s the mark of a hero.  Not everyone you save will have one, but if they do, it means they’ll be joining our ranks in the fight against the Terrorlings. Alright, everyone!  Good Luck out there!”

The portal opened and everyone went through.  Talking to themselves or giving each other a last-minute pep talk.  Mark came to where Brandy was standing. “Let’s go!”

“Hang on second,” Brandy said.  “You said that each person had to be saved from the Terrorlings, right?”  Mark gave her a nod.  “Then what about me?  I wasn’t being attacked when you came and got me.  I was literally in a   .   .   . House?  Mansion?”

“Well like I said, sometimes people get chosen.  That’s what happened to me too.  I don’t know how this works, but it’s just one of those things where you get the chance to do some good and you’ve just gotta take it.”

“I guess that makes sense.  It’s kinda like donating to a charity or tutoring someone right?”

“Well, sorta.  If that helps you understand a bit better.”

“Hey, man.  I got enough sass on my own.  I don’t need any more from you.” Brandy said, crossing her arms.  “Anyway, I guess we should get going.  Here goes nothing!”

“You’ve got this!”

(Oswald Asylum)

“Whoa!  So, we’re in someone else’s dream right?”  Brandy asked looking around.  Oh, damn.  Where the hell are they?  Is this some kind of hospital?  Great, she hated hospitals!

“Yep!  We should hurry and try to find them before the Terrorlings do.”

“Are you going to stick with me through my whole shift?”

“Ah, sick of me already?  I’ll stay with you for as long as I can, but I have to eventually get back to my own objectives.”  Mark then looked around and suddenly his expression changed upon recognizing their surroundings.  “Oh, great I know where we are.”

“Wait, you do?  Where are we then?”

“This will certainly be an interesting first mission for ya.”  Both Mark and Brandy suddenly heard someone scream and came, barreling down the hall.  With what looked to be zombie-like skeletons chasing them.  “Looks like they need our help.  Let’s go!”

The person ran right by them and locked themselves in a room.  The Terrorlings start to taunt and scratch at the door.  Laughing and calling out to the person that was trapped in this nightmare.

“You’re Dad’s a criminal!” “He could have killed so many people just using his talent!” “He’s Dark’s puppet!  And you’ll be next!  You’ll be serving him, and no one will take you seriously.” “Not even the writer of this fanfic!”

=========

“Huh?!  How did -  Wait, are these guys breaking the fourth wall here?”  The writer of this fanfic says to absolutely no one.  “Okay, that must have been a typo!  Come on, I’m not even writing Wilford, the Host, the Author, or Darkiplier in this story yet and you guys are breaking character and the fourth wall already?!”

The writer of this story goes back to what she was writing and hopes to whatever Creator Power that is out there, that there won’t be any more breaking character or the fourth wall.

I guess she doesn’t know us, characters from the Markiplier Community, too well, do she?

“I’m going to pretend that I don’t see that and will continue to write this story the way I intended on writing it”

Okay. 👼

“Thank You!  Now, where was I?  Oh yes.  The person runs into a room locking the door behind them.”

========

(Oswald Asylum)

The person ran right by them and quickly locked themselves in a room.  The Terrorlings start to taunt and scratch at the door.  Laughing and calling out to the person that was trapped in this nightmare.

“Hey, jerks!  Over here!”

The Terrorlings turned around and their smiles grew to an ear to ear grin.  They came over to where Brandy and Mark were standing and were ready to fight. Brandy quickly grabs her sword and swings it around.  It was a bit heavy but it fit her perfectly as far as her body type.  Mark brought his staff and was ready to kick some ass.  The Terrorlings went after Brandy and Mark and the fight was on!  It was three against two.  Two of the Terrorlings, Brandy guests were the stronger ones, went after Mark and the Terrorling that Brandy got either wasn’t as skilled, as strong as the others or this Terrorling thought that Brandy would be slim pickings.

Brandy would be the first to admit to that she was by far any kind of fighter, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going down without a fight.  As the fight went on, it was clear that Brandy was a newbie, but holding her own.  The Terrorling did manage to get some good shots on Brandy but Brandy was able to block a lot of the Terrorling’s attacks and was able to get some shots in as well.  Brandy briefly saw Mark successfully battling two Terrorlings at once, and hoped that she would be able to get to that level.

Right now, that got someone they need to save.  Brandy blocked the Terrorling’s attacks and was able to get one final blow.  What shocked Brandy the most was, one point the Terrorling was standing right there, then the next moment, Brandy was staring at a pile of ash.  Brandy quickly went to check on Mark only to see that he as well had two piles of ash.

“The Terrorlings become ashes when defeated.  Then they regenerate and go after other people here in the dream world,” Mar explained upon seeing Brandy’s shocked and confused look.

“I guess that makes sense.  We should get to the person we’re trying to save.”  Brandy headed to the room where they saw the person ran into.

Mark tried the door.  “Locked.  Hello?  Anyone in there?  You can come out now! We’re here to help you.”  Mark tried calling out to them and even lightly, knocked on the door.  No one answered.

“I think I can help with this,” Brandy said.  She then pulls out a few bobby pins from her hair and quickly put them together.  Then she goes over to the locked door and tries to pick the lock.  It takes Brandy a few tries and luckily it’s an old fashion lock.  “Walla!  The door is now open!”  Brandy opened the door, letting Mark go first, with a small bow.  Mark just smiled and shook his head fondly.

When Mark and Brandy entered the room, both of them found the room to be completely empty besides the bare essentials.  A bed, a window with the currents on the floor, and a dresser, that was it.  The person who ran in here was gone.  They must have ran, off somewhere, but where is the question?

Beep, beep, beep.

“Oh, sorry.  I have to go now.  But as I was about to say earlier I know which this is,” Mark explained after looking at his watch.  “This is Fran Bow.  I think once you find the person we’re looking for, and head to the end of the maze you should be good.  Just be careful, and whatever you do, don’t take the red pills!”

“Will do Mark!”  Brandy assured.

After Mark disappeared through the portal, Brandy decided to look around.  What better way to figure out who she needs to find then look around the room she’s in.  Plus, Brandy didn’t remember watching the playthrough of Fran Bow so this is completely new to her.  Looking around the room (didn’t take that long) Brandy found a file of the person she was looking for.

Patient’s Name:  Nora Weird

Parent/Parental Guardian:  Adopted Father Author Fischbach

Case:  Patient Nora Weird is the adopted daughter of the Author, one of the oldest Egos of Mark Fischbach (YouTuber Markiplier) and one of the deadliest ones.  After her adopted father had been arrested and taken in by Jackieboy Man, Nora has been severally bullied.  And started to show signs of possibly having the same powers as her adopted father. Patient believes that she is not “real” and is trying to find a “Creator” to use their powers to become “real.”   If not treated and suppress these powers, then it is theorized that she too, will be as powerful and insane as her adopted father. Powers:  Being able to write things down in a story and then narrates the story.  The story and/or characters become real.

‘Oh, wow!’  That was the first thing that Brandy thought when she read that.  Wait, did they just say that one of Mark’s Ego’s is her “Adopted Father?”  Okay, this nightmare is more confusing than anything else.  How can one of Mark’s older Egos be Nora’s adopted father?  The Author isn’t real.  Brandy was here in Nora’s nightmare to help her, so Nora’s a real person like her.  Like Mark.  Alright, so this file must be made up and is mixing things up, to try and drive Nora over.

‘Hang in there Nora.  Help is on the way.’  Brandy thought to herself as she headed out of the room.  Time to explore the hospital, maybe someone will be able to help her find Nora.

======

Tagging:  @weirdmixofweirdness, @isa-ghost, @septic-dr-schneep, @nightfuryobsessed, @fischyplier, @dezzydynamite, @kangaroo-roux, @shadowsinyoursoul, @marshmallowmischief, @juju-on-that-yeet, @m4delin, @stained-puppet, @10th-no-name-person

#markiplier #writersofmark #heartsansheroes #markiplier fanfic #fanfic #heartsandheros blue #guest star #nora weird #the narrator #weridmixofweirdness #fangame #markiplier fangame #okay i finally got this out #next chapter will out soon #i hope #let me know what you think in the comments #angst #whump #tw anxiety #tw mention of depression #tw hospital setting #tw asylum setting #tw nightmares #mild gore #violence

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I have a ton of insomnia writing in the drafts, so time to start unloading some of it. The usual “as is” rules apply, and I’ll try to keep most of it under the cut,

It just occured to me that I actually have one piece of good advice to give:

If you challenge someone to a duel, ALWAYS have a witness for the fight!

I learned this the hard way when I was a little girl. But to understand why I felt the need to even duel someone, you need to understand the background.

When I was a little girl my family lived in our house in town, which meant until I was 9 I was running around with a gang of kids. I say “kids”, but I pretty much mean boys. There were a couple of years during that time when a girl was inthe neighborhood, one being one of the best friends I had in my life and the other....not, but almost the entire time I was the only girl in the neighborhood.

Now some folks think being the only girl would be terrible, but in a lot of ways it was fine. Kids are kids, rampaging around the neighborhood, and thanks to my family I never felt things should be “girl stuff” and “boy stuff”. I just played.

 In fact, at times being the only girl even gave me a curious power position. I knew “girl things” they didn’t. I can still remember the shock on the face of one of the boys when I tried to explain that I didn’t just piss outside like them because of anatomical differences. He just assumed girls had dicks too. 

BTW, groups of very little boys can get awfully competitive about their dicks. Not that they called them that. They honest to god called them “ding-a-lings”! LOL  In fact, a few times they even had a contest where they would line up with their pants dropped wanting me (the only one that was exempt)  to decide which looked “best”. Remember, at the time we were very little kids, so the concept of “best” was exceptionally vague.** I hope I didn’t give any of those boys a lifelong complex because of something I said in all innocence! But geez, they were obsessed with the idea that whatever hung between their legs was very, very important.

Anyway, running around playing being a girl among boys wasn’t bad all the time. Heck, while the boys could fight over who got to play Han and Luke when we played “Star Wars” or Mark and Jason when we played “Battle of the Planets”, I always knew I wouldn’t have to compete for my part in the games. Though I’m still a little irked to the way their only solution to Gargantuas in War of the Gargantuas being both male was I’d play “the green Gargantua’s wife, at least we always found a way even if what we were playing didn’t have a token girl.

All that being said, there were real disadvantages too, especially as the bots came to learn the rules around gender. I was a girl. They knew it and at times they would think it meant I was supposed to defer to them. This led to many a fight and tears.

For instance, once one of the boys got a BB gun. 

Naturally we all wanted to take turns using it in a makeshift backyard shooting gallery. Trouble was, as far as they were concerned girls weren’t supposed to shoot. Now considering all the toy cap guns they borrowed from me when we played, and the gun I had that shot cork balls had been the envy of all the kids*** until this BB gun, it seems crazy they would think girls weren’t allowed “real” guns. I begged a turn, outshot them all, and never was allowed to touch the gun again. ****Having a girl be the best shot kinda stung for them! LOL

The boys would do this now and then, throw me for a loop with “you are a girl” as a reason I should or shouldn’t do a thing. Being a “sissy” was a common insult used among the kids. A kid should be tough and brave, try never to get crying or show weakness, or sometimes they would even use “like a girl” as an insult. 

I learned that my “girly” side was more of a target, so I got so in the toy chest in the living room I kept the guns, cars, blocks, etc for the boys to use, but kept hidden away in my bedroom the girly stuff like dolls. In fact I kept things like play makeup buried in drawer where no one could find them...

Yes, I was a girl, both in my personal identification and as the whole world saw me, and yet I hid my “girl stuff” like a teenager hiding drugs or dirty magazines. It was the big drawback of usually being the only girl. The girly side of being a girl was something to be quiet about.

So grew up thinking that the way to impress a guy was to be strong, tough,  smart, brave, and not at all squeamish. If boys admire each other for not being a sissy, then certainly they would admire a girl for being that way.  

Oddly enough, never once did a boy reciprocate my crushes because I wasn’t a sissy. Oh, they would like me for it, but it was seeing me as one of the guys and never as romantic potential. Or maybe not oddly. I may be hetero CIS female, but the world sees me as not girly enough in my presentation to quite believe me.

TBH, I still have a problem with that. I never learned the rules of being girly. I never was taught how to put on makeup, do hair, know about fashion, move in that swaying hips and crossed ankles when you sit kind of way... 

And down deep I don’t want to have to put on that act. I want to be me. I want someone to love me without makeup or styling, not because of the clothes I wear or because of skills with flirting games. I want to be loved for me, and girly is only part of me. Part of me is walks in the woods where I photograph snakes and spiders. Part of me is climbing in the roof to repair a leak or taking apart the hot water heater to figure out how to fix it....

I have always been a combination of things. Things like how I like romantic comedies and horror films, I picked out my antique sword because it felt like it would swing in my hand well and it had little flowers on the hand guard, or how I love classical and punk.I never wear dresses during the day, because they aren’t practical for my rough and dirty life, plus  they can make you very vulnerable. And yet at night I always wear the prettiest nightgown I can find. I had a unique “Captain’s Canopy Bed” as a child, because I loved both the captain’s bed (a bunk woth drawers under it billed as a “boy bed” by people that gender everything) and longed for a canopy bed. My father sensibly combined the two for me. To me it has never been about a contradiction or conflict, but just that different aspects manifest under different circumstances. 

I really can’t understand why people are expected to fit into catagories neatly, label themselves, force themselves to deny parts if themselves just to belong. Still,  I expect I would be happier if I could have at least forced myself to fake it.

Anyway, the boys were learning girls were “supposed” to be a certain way, and I was constantly insisting this wasn’t true. They would pick on me amd we would fight. Oddly, this “girls can’t” attitude never applied to fighting. They never went easier on me because I was a girl. 

Once they got me treed and the henchman boy was told to go get something to hit me with. I warned him not to, but he didn’t listen. As he went to get the weapon I lept out of the tree in a tackle, and began punching him. My grandmother ran out shouting for me to stop. “It’s not ladylike!!” she cried, while  I shouted back in frustration “They were going to hit me!!” 

Don’t worry, I wasn’t punished. Grandma..well, it’s complicated with her...and my parents would never punish me for something like that. Years later Mom would admit she and Pop were proud if me after that fight. “The boys picked on you so much I was glad you hit them”...

Hmmm, now that I think about it, Mom’s most common response to sexist attitudes in movies and tv shows is to grumble “Oh hit him!” Folks have no idea about Mom’s violent side, the part that watched Xena: Warrior Princess and sighed “I always wanted to be able to leap around and fight like that!” People think she is “sweet”, when Pop was always the family softie! LOL

As we got older, the sexism of the boys got worse and so did our conflict. One boy, a year older than me and the oldest of the usual gang, was the worst. His own mother was a rather strong and independent person, so it was almost confusing how he could be that way. As far as he was concerned the social structure was thatthe older the boy the higher the rank, and girls were at the bottom. It was inevitable that one day their would be an explosion.

The final straw came over, of all things, me wanting to make our gang of friends into a club. It was all the fault if a kids magazine called Dynamite, that put out a book on making your own club, complete with membership cards printed in a fold out of the cover you could cut out. It sounded like a great idea. It wasn’t.

To be honest, I shouldn’t have been at all surprised. By this point the oldest boy had gotten to be a complete pain about gender roles, but also about me in particular. My first day of kindergarten he’d been the only person I knew all day, so when I passed him in the hall I’d said “Hello”. The boy next to him asked who I was and he said “I don’t know!” right in front of me. I had started to consider our “friendship” differently after that, and his now increased insistence that boys were superior increased the rift.

To make matters worse, the boys had developed some sort of age based ranking. When I invited the oldest boy’s little brother to come to the club meeting too, the guy had been outraged. It had seemed natural to me, I mean I invited my little brother. I always wanted to include everyone. To the boys, the younger boys didn’t count and the older you were the more power you were “supposed” to have.

Now for the club I’d fixed up a corner of the shed out back. I put up posters, made a candle (I just loved making candles and melting wax when I was little...us GenXers lived dangerous lives!LOL), set up chairs and a table, had refreshments and, of course, the membership cards. I couldn’t wait for them to show up.

Once the boys arrived I said it was time to elect officers. Immediately the oldest boy announced there was no need and started to pass out the cards. He said he would be president because he was oldest, my favorite boy would be vice president, the thieving henchman would be treasurer because he was next oldest, the other boys would be just members, and I would be...secretary. 

Oh he was glad to explain. Girls are always secretaries. Only girls can be secretaries. Girls can never be president. The other boys accepted this.

Naturally I was outraged. This was NOT right! We were supposed to vote! And we were supposed to vote for who would be best for the job, not who was oldest or a boy. Girls CAN be president! And besides, the club was my idea and the clubhouse in my yard so I shouldn’t be stuck being the stupid secretary without even voting!!!!

There was a lot of shouting after that. The boys stormed off, taking the cards with them. I went in the house to take the refreshments, and the boys snuck back to trash the place. They tore the posters, smashed my candle, and turned over the furniture. 

I cried.

I was also furious.

I was beyond fed up with the oldest boy and his assumption of leadership. Now my favorite boy did apologize, but he was always the nice one. The others were unrepentant. The oldest boy insisted he was right that girls could never lead. 

There was only one thing left to do: Challenge the oldest boy to a duel.

I went right up to him and said I’d had enough. I was challenging him to a fight. One on one, just him and me. No weapons, just our strength. The winner would be the leader of the kids.

I know it’s absurd, but since physical fighting is what they valued I figured I had to go with it. Actually, if anything, a fight would be skewed in my favor. While the boy was a year older, I was a head taller. Where he was lanky, I’d gotten to be a sort of muscular and agile fat.***** Physically the avantage was mine, an since refusing to fight me would be so embarrassing to him I knew I’d get the fight. 

He agreed, and then I made a very stupid mistake. I decided to show him a bit of mercy. Since losing to a girl would be so humilating, I set the time and place where we would meet alone for our fight. I wanted to win, to make my point, but  I wasn’t trying to shame him.

And so the time came. We met in a back yard, in clear area  hidden from windows in case an adult was looking by trees. I wish I could tell you some dramatic blow by blow, but honestly I remember it as very quick. He fancied he knew fighting moves, got into a pose, and I flattened him. Almost admittedly I had him pinned to the ground where I sat on top of him until he admitted I had won. 

I went home overjoyed. This lasted until the kids got together. I, oh so foolishly, assumed I was now leader. The boy, however, was not about to give up power...or tell the truth. 

As an adult I realize my naivety, but at the time I was 7 or 8. I honestly had believed the boy would have been honest. I always told the truth, so why wouldn’t he? And since we had made a sort of “official” deal, he would be obliged to tell the truth. 

He lied. Right there, right in front of me, he lied. 

The boy announced he had won. I said he was lying, that I had won, and he laughed. Of course he had won. He was a boy. Did the boys really think  a girl could beat him?

 I offered to fight him again right there, but he refused saying he’d already won. I couldn’t get him to feel pressured to fight me again because now the boys wouldn’t really want him to. On some level I think they believed me and knew I would win if we fought again. As long as they didn’t see me clobber him they could pretend the boys “deserved” to be in charge. They needed the lie as much as he did.

And so I learned a lesson: witneses matter. People will almost always lie if the truth threatens them. 

You know, I think this is why I have always been obsessed with watching when something horrible is happening. I always had this feeling that even when I can’t help, I can be there for the person in some way. I’d listen, watch, and remember. When I was 9 I stood in the snow, no coat and no socks, waiting until a man was removed from a crashed car because I didn’t want to “abandon” him. I would report teachers that did something incredibly wrong, even though I knew the teacher would deny it and I knew my classmates were too afraid to back me up, because the truth had to be known. I wanted to be the witness I needed for that fight, someone to back me up when no one wants to hear the truth.

As a footnote, after the duel failed I tried one more way to defeat the oldest boy: Voodoo!

Well, voodoo by way of a book I’d been reading. It wasn’t real voodoo, or probably like any realistic magical practices. In the book someone had carved a skull into a tree, written someone’s name under it, and the  hammered a nail into the center of the skull with devastating consequences to the victim. I had a pocket knife and a nail, so I gave it a go.

Sadly voodoo didn’t work. 

Even more sadly the boy grew up to move away from this hick town, get a good job, get married and have kids. In other words, he got a far better life than I’ve had. Oh well, the universe never cares about fairness.

** Actually one boy always won, because TBH I liked everything about him best.

***Hilariously, one of the boys tried to steal my cork gun, claiming it was his. Pop had engraved my name in the gun sight, and when my father pointed at to ask what it said, the boy claimed it was his name! That boy was never very bright, always dishonest, and a born henchman! LOL You know, I bet that toy gun would have been illegal to make just a few years later, just because it literally fired things. Heck, maybe it already was and had been sitting on the store shelf for years before I got it. We couldn’t find one like it a coulle years later for my little brother.... 

****I want to point out being a good shot runs in the family. Back in the 1960s when my family had to shoot for self defense (long story) Mom was apparently a crack shot. On one side of her family she has had relatives that were at times the official best shot for their branch of the military. One, even as an old man in poor health, liked to show off how he could selectively shoot off small tree top branches a long diatance uphill from him. Plus, Mom likes to mention she is distantly related to Annie Oakley, which is apparenty true.

*****Traumatic stuff happened when I started school, triggering a bunch of sudden changes with me. One was weight gain, but I had stayed strong as ever. 

#childhood #gender #fighting #duel #sexism #children

[staticscreenwriting]

To the stars beyond the blue - one

Summary: Kathleen Sawyer has a problem with authority and people telling her what to do, especially if “people” is her Stepdad Dave. Having had enough of her attitude, Dave and her mom decide it’s time for her to leave behind the temptations of New York City and learn some responsibility while staying with her aunt Susan in small, sleepy Hawkins, Indiana. Though what neither of them know, is that the biggest temptation is waiting for her right there and it comes with a mullet and a killer smile.

This is gonna be an 18+ series. I’m planning to add quite a bit of smut, swearing and topics that could potentially be triggering to some people (domestic abuse - physical and emotional). The abuse will not be romanticized, I promise you that. Just be aware that these themes will be mentioned and explored. 

next chapter >>

Chapter one - meet Kathleen

Ron’s Deli smells like old grease and cigarette smoke and the fluorescent lights send a loud buzzing noise through the entire place. There’s an assortment of sandwiches displayed, though I know better than to order any of them. Coffee, that’s what I’m here for. Coffee and warmth.

My boots, still wet from the snow covering the streets outside, make a squeaking sound against the linoleum floor that alerts Ruby who’s slumped over the counter, flicking through some kind of fashion magazine. 

“ Haven’t seen you in a while “ she murmures, eyes focusing back on the magazine, making no attempt to actually take my order. 

“ Some of us actually work, you know “ I reply. That’s not even close to the truth and Ruby knows this just as well as I do. But neither of us acknowledges it because that’s not the relationship we have. I don’t want to talk about it and she doesn’t care. So we settle for superficial quips. 

“ Bite me, Kathleen. “ 

“ Nah thanks, you know my rules. No food at Ron’s. Just coffee “ 

“ Just coffee “ she repeats then turns around and grabs the pot and pours me a big mug of steaming hot coffee.

“ Thanks. Put it on my tab. “ 

She always nods but never actually does. I don’t think I’ve paid for my coffee in years.

I drag myself towards my booth in the furthest corner of the place. I call it my booth but if we’re being overly correct I have to mention that I do, in fact, not have ownership of this particular booth. It’s just the one I always find myself in. Have done so for years.

The tv mounted up in the corner is playing some black and white christmas movie. The volume is too low to hear anything being said but I can tell the movie after a few seconds. Miracle on 34th street. I remember watching it with my dad when I was a kid. He was always big about old black and white movies. 

I never told him but I don’t really like it. There’s a thing about Christmas movies where even though most of them have happy endings, a lot of them always make you feel miserable for a huge amount of the runtime. It’s like “look at this sad person ON CHRISTMAS. Then remember how lucky you are. Because you too could be sad. ON CHRISTMAS “.

It’s very preachy and if I’m being honest, I don’t see the appeal of movies that purposely make me sad. 

Back then I wasn’t really aware of what it feels like to be sad on Christmas. I do now. It’s like they describe it in the movies only 10 times worse. Because there’s no happy ending waiting for you after 120 minutes. It just goes on and leads to a sad new years and a sad spring and a sad summer.

“ Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind...  “ oh fuck right of, Kris you absolute bullshitter.

The bell above the door pulls me from my Christmas blues and I watch a couple stumble into the shop. They’re smiling, holding hands. The dude can’t seem to keep his lips of her neck. She walks up to the counter. I can only imagine Ruby’s annoyed sigh and the roll of her eyes.

“ Hi, two turkey delis please “ the girl says between giggles. I feel kinda bad for her. She must be a tourist. Locals know not to eat at Ron’s. Only coffee. Iced tea in the summer. That’s it.

Ruby grumbles something to them before they settle down in the booth across from me. Well there goes me sulking in silence. I try to ignore their loved up giggles as the warm coffee makes its way down my throat. I really try not to pay them any attention. But once I notice his hand squeezing her boobs, that’s enough to make even me uncomfortable.

I take one last sip then scoot out of the boot hand walk towards Ruby. She’s resorted from flipping through the magazine to using the magazine as a underlay while she paints her nails right there on the counter. Another reason not to eat here. 

“ So what do you say, do I suit this color ? “ She asks and holds a hand out for me to see. She always paints them red, every single time. Apparently they’re all different shades though so far I’ve been unable to see even the slightest difference.

“ Sure. “ 

“ Thanks for the enthusiasm.” 

“ You’re welcome. Anyway, I’m going to head out. Thanks for the coffee. “

Ruby looks up again then throws a disapproving look at the couple that is pretty much dry humping each other at this point “ did the lovebirds scare you off ? Disgusting. “ 

“ Let them be, they’re in love. “ 

She scoffs at that then goes back to her nails “ of course you’d think that. You’re just as bad. “ 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ Means I’ve seen you at parties. With guys. It’s uh — quite something really. “ 

“ Ah shut up, Ruby. “ I say and roll my eyes. It’s none of her business really. Though I know it doesn’t come from a place of malice, her words still rub me the wrong way. I have to remind myself that she’s just bitter. She should be married right now, living with her husband in some cute little house in Jersey, popping a few kids and living the suburban dream. Instead he fucked her sister at the rehearsal dinner and she’s left alone, bitter, sad and working at a really shitty deli.

“ Just sayin’ “ 

“ Mmh. Anyway tell your dad I said hi and to call me if he ever feels lonely. “ 

“ You’re vile. “ 

I only smile at that, pull my jacket closer around my body and step into the cold december air.

New York City is always busy. Always. People crowd the streets like ants on a popsicle forgotten on the lawn in a hot summer’s day. Though around christmas time, it feels like twice as many people flock to the city to catch a glimpse of what the perceived to be the ultimate manifestation of christmas magic.

The truth is, it’s cold and loud and crowded and if anything, it’s a perfect reminder just how materialistic we humans really are. If there’s anything to advertise, you’ll get it advertised here. They try to appeal to your innermost romantic. That girl that believes diamonds and flowers are a sign of true love. That kid that still holds faith in santa and miracles.

It makes me a little sick as I pass store after store, bustling with holiday shoppers. 

The further I walk the colder it gets. I tug my beanie further down my head, trying to keep my ears warm as I hop down the steps of the subway station. There’s an older man playing the violin while wearing a santa hat. I toss him a quarter and he gives me a smile and I feel like I’ve just earned a few karma points. Shiny gates, I’m coming for you.

It’s early december and New York is fucking freezing. It’s an all consuming kind of cold. The one you feel seeping through your body all the way to your bones. I wish I could say it goes away once I’m home and snuggled up in my bed. It doesn’t. It’s the kind of cold that stays with you. 

There’s a man eying me as I step on the train, he’s got bushy unkempt eyebrows and a mean mustache. His tongue licks at his bottom lip every few seconds. Like a deranged snake or something, only way creepier. I try to avoid eye contact. Eye contact it seems only works as a silent invitation to guys like him. 

From the corner of my eye I take notice of all his moves though. One has to be prepared always. I grab a hold of my keyes, let them stick out between my knuckles. I don’t know if he notices. I hope he does.

When the train pulls up at my stop, my heart speeds up a little. A silent mantra echoes through my head “please don’t get up. Please don’t get up.” It’s one thing being tough and brave when you’re in a train with many other people. It’s a whole different story when you’re passing through dark, deserted alleyways on your way home.

The trains stops and I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans. He eyes me again as I step up to the doors. I’m still avoiding eye contact but at this point I can tell that he can tell. I can just about make out as his lips pull into a smirk. There’s nothing amusing about this situation, not to me at least. To think that he finds joy in this makes me physically sick.

The doors open and I step outside, a gust of cold wind hitting my face. I turn around and the doors close behind me and, to my delight, I can see him sitting in the same spot, looking at me through the dirty window of the train. He winks as the train pulls away and I can feel my lunch making its way up my throat again.

I can hear them yelling as I unlock the door. Dave’s voice thunders through the place, spewing expletives and hatred. 

“ Jesus Christ, Joan. What is wrong with you? Spending money on shit we don’t need but the one thing, the one thing I asked you to buy, you forget ? Are you really that fucking dumb ? “

My blood starts boiling though I know better than to step in. It only makes it worse.

Mom says sorry. So many times. Too many times. Her voice is timid and small and I hate that this is what he turns her into. When I was little mom was strong and brave and happy. She was creative and fun and adventurous. Now she’s but a shell of herself. An obedient little housewife who settles for a man that treats her like absolute dirt.

They look up at me as I enter the kitchen room and I can see fear in my mom’s eyes. I think that’s the worst thing. To see your mom scared. No kid should have to see their mom this scared. I wish I didn’t. 

“ Hi. “ 

“ Look who’s finally decided to show up. Where’ve you been ? “ Dave scoffs. He thinks just because my mom spreads her legs for him, he gets any say in what I do. Truth is, he doesn’t give a fuck what I do, he’s just a sucker for control. It’s like his ultimate wet dream, to have us do exactly how he says and behave just the way he asks us to. 

“ Out. “ 

“ Out where ? “

“ None of your business. “ 

“ Kathleen “ mom scolds me. I know she has this fantasy of us three living like a perfect family, all happy and joyful. Smiling at each other as we sit around the dinner table talking about our days before we settle on the couch to watch Happy Days.

That’s not reality though. Reality looks pretty bleak right now. Reality is absolute bullshit.

“ I was at the library, okay ? “ 

“ With a boy ? “ 

“ No, what the fuck are you on about. “ 

“ I know the kind of girl you are, Kat. I know girls like you. “ 

Girls like me. 

Dude doesn’t know shit.

“ Sluts “ he spits out. I know he does it to rile me up. He’s just waiting for me to make a mistake so he can put me in my place and assert his dominance. God, he’s such an asshole.

“ Dave ! Don’t call her th— “ mom doesn’t get to finish the sentence before he smacks her across the face, a loud slapping noise echoing through the room. It never gets easier. Watching him hit her. Watching her excuse his actions. Watching them continue as normal.

“ I told you, to shut up, Joan. You know what happened with the boy. The man.“��

I lock eyes with her, begging her to say something. Do something. End this misery. She has the power to do so. This is our apartment. Out food. Our money. She has all the power in the world and yet, when she averts her eyes, I know it means nothing. 

Dave looks at me again then flops down on the couch, resting his feet on the couch table and clutching a beer in his meaty slob of a hand.

“ Ma, “ I approach her, wanting to comfort her. This is my mother and despite her flaws and issues, I love her. Sometimes I wonder if she returns the sentiment. 

“ I’m okay. “ 

“ But you’re not!” 

“ I said, I am okay. “ the look in her eyes gives me no room to argue. This conversation is over. This topic is over. For now. 

Because those things are never really over, are they ? 

I take a can of coke from the fridge then sit down on the bench by the window. The snow is softly falling outside and if I didn’t despise the cold so much, I’d even call it pretty. It’s a huge contrast to how things are inside right now. Snow falls slowly, piecefully. My mind is chaos, loud and crowded like Times Square on New Years. 

I try to focus on my book and not on Dave who belches after every gulp of beer or my mom who’s perched on the corner of the couch, close enough for him to feel validated and yet far enough for her own comfort. I hate that this place doesn’t feel like a home anymore. It feels like a prison. Like a cage.

That annoying coke commercial comes on tv and I remember a christmas, many years ago. Dad sits in the recliner, we’re in our old apartment and it’s warm inside. The snow falls softly and the place smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. Mom is happily singing along to the commercial and dad’s placing a kiss on her head and it’s not a very important memory but it means so much to me. Because those christmases were good. 

My eyes wander towards the shelf by the door, the one that holds a lot of things. Those kind of things you don’t know where else to put. There’s a bowl you’re supposed to put keys in, none of us ever do, and a sculpture I made in 4th grade art class. There’s random books and records and a cassette deck that doesn’t work anymore. 

I look the shelf up and down, searching for the one thing in there that means something. The one thing I deliberately placed there because I wanted to see it every time I leave the house.

But it’s gone and my heart shatters.

“ Where’s the picture of dad ? “ 

“ Huh ? “ mom looks up at me. I can see it in her eyes. She heard me just right and she knows where it is.

“ The picture of dad on the shelf. Where is it ? “ 

“ It’s time to move on “ Dave chimed in with his throaty, dark voice. He sounds like he constantly has a meatball stuck in his gullet. It’s fucking disgusting. “ He’s been dead for years now. No use in grieving no more. “ 

Use in greiving ? Does he think we chose to be sad ? Does he really think I can just go and decide not to miss my dad anymore ? Not to be sad anymore ? Not to feel like my heart is bursting into a million little pieces whenever something reminds me of my dad ?

“ What did you do ? “ 

“ Put it where it belongs ?  “ 

I can feel the hot red rage burning inside, behind my eyes, in the tips of my fingers. 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ He’s gone, Kat. Get over it. I live here now and I don’t wanna be reminded of that fact that your ma had another man before me. It don’t matter no more, you’re my family now !” he bellows, getting off his ass and towering over me like a giant sequoia tree.

This man doesn’t know the first thing about being a family. I don’t know a lot about it either but I know this isn’t it.

“ Fuck you, Dave. Dad belongs here ! We’re his family, mom is his wife. You’re just some asshole she keeps around for god knows what reasons. Just a boyfriend, those come and go “.

He’s awfully silent at that. It’s scarier than the yelling and the mean words. Like he’s taking it all in, waiting, building. It’s gonna come crashing down on me in a minute, I just know it.

The snarl disappears and makes room for a smirk so unsettling, it freezes my blood right there in my veins.

“ Is that so ? Tell her Joan. “ 

“ Tell me what ? “ Oh god. Oh god, no.

“ Dave, this is not the ti— “ 

“ Tell her ! “ he yells and mom flinches then turns to me, eyes never once leaving the carpet.

“ Baby, Dave and I we — we decided it was time to take our relationship to the next level.” 

No. 

No.

No.

“ We’re getting married. “

“ No. “ I say, as if my opinion matters to anyone here. “ Mom, you can’t. You can’t do this. Mom “ 

I beg and I plead and I can feel the tears rising, hardly able to keep them at bay. I feel so small, so helpless.

“ We can and we will ! We’ve also talked about you … “ Dave starts and by the satisfied smirk on his face I can tell whatever he’s about to say, I won’t like it.

“ We had a long discussion about you and your behavior. The skipping school, the parties, the boys. It needs to stop. You need to learn some responsibility. Some respect. “ 

“ Mom. “ I try to meet her eyes, try to get her attention. This can’t be happening. 

“ It’s for the best, baby. “ 

“ What is ? “ 

Dave takes over the conversation again. God I wish he would just disappear. Vanish into nothingness. Where he belongs. “ We think the city is no good place for a young woman to grow up. Too many distractions. Too many temptations. How could you ever become a proper wife growing up in this place. “

“ Are you saying you want to send me away ? “ 

Mom looks up at me finally, and I can see the pain in eyes. And for the first time, I am glad. I hope she’s hurting. I hope it rips her heart out. I hope she feels the same pain she did when dad died. Because this, this is on her. This is a conscious choice she makes. For herself. For me. For our family.

I hope it hurts her because it kills me.

“ I uh — I talked to Susan. You remember her, right ? My half-sister. She uh — she lives in this cute little town in Indiana. Lots of nature. It’s very picturesque she says. They have a house there, she and her husband and the kids. Her step son is your age. I think — I think It’d do you some good. Susan says he’s calmed down his temper since they moved. Maybe it will work for you. “ 

I want to say so much. I want to scream and cry and throw a tantrum but the pain I feel numbs me to my bones. It’s like all energy is sucked right out of me. I’m too exhausted to react. Too exhausted to fight back.

So I do what I do best. I run. Take my keys, my jacket, my bag. And I run out into the night. The snow. The cold.

Whatever is out there isn’t half as harsh as what’s waiting for me in this place.

I know I have to go back eventually but for now I need to get out and save myself from drowning in my own despair. In the picture of a family that is no family at all and the memories of what used to be.

As I walk down the street I pass a park. There’s a concert going on. A choir sings “ Have yourself a merry little christmas”.

I want to throw up. I do throw up, in the bin by the park bench. 

Merry fucking christmas, Kathleen. I’m sure it’ll be a great one.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light From now on your troubles will be out of sight”

Absolute bullshit, my dudes. Absolute bullshit.

#billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #tothestarsfic

[despairingvacation]

how am i supposed to keep on feeding you?

...kill people?

TW FOR: UNCANNY VALLEY, CANNIBALISM, AND SUICIDAL IDEATION.

A Spotlight shines down. A Lone Woman standing beneath it, wincing from the brightness of it. It’s blinding but not unbearable. More Spotlights go off, collectively illuminating the surrounding area. This place, this… Stage. It’s… “Home, nyasu?” There’s no mistaking the rickety surroundings and dilapidated buildings in the area. The common cat head motif and the uneven pavement. This was Tao’s Home. The Ghetto she helped to protect with Torakaka. From the sights to the smells, everything yelled that she was home free now. Her body, no her heart clamored for her to go running to see everyone. Torakaka, Chachakaka, The Kittens, Robo-Ky, Everyone… But something’s amiss. Even she can feel it. With an upturned nose, Tao makes her way to one of the buildings and knocks on the door only to raise a brow seeing it swing open so easily on the first knock. Empty… An empty house with nothing but abandoned furniture inside. The floor and chairs were covered in some strange, black, gooey substance, but otherwise the only thing amiss was the lack of other people within.

Some part of her, she can feel it in her gut, but it’s a sickening sense of anguish. Fear? Disappointment? She didn’t know or seem to care. Her Heart screams at her to sniff around and see what was wrong, but she leaves and advances towards the next house. She doesn’t knock this time, rather she lets herself inside. Same outcome. Empty, abandoned, black goo.

The Next house. Same thing.

The Next. The Same.

Next. More goo.

Finally, she arrives. It’s her house. Funny. She remembers the layout of these streets being more windy and twisted. It was all a straight shot this time. Either she’s too busy making her way around to care, or things got rearranged when she was away… Empty red eyes stare at the door, taking note of the crack in it. That’s unlike Tora. Normally she’d lock it once everyone was inside. Robo-Ky would forget every now and then but, they were usually diligent about it. Raising a palm to the doorknob, Taokaka can feel the fur on her bristle up. Something’s wrong. Terribly wrong. There’s danger. She’s sensed it since the first house, and yet she’s chosen to ignore it until now. The fact her fur was on end, her senses are crying out to her to turn back and try to escape, and her heart is screaming out for some semblance of help, of hope… She ignores it. Finally she pushes the door open…

…

…..

……

Nothing. Nothing’s here… No one is here. No Tora. No Robo. No one. However… The room looks darker than the rest of the houses. Unusually so. Even as the dim street light shines inside, it seems to just end right when the darkness begins…

Dark. Black. Inky… Was this Willie? Inkswald? ...She remembers now.

As if on cue, the stray black masses of goop snake their way out their respective houses and slither into Tao’s old home, snaking around her feet in the process. Run. She can’t. Blankly, she watches as the masses lump together, form something, merge into one. Then, a mask seems to manifest on the strange mass, right where it’s face should be… RUN. She stays still, watching it slink closer to her, bubbling up like foam to get a better look at her until it’s inches from her face.

“You… Yo ‘re that lit e pest t ats always n my wa … You’ e  ack.” Taokaka never understood what the hell it was saying. It was always choppy, and it’s choppiness only served to irritate her and press her into fighting it more usually. Now she just stands there. Listening. Watching. The undulating movements it makes, the squishing and slickness of its mass shifting while it towered over her… The smell. Taokaka HATED this thing… All it did was terrorize her friends and family, threaten their lives, hunt them. ...Eat them when it could. She never understood WHY it went out of it’s way to try and eat her and the others, but it was a determined creature… So determined that it succeeded once during one of her patrols…

“Goo , so g  d… Abs lut  y de ic  us!!! Khhh hyaya haaahy  a!! You w  ld m ke for a fit  ng de   rt~.” The black mass slinks backwards however, ready to fight back when she would strike it in retaliation, but it pauses. Waits. “You w  t fight b  k?? The Ul   ate N  ht at h? Why?”

“Tao… Still can’t understand mew, Squiggly... Tao never understood why mew try to eat us… mew just do. Tao’s just going to guess and say that the squiggly is asking why Tao’s not fighting mew now…” Air passes through her teeth, a drawn out hiss is heard. “Tao… Hates you… SO MUCH. But… Mew proved Tao right. Two proved Tao right… And even if he doesn’t believe it anymore, Osomyatsu is right. Nyo-one’s here for Tao anymore. Mew ate them all. Killed them all, nyasu. For a long time, Tao wanted to get out. To be free with everyone nyasu. Tao wanted to be the big hero and save everyone from the bad guys. Squiggly Rat and Inky Rabbit. Wait for Rabbit Voice to save us, nyasu… Tao’s tired of hoping… Tao’s so… Exhausted… JK should have stabbed Tao, nyasu…” She stares at her feet, drained of all hope. “JK should have stabbed her and made Tao’s code thingy go off… Instead, they made her hurt beardo. And since then… She hasn’t been able to stop thinking… What if Tao was dead… Chatty’s always saying we’re just ‘giving them what they want, nyasu…’ but… Tao’s caring less and less… Tao wants to be free.”

The ink-like creature slinks behind her, listening intently, intrigued. “De d?  Ou want to d e?”

“...Maybe a little… No. Tao’s just… She wants to be free… She freed Grey-Yellow and Curly-Q. So… Now it’s Tao’s turn… Right, nyasu?”

Guttural, chaotic, vicious laughter erupts from the black ooze. Oh, this was too perfect!!

“Lit e beast of wa  past. You’ve g ne an  fina  y broken. Gughhu ghy  AHGHAHAHA!!! No lo  er a tho n in my ide… I can f ee you… do ‘t worry...” Slowly, it’s body coils around her… And she allows it…

This is it… This is what she wants. She didn’t exactly expect ‘Squiggly’ of all things to do her in, but it is what it is… right? Silently, she begins to apologize… For everything she’s done. Everything that’s happening… To Penny, To Date, Grimnir, Jowd, Shintaro, Ahn, Spinel, Della, Osoma-

‘Well if you’re going to kick his ass, I’m gonna be right there next to you, alright? Who does he think he is, messing with us, right?’

What...

‘Before this trial starts I would like everyone to know that Tao-chan and I are officially dating.’

Wait…

‘If I can have fun with you around, it makes all this feel a little less shitty.’

No, Why… Why is this happening?

‘Ughhh. Well... if you want to be angry, you can be angry with me. I won’t tell a soul. I think I’m too tired to, anyway…’

‘Asking me to pick a favorite Tao is like asking me to pick my favorite flavor of ice cream.’

Was this really the right thing to do?!

‘I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone on purpose, not really. I... I’m sorry, Tao-chan.’

‘You're safe... I can't believe it... you're safe, you're okay…’

Tears run down her cheeks, they sting; they’re so hot.

‘I promise, we’ll both be safe and lucky and make it out of here together.’ The creature’s grip on her tightens…

‘I just... it’s so lonely in here…’

‘A present? For me? Really?’

‘Last one there picks up Grimnir’s dirty socks!’

‘I miss seeing your smile…’

‘Answer me this— what the hell am I going to do if I have to leave here without you?’

Enough!! Something erupts inside her, and she begins to fight. To try and squirm out of the black creatures grip. She fights… And fights… and Squirms. Only to be met with laughter. Sick, deafening laughter. It sounded less like ‘Squiggly’ and more like the rat… But it looked nothing like him…

“Now you squi m?? You t y to escape? Sec  d t oug  s?? Too l  g have I waited for this moment!!” It’s becoming more coherent now… “You’ve had your due a LONG TIME AGO, YOU DUMB CAT!! WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING NOW?! ISN’T THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?! AN ESCAPE?!” It… Was… But.. This wasn’t the way!! THIS WASN’T RIGHT!!! RIGHT?! She’s at war with herself. She wants to Stay alive. Does she? She wants to live. Does she? She has reason to!! ...She does. She was so blind to it even when it was in front of her… He’s right about everything!! She was poisoned right?! RIGHT?! She has to keep fighting!!

“We were almost RID of you the last trial!! HAHAH!! YOU PUT ON SUCH A GOOD SHOW TOO!! YOU ALMOST MADE EVERYONE LOSE!!! WHO EVEN DOES THAT TO HER ‘FRIENDS?!’” She Squirms, pushes kicks and fights. No avail. She’s exhausted herself. The Kaka with seemingly endless energy has been drained of it all from the end of the last trial… And it proceeded to weaken as time went on… “HONESTLY YOU MADE THE SHOW QUITE ENTERTAINING FOR A WHILE, But Even the brightest stars fade out!!! Now… Time to give you that Escape you wanted… And to have a little snack myself… I’m FAMISHED!!”

Wait... No... NONONO!!! THIS IS NOT WHAT SHE WANTED.

In her final moments, Taokaka’s ears fold back, the tears falling from her eyes. A Small toothy grin cracks through, and she whispers. “...good-bye, everyone...”

[Osomachuu wuvs Tao-chan too!]

“...Especially mew… O-”

In a garbled mess of gurgles, slurping and swallowing, ‘Arakune’ rises up from their spot, spits up Taokaka’s hoodie and begins cackling devilishly. The Former Ultimate Nightwatch was no more.

#dv 1.5: chapter five #dv 1.5: execution

[shions-songbirds]

I saw your tag about you okami and bnha au and would you mind telling the details? I saw the post and my heart skipped a beat, I just love them both so much!!

Oh!!!! You’re interested?? I can totally talk about it!! I don’t have to many details flushed out for it but I had two different ideas for it, so I’ll run through them both! 

This is going to be pretty long so strap in

Idea #1: They’re different brush gods, all forced to work together to try and stop the world from being consumed by darkness (that sounds like kingdom hearts), or, as I lovingly described it to my friend, “1 person learning all the brush techniques? No. It’s a conglomerate of brush bastards working together to save the world“ 

None of them are capable of learning any of the other brush techniques, they’ve been apart for far too long, and so instead, they have to band together. It’s a lot of team building and learning how they can make their powers work together to solve puzzles and make it through the dangerous terrains they’re traversing. Certain ones are more combat oriented, and thus, are usually the ones to take on whatever demons might approach them. 

Brush god assignments and idea number two under the cut

For all of them, their divine markings are present on their bodies exactly where they would be on their animal forms, and in similar fashion to the Oina, they all have a mask of their respective animal. All of them have a calligraphy brush they can materialize to use their respective brush technique should it be necessary. 

Amaterasu - Izuku - He only has sunrise, however he’s also set up with a reflector, Divine Retribution, just like Ammy is. Flowers follow him when he walks, and though sunrise isn’t good in combat on its own, he does know how to use it to his advantage. 

Yomigami - Momo - If anyone is going to be rejuvenation, it’s Momo. She can fix anything that has been broken, repair anything. Four orbs circle around her at all times, purple, green, red, and yellow in color, and a thick scroll is rolled up and tucked away at her side. 

Tachigami - Tenya - While he’d also be a good fit for Kazegami, bc horses and fast and all that, I kind of just wanted to give him a giant sword. There’s not much in depth reasoning for this other than the guy who wanted to commit a murder for revenge deserves a giant sword. He keeps a sheath at his side for seemingly a normal sized sword, and upon pulling the blade out, it becomes more buster sword sized. The tip of the blade is inked like the calligraphy brushes, allowing him to perform proper power slashes alongside utilizing the strength and sharpness of the blade itself.

Hanagami - ???, Tsuyu, Hanta - I am genuinely at a loss about who should represent bloom, however I do have lily pad and vine down. Now, I know Shiozaki would be an incredible match for vine for obvious reasons, instead I went with Hanta, as his tape translates nicely into vines, and he deserves more love. Tsu should be fairly obvious, frogs and lilypads, so it just made sense to make her the lilypad brush god. Each of the three, whoever their missing link is, has an instrument on them at all times. Tsu has a shinobue, and Hanta a pair of cymbals. 

Bakugami (this one should be obvious) - Katsuki - Again, this should be obvious. The god with cherry bombs? Only fitting for this explosive boy. He can roll around on a giant cherry bomb, should he so choose, and his mask has a pair of proper tusks sticking out of it, although it’s usually not on his face, rather settled in his hair. 

Yumigami - Fumikage - Considering Dark Shadow, it only made sense to make him the god of the moon. Carried with him is a giant mochi mallet, and though he’s not the best equipped for combat, he’s resourceful, and his ability to control the night is vital. 

Nuregami - ??? - I was at a complete loss for this one. If anyone has any suggestions for her, a snake and goddess of water, please tell me!

Kazegami - Inasa - This one was a perfect match, considering Inasa’s quirk being wind. He keeps a battle fan with him, and can control the winds to his every whim. A gentle gust follows him wherever he goes.

Moegami/Itegami - Shouto - No one knows how this boy got two brush techniques, least of all him, but he bears the power of the ox and the power of the phoenix. He wears the ox mask out of personal preference, but he does have the phoenix mask with him. Though a split design would be optimal, I struggle to think of how this would work. Unlike the others, he does get an animal asset, in the form of massive, flaming, red and white wings. However they’re not always around, only manifesting in a blaze when he needs them, or is utilizing inferno. He has a smoking pipe he doesn’t often use and conch horn on him, attached to his waist by a light blue and white belt. His ice is at it’s full power upon him joining up with the others, but his fire is weakened, requiring him to have another source to derive it from, until Izuku gives him the push he needs to get it back. 

Kasugami - ??? - Midnight’s quirk would be perfect for this, but on account of me trying to limit it to the children, I have no other ideas. 

Kabegami - Ochako - The ability to defy gravity and walk up walls? A perfect fit for her. While most useful for navigating around, it would be impossible for the others to get to where they need to go without her catwalk ability. Like Shouto, she has a cat feature, a long fluffy tail, which serves as her brush and as a means of helping her to balance. 

Gekigami - Denki - With a set of lighting arrows in a quiver at his back and a bow always on hand, he can strike that which he sees fit. One of the most dangerous and combat oriented abilities, he has infinite electrical energy for as much as he has ink, which allows for dangerous lightning storms. His lightning arrows are as infinite as his ink, and when equipped with his tiger mask, he’s rather intimidating. He has the most celestial markings of any of them, running in stripes along his skin. 

That’s all I’ve got right now, mostly just ideas and character designs, but I think for the most part this would follow the canon plot, just with them travelling in a group rather than all together as Ammy. 

Idea #2 is a bit different, and a bit more true to Okami form. Or, rather, Okamiden, as Izuku fills in as Chibiterasu. 

All I really have is everyone’s species and like, general backstory, if I know it.

Inko - Sun goddess. Amaterasu equivalent. Origin of all that is good. She’s done her time, she’s served the people, and she’s fixed the celestial plane. She. Is. Tired. All she wants is a break, and she decides the best way to get that is to head to earth once things are fixed and settle down by Kamiki, where she has her son. She sells her artwork, often with help from Izuku.

Izuku - Baby god. Chibi equivalent. He grew up in a small house in Shinshu field near but not close to Kamiki village. He found Katsuki when he was younger and the two have stuck near each other since. He has no idea what his godly status actually means, but his mom has worked with him since he was little on practicing his brush strokes, even if he can’t use them yet. Unlike his mother’s ink, he’s uses charcoal, still a child in terms of powers, though a teen in body.

Shouto - Oina, lost to Yoshpet when he was a child. He survived the treacherous cold and winding paths of the forest, and though he could ask the citizens of Ponc’Tan to escort him out, he isn’t inclined to leave. He spends much of his time in the clearing Ponc’Tan is in, though, and often hangs out with Hanta and Denki. His dog form is a red husky, and his mask is a phoenix.

Katsuki - Oina, however much like Shouto, he doesn’t live with the tribe. He left fairly young, escaping through the path to Shinshu field, where he found Izuku. He attached himself to him, convinced that Izuku would get himself killed if he wasn’t around. He is unaware of Izuku’s godly status. He’s always in dog form, so Izuku isn’t aware that his dog isn’t merely a dog. He and Shouto were close when they were kids.He wears no mask, having thrown it aside upon leaving the tribe. 

Ochako- Sparrow clan. Used to only meeting those of the purest hearts but also all too familiar with financial hardships as a result, as her family hardly makes enough to even keep the inn open with their limited visitors. She recently left the inn in search of something to help keep her family better off.

Tsuyu - Dragonian.

Mina - Dragonian.

Hanta - Poncle. One of Shouto’s closest friends, and the one that initially found him in Yoshpet. He wanted to bring him back to the tribe when he recovered, but he refused, and so instead, he often spends any time he’s not within Ponc’tan busy with lessons with Shouto. 

Denki - Poncle. Another of Shouto’s closest friends. He takes his art training very seriously, but when it’s him, Hanta, and Shouto, the three of them tend to get up to quite a bit of mischief. They often tag along on Shouto through the forest, knowing that he can get them back to Ponc’tan with minimal effort with how well he knows the forest. 

Eijirou - Human.

Hitoshi - Moon Tribe.

Tenya - Human.

Fumikage - Sparrow clan.

Mashirao - Oina.

Yuuga - Moon Tribe.

Kyouka - Human.

Momo - Human.

Neito - Oina.

Getting things all figured out for this idea takes a fair bit more work and since I haven’t talked it through much, it never got very far. So that’s about everything I have. I adore this au, both parts of it, so if anyone has any ideas feel free to send in asks or ideas! I’d love to hear your thoughts.

And I hope this is kind of what you wanted anon! If not, well, please tell me!!

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #okami #okami x bnha #bnha au #bnha #mha #todoroki shouto #katsuki bakugou #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #kaminari denki #tokoyami fumikage #yaoyorozu momo #yoarashi inasa #iida tenya #tsuyu asui #sero hanta #okay that's all i'm going to tag because they're for the most part the only ones that get any actual focus in this #my writing #my aus #au #this took me awhile to put together but i was so excited #even if most people probably don't really care heh #long post #im sorry i don't know why the read more isn't appearing on mobile #usually it works fine but not this time i suppose

[ineffably-good]

Changes (1/3)

Read it on AO3

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale decide they better let their pet snake, Frederick, see them in their true forms before he finds out by surprise.

___

“Did you know,” Crowley said one day, looking up from his phone as they sprawled on the couch with their legs entwined, “that king snakes are named that because they tend to kill and eat other snakes?”

Aziraphale looked up from his book and wrinkled his nose. “Well that’s unsettling,” he said.

“Also they have the strongest constrictor strength of any snake.” Crowley read from his screen. “Really? Huh. That’s how they do it – they squeeze so hard they can stop the heart of something much bigger than them. Here, look at this video of a king snake just up and eating a snake twice its size.”

He held the screen out so the angel could see it, but Aziraphale frowned in distaste and pushed it away, not liking to think about his friendly little pet that way.

“Why exactly are you sharing this information?” he asked, confused.

Crowley looked thoughtful. “It’s just – I was wondering what would happen if Frederick saw me in my snake form.”

Aziraphale peered at him over the top of his glasses. “Well, he’d hardly be able to eat you.”

“No, I know that. I just wonder if he’d be frightened or if it would be okay.” He thought for a minute. “We should probably introduce him to that side of me at some point, so we don’t scare him half to death if he ever comes across me, you know?”

Aziraphale put his book down. “You might have a point. He’s bound to find you sometime in snake form, with winter coming up and the shop getting colder.” Crowley was inclined to spend more time in snake form in the winter, as it was just easier to conserve body heat when he could curl up in a tight ball near a heat source. He also tended to revert to snake form whenever he was especially confounded, cross, overly tired, or being asked to share his feelings at moments when he didn’t want to. Aziraphale found these reactions, in sequence, endearing, irritating, adorable, and infuriating.

“He hasn’t seen either of us with wings, either,” Crowley pointed out, interrupting the angel’s line of thought. “Could be in for a series of surprises, our young Frederick.”

“All right, I’ll think it over,” Aziraphale said. “We need to proceed carefully but you’re probably right that we need to do something about this soon.”

Read it on AO3 or click below!

Aziraphale began trying to lay the ground work with Frederick. He presented him with a carefully-pulled feather from one of his wings, one day. The snake flickered his tongue and scented it with some interest for a moment, then tried to eat it. He swallowed it down, laid still for a moment, and then vomited it back up with a sound that sound like *hrgk*.

THANKS SO MUCH FOR THAT, Frederick thought grumpily at Aziraphale. The snake glared balefully at him for a moment, then tunneled under his bedding material.

“That could have gone better,” Aziraphale muttered.

They tried again later with one of Crowley’s feathers, a black secondary one he'd saved from a molt. Frederick, now suspicious of feather-shaped objects, scented it from further away and then crawled into his cardboard tube, watching it suspiciously. He’d learned that these things had a mind of their own, even if they smelled comfortingly of his two large pets.

“He’s not getting the idea,” Crowley said. “We’re just going to have to show him.”

++

The next time, they pulled out the glass vivarium and placed it, with Frederick tucked securely inside, on the middle of the office desk.

Crowley sat at the desk chair next to him and tapped the glass a little to get Frederick’s attention. “Are you ready? You need to watch now,” he said quietly, laying one hand in front of the glass case in a manner he hoped was comforting. “Watch Aziraphale.”

WHAT NOW? Frederick moaned, irritated at yet another interruption to his nap schedule.

He unwillingly lifted his head and pinned both the pointy and the fluffy creature with his disapproving gaze, then prepared to go back to sleep. He had almost succeeded in resettling when suddenly, he picked up on a strange shift in the air of the room, almost like an electric current, and the background of the room behind his large, fluffy friend shimmered briefly as Aziraphale concentrated on manifesting his wings into the physical plane.

With a sudden pop, there they were. Glorious, huge, alabaster wings, held carefully behind him in a nonthreatening stance. Aziraphale watched as Frederick, who was most definitely paying attention now, uncoiled slowly and moved as far away to the other side of the glass container as he could.

“Frederick,” Aziraphale said, moving slowly to come kneel before the container. “It’s still me. I’m an angel, that’s all. Not a bird of prey.”

Frederick hissed quietly and looked unconvinced. What in the blazes is an angel, he thought to himself. His limited experience of the world had contained no mention of this concept.

“Let’s try just hanging about for a bit with your wings out,” Crowley said. “Maybe he’ll get used to it and you can take him out for a closer look.”

Frederick watched the two of them walk into the kitchen area to make tea, and he pondered. He’d always known there was something strange about these two – there had always been a hint of feathers in both of their scent profiles, and he’d never been quite sure why. So, his lovely, kind owner was actually a gigantic bird? Or part bird? Either way, if there was one thing a snake of his size knew it was that he was no match for an avian of that size, and he was not at all sure that he liked this development.

In Frederick’s world, there were two truths: large snakes ate small birds, and large birds ate small snakes. End of story. Period. Finito. And yet, he couldn’t find it quite in himself to be afraid of his owner. He’d always been so kind.  

The dark one came back a while later and reached in to pull him out of his container. Frederick hissed dramatically and made his displeasure known, but ultimately allowed it. He took him over to the table where Aziraphale was sitting and, holding the snake carefully, let him take a good look at the wings and scent them to his heart's content.

Aziraphale concentrated on radiating as much love and peace as he could at the little creature, and soon enough the snake uncoiled a little and accepted a few pets from his owner.

HEY YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON’T LIKE IT. Frederick thought at them both, but as it didn’t seem like Aziraphale was inclined to eat him, he supposed he could get used to it.

He was, they all noted, much happier when Aziraphale put his wings away.

“Better not let him see you in your true form any time soon,” Crowley murmured that night. “Four wings and all those eyes? You’ll give the poor little guy nightmares.”

“Indeed,” Aziraphale agreed. “That can probably be avoided, for the most part.”

++

Frederick the snake was having a very nice autumn, thank you very much. Things had been very calm for the last few months since he’d pulled his disappearing act and startled the two supposed grownups into slightly better behavior, and to their credit they’d been much less prone to idiocy lately. Frederick had watched approvingly from his perch nearby as they exchanged rings and acted ridiculously sappy about the whole thing. He didn't understand what the fuss about a couple lumps of metal was all about, but in general he thought anything that made the two of them less likely to bicker was worth encouraging. And when they were feeling sappy, they tended to extend that pleasantness to Frederick through a surfeit of treats and long naps in the sun.

All in all, it had worked out rather well.

After Aziraphale’s reveal, Frederick noted that his fuzzy owner was taking care to spend a bit more time with him, which was nice. Aziraphale had always been the warmest body in the house, and although he loved his heating pad, nothing really beat curling up with the fuzzy one for keeping a snake loose and happy. He basked in the attention and tried not to think any further about his pet’s dual nature. Some things were best ignored.

It was, he thought, the most sensible approach.

++

A few days later, they decided it was Crowley’s turn to reveal his wings. Aziraphale sat on the couch with Frederick curled up in his lap, stroking the snake gently while he mostly napped. “Frederick, wake up pay attention now,” Aziraphale said, booping him gently on the nose to wake him up. "Crowley needs to show you something."

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE, WHAT DO YOU TWO WANT THIS TIME? Frederick thought at them. Frederick had for several months now been listening closely to the pointy one and was picking up on quite a wide variety of curse words, which he practiced assiduously at night while his companions slept. He was rather proud of how well he was doing with them.

Crowley got a strange look on his face for just a second. "Did you hear something?" he asked Aziraphale.

"No," the angel said, looking at him levelly. "You all right, there?"

Crowley nodded his assent and got back to the task at hand. He frowned in concentration, while the angel made sure Frederick was watching.

There was a whoomp sound of displaced air and, suddenly, the pointy one was unfolding large, black wings behind him.

HE’S A CROW??? Frederick shrieked. OH THAT EXPLAINS *SO* MANY THINGS.

Crows, he thought with the inborn knowledge of all snake-kind, were nothing any intelligent snake tried to eat. They were smart and ruthless fighters, loyal in a way that caused their loved ones to band together to help them if they were under attack, and lived to cause trouble. They cackled with their own twisted sense of humor that no one else could really understand, and they were messy and annoying.  

That seemed about right, he thought, for what he knew of the pointy one.

Also, luckily, they tended not to hunt snakes.

Frederick eyed Crowley with a sense of grudging respect, and nodded his head a little in acceptance. Better a crow, who, yes, was crazy but was predictable crazy, then a big giant seagull. No one could tell what a seagull might do next.

FINE, he thought at them both, beyond annoyed. I CAN DEAL WITH THIS. REALLY GLAD THIS IS ALL OUT IN THE OPEN. CAN WE STOP WITH THE BIG REVEALS NOW? ANYONE WANT TO TURN INTO A FREAKING LAMPSHADE OR ANYTHING?

“He’s doing good, I think,” Crowley said. “Let’s show him the rest.”

“Okay, Frederick,” Aziraphale said, “there’s more. Crowley can change into something else, too.”

Frederick sighed dramatically, but looked up, interested in spite of himself. He watched, transfixed, as the big, feathered, Crowley-adjacent thing in front of him slowly morphed and dropped to the floor and became the absolutely biggest  snake he had ever seen in his life.

Frederick’s entire brain short circuited and he did what any sensible snake would do faced with such an enormous threat – he went limp and played dead.

#good omens #good omens fics #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #aziraphale x crowley #snek fiction #frederick the snake #my fics #changes #time to face the strange #domestic moments at home #serpent and the seagull series #serpent and the seagull

[rattmemes]

Beetlejuice: the Musical OBCR Starters! ACT 1

((>>act 2<<))

all changeable titles/pronouns will be in [italics and bracket!]

PROLOGUE: INVISIBLE

“ in times like these, we have no words, we only have each other ” “ we only have each other ” “ today we come together to mourn ” “ scripture tells us: “sorrow not, for we do not walk alone” ” “ sorrow not, for we do not walk alone ” “ you’re invisible when you’re sad ” “ clocks tick and phones still ring ” “ the world carries on like mad ” “ the world carries on like mad, but nobody sees a thing ” “ nobody sees a thing ” “ whispering behind their hands, lost for kind words to say ” “ nobody understands, and everyone goes away ” “ nobody understands ” “ everyone goes away ” “ grownups wanna fix things, when they can’t it only fills them shame ” “ they just look away ” “ is it being greedy to need somebody to see me and say my name? ” “ seems when you lose your [mom], no one turns off the sun ” “ folks carry on, that’s that ” “ holy crap, a ballad already? ” “ such a bold departure from the original source material! ”

THE WHOLE BEING DEAD THING

“ hey folks! begging your pardon! ” “ hey folks! ” “ begging your pardon! ” “ ‘scuse me! sorry to barge in! ” “ ‘scuse me! ” “ sorry to barge in! ” “ let’s skip the tears ” “ let’s skip the tears and start on the whole, y’know, being dead thing ” “ you’re doomed! ” “ you’re doomed! enjoy the singing ” “ the sword of Damocles is swinging ” “ if i hear your cell-phone ringing, i’ll kill you myself ” “ the whole being dead thing! ” “ death can get a person stressed ” “ we should have carpe’d way more diems, now we’re never gonna see ‘em ” “ we should have carpe’d way more diems ” “ i can show you what comes next ” “ don’t be freaked ” “ stay in your seats ” “ don’t be freaked, stay in your seats ” “ i do this bullshit like eight times a week ” “ so just relax, you’ll be fine ” “ drink your fifty-dollar wine and take a breath ” “ welcome to a show about death! ” “ you’re gonna be fine on the other side ” “ DIE! YOU’RE ALL GONNA DIE! YOU’RE ALL GONNA DIE! ” “ i’ll be your guide to the other side ” “ oh, and full disclosure: it’s a show about death! ” “ everybody gets on fine here ” “ everybody gets on fine here, like Rodgers, Hart, and Hammerstein here ” “ the women’s bathroom has no line here ” “ just... pee where you want! ” “ you’re just gonna love the folks here ” “ yes, i know you’re woke, but you can take a joke here ” “ i do, like, a TON of coke here ” “ nobody is bullet-proof ” “ “i work out! i eat clean!” jesus, pass the Dramamine ” “ jesus, pass the Dramamine ” “ time to face the brutal truth ” “ we’re all on a hitlist ” “ might not live ‘till christmas ” “ choke to death on Triscuits ” “ hey, that’s just statistics ” “ take a little break here ” “ kinda like a wake here ” “ the scenery is fake here ” “ there’s a giant snake here! ” “ how you doin’? not good! ” “ seriously though, this is a show about death ” “ death is taboo, but it’s hardly something new ” “ there’s nothing medical professionals could do, ‘cept maybe just bill you ” “ if you die while listening to this album, it’s still gonna keep playing ” “ there’s no destiny or fate, just a terrifying wait filled with people that you hate, and on a certain date, the universe kills you ” “ that’s the thing with life: no one makes it out alive ” “ toss that body in the pit ” “ gosh, it’s awful, ain’t it tragic? ” “ blah blah bible jesus magic ” “ when you’re dead, who gives a shit? ” “ pilates, no more yoga ” “ namaste, you fuckin’ posers! ” “ from the cradle to cremation, death just needs a little conversation ” “ i have mastered the art of tearing convention apart ” “ how about we all make a start on the whole being dead thing ” “ god, i hope you’re ready for a show about death! ”

READY, SET, NOT YET

“ look at this crib ” “ look at this crib, in all of it’s glorious antiquary ” “ every curve and surface speaks to me, saying pamper and spoil me, sand me and oil me; come on ” “ i know to the untrained eye it’s boring ” “ nothing’s a chore when you’re restoring ” “ apart from frustration, pain, and financial drain, it’s fun! ” “ why do you polish your crib when you don’t have a kid? ” “ even if you did have a kid, this crib is too precious for placing a baby inside it ” “ it simply exists to remind you your sense of perfection is just a reflection that you are not mentally prepared to make room for a kid ” “ why don’t you live? ” “ just make a start ” “ are you willing to take the next step? ” “ ready, set - ” “ look at these jugs! ” “ amazingly glazed and terracotta-ery ” “ i took some clay and made you pottery ” “ the world will never wreck you, i’ll protect you in a mother’s embrace ” “ why can’t you see that ceramics is simply a manifestation of [motherly] panic; by making a baby that’s breakable aren’t you creating a way of translating the terror of making [maternal] mistakes into clay, hiding away so you don’t have to face being a bad [mom]? ” “ that’s what you’ve done, ___ ” “ here we stand at the end of a 10-year plan ” “ a house, a yard, a minivan, a baby should be next ” “ together let’s leap off the cliff, fall forever, then smash to bits ” “ trapped in a terrifying viper pit ” “ trapped in a terrifying viper pit of diapers and regret ” “ are we willing to take the next step? ” “ ready, set - not yet ” “ why rush? ” “ soon enough our hopes and our dreams will be crushed ” “ but not yet ” “ not now ” “ we can’t start a family in a house with creaky floorboards ” “ you are absolutely right, let’s add it to the list ” “ with the cracks in the plaster ” “ the wi-fi should be faster ” “ this sofa needs a castor ” “ the bathroom’s a disaster! ” “ what about global poverty? ” “ what about world peace? ” “ then there’s the whole darn economy ” “ the whole middle east ” “ we should learn mandarin ” “ yeah! or spanish at least ” “ no habla espanol, dos cervezas por favor ” “ and that’s all we got, and that’s not a lot ” “ do we want a bilingual household or not? ” “ so let’s go slow, no breaking a sweat ” “ what’s the point of having children if we’re drowning in debt? ” “ see, i wasn’t kidding, it’s a show about death! ”

THE WHOLE BEING DEAD THING PT. 2

“ ready? okay! ” “ hi! i’ll be your guide! i’ll be your G-U-I-D-E to the other side! ” “ don’t go to the netherworld ” “ netherworld? ” “ did i say netherworld? never mind ” “ jesus, i can’t spell ” “ he’ll be your guide! ” “ let’s all get naked! ” “ let’s all get naked! eh, worth a try ” “ what is happening?! ” “ i understand that it’s a lot to process ” “ the good news is you and our spouse died in your own house ” “ that gives you clout ” “ that means the two of you should stick around ” “ lucky for you i dropped by ” “ yeah, you seem like nice guys ” “ a little on the pottery barn and dry white wine side ” “ as for me, i’ve been scaring for millennia ” “ i’m the bio-exorcist giving houses enemas ” “ push out all the breathers so you can breathe easy ” “ just stick with me ” “ i’m like a ghost zombie jesus ” “ ghost zombie jesus! ” “ i do it for the love of it. money? ah, who gives a shit ” “ i think we’re a perfect fit, c’mon let’s make out a bit ” “ it’s the perfect day to die ” “ it’s the perfect day to die, ‘cause this guy happened to be passing by ” “ to give you control of your soul ” “ to give you control of your soul for the whole being dead thing ”

DEAD MOM

“ hey [mom], dead [mom] ” “ hey [mom] ” “ i need a little help here ” “ i’m probably talking to myself here ” “ i gotta ask, are you really in the ground? ” “ i feel you all around me ” “ are you here? ” “ i’m tired of trying to iron out my creases ” “ i’m a bunch of broken pieces, it was you who made me whole ” “ i’m a bunch of broken pieces ” “ it was you who made me whole ” “ every day [dad’s] staring at me, like all “hurry up, get happy” ” “ move along ” “ forget about your [mom] ” “ [daddy’s] in denial, [daddy] doesn’t wanna feel ” “ [he] wants me to smile and clap like a performing seal ” “ ignored it for a whole, but [daddy’s] lost [his] mind for real ” “ you don’t believe the mess that we’ve become ” “ you’re my home, my destination ” “ i’m your clone, your strange creation ” “ you held my hand, and life came easy ” “ now jokes don’t land ” “ no one sees me ” “ nothing seems to fit ” “ are you receiving? ” “ i want something to believe in ” “ take me where my soul can run ” “ i’ll be in my bedroom, wake me when i’m twenty one ” “ won’t you send a sign? ” “ i’m running out of hope and time ” “ a plague of mice, a lightning strike, or drop a nuclear bomb ” “ no more playing [daddy’s] games ” “ i’ll go insane if things don’t change ” “ whatever it takes to make [him] say your name ”

FRIGHT OF THEIR LIVES

“ okay, listen up, i’m not gonna lie; right now you couldn’t frighten a fly ” “ you ever stop to ask yourselves why? ” “ both of you are super polite, middle class, suburban, and white ” “ well, all of that is finished tonight ” “ take your places ” “ i want scary faces, now go! ” “ bigger! ” “ further! ” “ harder! ” “ not bad! ” “ i want scary faces, now go! bigger! further! harder! -- not bad! ” “ sever a head, preferably someone you know ” “ look at me, i’m so scary! ” “ don’t be so vanilla, would a little anger kill ya? ” “ c’mon drop your panties i’m trying to fill you -- with wisdom and skill ” “ and the instinct to kill ” “ again, we do not want to kill anyone! ” “ fine, but somehow, someway, you gotta make ‘em see ya ” “ i’m talkin’ jumpscares, the jerky japanese ghost-walk ” “ learn how to throw your voice! -- fool your friends! -- fun at parties! ” “ now THAT is cool! i wanna do THAT! ” “ whatever it takes to make ‘em go crazy ” “ raising the stakes by punching a baby ” “ scare ‘em away till they break ” “ they’ll be quaking in fright ” “ you’ve got some evil deep down inside you ” “ put all the farmer’s markets behind you ” “ you’ve gotta work, gotta haunt till it hurts through the night ” “ give those guys the fright of their lives! ” “ let’s start with things that you hate ” “ hate’s a very strong word ” “ perhaps when people are late ” “ or getting pooped on by birds ” “ no, what fills you with rage? ” “ what fills you with rage? ” “ being mean to a pet ” “ chefs who use too much sage when they make beurre noisette ” “ over-glutinous food ” “ when kids call me dude ” “ oh, i find that so rude! ” “ well, there’s lots there to use ” “ take a deep death and give me your best primal scream ” “ [weak, lame scream] ” “ that was brilliant! ” “ try it again, maybe this time pretend like you mean it ” “ [lame scream but deeper] ” “ that was even better! ” “ i want freedom ” “ to get my freedom i need to get a living person to say my name ” “ i know that beggars can’t be choosers, but do they have to be such losers? ” “ both of them are deathly dull and lame ” “ why God slash Satan did you send these bed wetters? ” “ even, like, a tax attorney would’ve been better ” “ somebody with gravitas, somebody to fear ” “ excuse me, ___, we can kinda hear you ” “ yeah? well that was a soliloquy, so you’re the one who’s being rude ” “ turn all the lights on ” “ dress like a baby ” “ ___, i don’t even -- no. ” “ get your heads in the game ” “ let’s hide their phones! ” “ screw their phones! ” “ ugh, these dopes are hopeless ” “ how will i ever survive? ” “ unless they get the fright of their lives ” “ yes, we’re feelin’ it! ” “ they gotta get the right of their lives ” “ we’re scary, very very scary! ” “ they’ll never get the fright of their lives ”

READY, SET (REPRISE)

“ that needy pervert was right ” “ if we want our house back, we have to fight for it ” “ how? no one can see us! ” “ we’re ghosts, damn it! let’s haunt this bitch! ” “ oblivion calls ” “ we might as well walk through some walls ” “ i’m sure we can haunt our own halls ” “ we’re ready as we’ll ever get ” “ i gotta get right outside my comfort zone ” “ we’ll rattle chains and, i don’t know, just wail and moan until they go ” “ ready, set let’s oooOOOoOooOooOo [ghost noises] ”

NO REASON

“ the universe is more than just space with no end ” [sung] “ la-la-la-la-la! ” “ just think of the universe as a female best friend ” “ hey, universe, what’s happening girl? ” “ oh nothing. just running the world ” “ you’re on the right track, [girl], i got your back, [girl] ” “ i’m helping you grow ” “ think positive, act positive, you are a child of the Earth! ” “ life coaching! nailing it! ” “ time to take command you dictate the hand the universe deals ” “ look, science makes no sense; who needs evidence? ” “ go with yours feels ” “ i’m like a radio tuned to the stars ” “ i found my frequency, crystals speak to me ” “ what are they saying? ” “ buy more crystals ” “ everything, EVERYTHING, happens for a reason ” “ be a beacon of light in the world, put a little alright in the world ” “ there are spiritual guides above, look up and see ‘em ” “ perception is reality ” “ just listen to the melody the universe sings ” “ everything happens for a reason ” “ gee, i hate to break it to you: the universe is just the contents of time, matter and space ” “ ninety-one billion light-years across and the Earth’s a small place ” “ good people die in famine and wars ” “ the pacific islands are sinking, but negative thinking is hardly the cause ” “ you think life is all unicorns and rainbows ‘cause you’re bored ” “ positivity is a luxury that few can afford ” “ we’re gonna die, yes you and I, in meaningless and alone ” “ no no no! no! ” “ one day you may wake up alone ” “ your husband and his boyfriend bought a boat and then they sailed away to Rome ” “ that’s specific ” “ so you cry yourself to sleep in deep despair, talking to the walls ‘cause there’s no one there, and you have to buy a cat ‘cause that’s your last chance to have a family ” “ take it from me, your aging ass will have to believe that everything happens for a reason ” “ put some more fun in the world, a little “I AM STILL YOUNG” in the world ” “ be prepared to take your eggs and freeze ‘em ” “ is this still about me? ” “ sounds like terrible things can happen ” “ because the universe is random ” “ yes, but, random for a reason ” “ no reason ”

INVISIBLE (REPRISE)/ON THE ROOF

“ you’re invisible when you’re me ” “ there’s no one to see my truth ” “ if they could look up they’d see: hey! somebody’s on the roof! ” “ god, it’s mortifying, what’s the point of even trying? ” “ now i’m trapped with no escape ” “ banished! disavowed! i vanished like a cloud of dirty hipster vape ” “ i vanished like a cloud of dirty hipster vape ” “ nobody said life’s fair ” “ guess they will never see the demon who isn’t there ” “ whoa, what have we got here? ” “ by the time you read this, I, ___, will be gone ” “ there’s nothing for me here ” “ i’m alone, forsaken, invisible ” “ that makes two of us ” “ who the hell are you? ” “ can you... see me? ” “ yeah...? ” “ you can SEE me! ” “ I’M GONNA HAVE A NEW BEST FRIIIIIIEEEENND! ”

SAY MY NAME

“ you could use a buddy ” “ don’t you want a pal? ” “ yes i do! yes i do! ” “ the way i see, your [daddy] should be leaving and you should stick around! ” “ and kill him! ” “ ... what? ” “ nothing! ” “ don’t end yourself, defend yourself ” “ [daddy] is the one you should maim ” “ together we’ll exterminate, assassinate! ” “ the finer points can wait ” “ first you gotta say my name! ” “ go ahead and jump but that won’t stop [him] ” “ here you got a solid plan B option ” “ i can bring your [daddy] so much pain ” “ all you gotta do is say my name ” “ just say it three times in a row ” “ you won’t believe how far i’ll go ” “ i’m in the bench, but coah, just put me in the game! ” “ i don’t know your name ” “ well, i can’t SAY it ” “ how ‘bout a game of charades? ” “ yes, let’s play it! ” “ close, but no ” “ wow, i’m impressed ” “ all you gotta do is say my name three times ” “ three times in a row it must be spoken, unbroken ” “ you’re so smart, a stand-up bro ” “ i’ll think about your offer, let you know ” “ i prefer my chances down below ” “ being young and [female] doesn’t mean that i’m an easy mark ” “ i’ve been swimming with piranhas, i don’t need a shark ” “ yes, life sucks, but not that much ” “ be a doll and spare the lecture ” “ i’m offering you a full-time specter! ” “ are you any good? ” “ you bet’cha! trust me, baby! ” “ really, it’s a flattering offer ” “ don’t you wanna see [dad] suffer? ” “ i think i’d rather just jump off ” “ i may be suicidal but ___, it’s not as if i’ve lost my mind ” “ so, playing hardball, huh? you are tougher than you look ” “ just wanna make sure i know who i’m working with. go any references? ” “ ___, there you are! ” “ get away from [her] ! ” “ this is a dangerously unstable individual ” “ ___ is sexy! ” “ ___ is smart! ” “ ___ is a graduate of Julliard! ” “ [he] can help, we found [him] on yelp ” “ our troubles all ended on the day that we befriended ” “ every word is the truth ” “ what the heck was that? ” “ so violating! ” “ there you go, kid, couple of five-star reviews ” “ that was possession ” “ any ghost can do that in less than one lesson ” “ pretty much any ghost’ll do, sure ” “ then, ___, what do i need you for? ” “ woah, woah, woah woah woah! hold up! ” “ hold up! i’m your pal! ” “ they’re sweet, but i’m a demon straight from hell ” “ i know, i went a little hard on the sell ” “ we’re BF-F-F-F’s forever! ” “ what? he was already dead ” “ we don’t need that demon ” “ together we can make a grown man weep ” “ we got a dinner date to keep ” “ okay, so what’s the plan? ” “ [he’s] gonna freak when we possess him ” “ i’ll lead that lamb to slaughter ” “ yeah, i got game! ” “ i’m gonna make [him] say my name ” “ not running away ”

DAY-O (THE BANANA BOAT SONG)/ACT I FINALE

“ what’s going on ___? are you alright? ” “ i don’t -- i dont know what just happened ” “ ___? do you need to lie down? ” “ what is happening to me? ” “ work all night on a drink of rum ” “ daylight come and me wanna go home ” “ stack banana till the morning come ” “ wait, why aren’t you dancing? ” “ it’s like i told you, ___, this house is haunted, and the ghosts who live here want you OUT ” “ who wants bacon? ” “ no! no! i’m a vegan! ” “ shut up, you moron! don’t apologize, we’re gonna be RICH! ” “ a genuine haunted house? it’s a goldmine! ” “ these ghosts are gonna make us a fortune! ” “ no! you’re supposed to be scared! ” “ there’s one thing that can still stop [him] ” “ ___, no! you don’t know what’ll happen! ” “ i can’t keep living like this! ” “ oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! i’m so glad you changed your mind! ” “ you are never gonna regret this! ” “ we are gonna make such a great team! ” “ give me just... one... more... ” “ it’s SHOWTIME! ” “ it’s our house now, kid! ” “ looks like we’re not invisible anymore! ”

#Lyric Meme #lyric starters #lyric sentence meme #rp lyric meme #lyric sentence starters #rp meme #rp starters #rp #sentence meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #beetlejuice rp meme #beetlejuice sentence starters #beetlejuice lyric starters #Role play meme #role play starters #role play sentence meme #role play lyric starters

[theshadowspecter]

Nuisance

(Bloom: I feel that I should warn everyone that here on out there’s going to be character death in just about every chapter. Par for the course when you run this type of Snatcher blog. Nothing graphic at all, but it is mentioned. You’ve been warned!)

The ride over was quick and quiet...if you ignored the roar of the engine. As Subcon came into view, Abigail noted it's dark and foreboding appearance...seemed that blizzard had melted away, leaving damp dark decay in its wake. She cut the engine and the boat drifted until it bumped against the banks. They both climbed out and the Mafia man waited while she tied her boat up, before turning to take in her first view of Subcon.

To sum it up: it was eerie. The trees were dead, the only sound the quiet buzzing of distant bugs and the ocean waves. No sunlight came through as they started to venture in; instead dark purple clouds swirled above. Glancing back towards the boat Abigail could see the ocean under a clear blue mid-day sky. She looked back up at the dark sky over the forest, before reaching into her bag and pulling out a notebook and pencil, taking notes.

Something flickered out of the corner of her eye. Looking up she noticed a glow, like from a fire. She turned to her companion, “let's head in,” she ordered, pointing towards the glow. The Mafia man looked frightened for a moment before hiding it behind an angry facade, nodding and following her. She was grateful that most mafia were the quiet types; she could focus on her studies without worrying about keeping up a conversation.

The moment they lost sight of the ocean the forest seemed to swallow them up. It grew darker and gloomier. A thin veil of fog rolled across their feet, but the glow grew brighter.

It didn't take very long to reach an opening in the trees, where the glow, which actually was from a fire, was burning bright. Around the flames danced....what appeared to be foxes made of fire. Fire Spirits!, Abigail thought, quickly taking more notes. She had read about them in the older history books; apparently the spirits had been in Subcon even before the tragedy. The foxes ignored the newcomers, dancing around their fire. Abigail started to approach when the Mafia man let out a cry. She turned to find him staring at....something. It floated in the air, and looked like a snake wearing a mask. A Subcon mask! Abigail thought with amazement. It was something the young children of Subcon wore when they left the house to keep spirits from stealing them! Abigail was more fascinated by ghosts than she was scared., and was taking notes like a madwoman. She was about to reach for her camera when the mask wearing specter floated closer to the Mafia man, who quickly took off, running even further into the forest, a terrified “NOOOOOOOOO!” echoing in his wake. Stuffing her notebook back into her bag she took off after him; she couldn't be left alone out here!

Unfortunately the forest had other plans. As she ventured deeper in, more noises started to fill the silence. Crinkling leaves, a babbling brook, crows and the soft crackle of more fire masked the sound of the other's frantic footsteps. As she continued to run, the scenery started to change. Less trees sprang up, and there were more....man made objects about, though nooses and tombstones were not the most inviting things to look at. She even found a few structures that looked to be abandoned tree houses. She came to a stop to catch her breath and tried to listen again for the Mafia man. This forest was a lot bigger than she had initially thought, and she hoped for a sign from her companion to lead her in the right direction. The forest had grown quiet again and she strained her ears for any signs of life....which she quickly got in a distant scream that rent the still air. She knew it was from the Mafia man, and she quickly made haste in that direction, grabbing her army knife and flicking the switchblade open. She had hoped to avoid confrontation, but was prepared for it nonetheless.

The scream had stopped abruptly, yet she continued to run in the direction it came from. Her chest hurt, her legs burned. She wasn't out of shape, but strolling around Mafia Town was vastly different then sprinting through a forest. She ran up a hill, only to have the crest of it end at a steep, though thankfully short, drop off. With a small scream she slipped, dropping the knife and falling off. She lay there until the treetops stopped spinning, than sat up and took assessment of the damage. A small bruise on her arm, a rip in her jean and a scrape on her knee. Nothing broken, thank Cod. She got to her feet, dusting herself off and paused to take in her new surroundings. More of those nooses, some bushes and what looked like the remains of some stone structures. “This place is hauntingly beautiful” she said aloud, gazing up at the night sky, the stars twinkling between deep purple clouds.

“IT SURE IS.”

Her heart started to beat rapidly against her rib cage. She slowly turned her head to see a giant glowing, grinning shadow, who was projecting itself on a rocky outcropping. It's only features were its eyes and mouth, all of which glowed a bright yellow.

“I HAVEN'T SEEN A LIVING SOUL IN THESE WOODS FOR QUITE A LONG TIME! THERE USED TO BE SEARCH PARTIES FOR THOSE WHO GOT LOST. FOOD WAS PLENTIFUL BACK THEN. NOW, LOOK AT ME! A MERE SHADOW OF MY FORMER SELF!”

Composing herself from being startled, she retorted “People stopped coming because nobody ever came back. Speaking of, did you see a burly guy run through here?”

“I DID. HE TOOK ONE LOOK AT ME AND DIED OF FRIGHT! SAVED ME THE EFFORT OF KILLING HIM, AND PERFECT TIMING TOO! I WAS FAMISHED!

Abigail covered her mouth with her hand and proclaimed, in a terrified whisper, “you ate him?!”

“THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG! I DON'T EAT PEOPLE! THEIR SOULS, ON THE OTHER HAND,” and with that he held up his hand, and she could see a small whispy shadowy blob in his claws, “LIKE YOUR FRIEND'S HERE...”

She could only watch in horror as the shadow threw the soul in its mouth and swallowed it whole. He began to glow purple around his outline, and the girl continued to watch, frozen in terror, as this soul snatching demon literally pulled himself out of the wall. As he manifested, she realized just how tall he was as he towered over her.

“CERTAINLY NOT THE BEST I'VE EVER HAD, BUT IT GAVE ME ENOUGH STRENGTH TO REMATERIALIZE! NOW YOUR SOUL, -”

She turned to flee, only to run smack into a purple barrier that bubbled up around them. “TRYING TO RUN AWAY?!” The ghost's tone went dark as he swooped down to see her face-to-face. She met his gaze and visibly trembled. The specter's grin widened before he stood back up, towering over her again, and started to cackle maniacally,

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL! DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD ESCAPE MY FOREST!?”

Before he could continue, an impulsive thought struck Abigail, and the girl blurted out, “if you let me go, it'll prove that people CAN leave here alive! A-and then people might start coming back...” she trailed off, silently pleading for this to work...

The creature seemed to consider this, raising a claw to his chin, before suddenly snapping his talons. “SOUNDS LIKE A PRETTY GOOD DEAL! LET'S MAKE IT OFFICIAL!” He raised a hand and the barrier dissipated. Before she could even register that her plan had actually worked, a couple thorny vines shot up from the ground and wound themselves around her wrists, snapping off from their stems and effectively handcuffing her. The specter was already floating away, and the cuffs magically pulled her along behind. This wasn't what she had planned!

In a short while they came to a hollowed out tree, slightly furnished into what looked like a comfy sitting room. The ghoul entered, the handcuffed girl still being pulled along. “HAVE A SEAT, MAKING A NEW CONTRACT CAN TAKE AWHILE,” the ghost said, rifling through some papers on a nearby table.

She was still confused and frightened by all that had transpired in the short time since she arrived. She let the cuffs lead her to a footrest, while she tried to sort her thoughts: How had her plan backfired so badly?! All she had wanted was to investigate this place. Now she was at the mercy of a soul-hungry specter, and already someone had paid the ultimate price on her behalf!

She sat there, fidgeting for awhile. The stress of her situation was starting to finally take its toll on her, and the adrenaline was wearing off as she was realizing that if he had wanted her dead, she would already be. She curled up on the futon and closed her eyes to try and calm her mind down, focusing on the sounds of the strange crackling magical fire that lined the forest, and the scratching of pen on paper...

“WAKE UP!”

The soul snatcher screamed in her ear while pushing her off the footrest. The girl yelped as she fell, smacking her nose onto the floor. She sat up, rubbing it, the handcuffs gone since who knew when. She glared up at the spook, who only grinned mischievously back at her. “I HOPE YOU GOT YOUR BEAUTY REST, CAUSE IT'S TIME TO GET DOWN TO BUSINESS! WHILE YOU WERE SNOOZING AWAY I WAS BUSY WHIPPING UP A FRESH NEW CONTRACT! JUST FOR YOU!”

With that, a parchment of paper and quill pen floated over to her. She hesitantly grabbed hold of the paper, which stated that she had to bring someone else into Subcon forest by the end of the week. The only areas of the forest she would be allowed were within the firewalls, and at the bottom of the paper, it clearly stated that he would be taking her soul. Flipping it over she found more print, which apart from some legalities, told her this being's name was actually Snatcher, which seemed fitting.

Finding her voice, and just a touch of boldness, she looked up at him, “c-can we...make an alteration?” Snatcher's smile twitched, “I SUPPOSE ITS ABOUT THE 'TAKING YOUR SOUL THING, RIGHT?” She nodded, “TOO BAD, THAT'S HOW I WORK! NOW EITHER SIGN THE CONTRACT OR I'LL MAKE YOUR DEAD AND HOLLOWED BODY SIGN IT FOR YOU!”

She immediately grabbed the quill and scribbled her name across the parchment. The moment the quill left the paper, a purple stamp bearing the Snatcher's face appeared next to her signature. The contract rolled itself up and slipped into her jacket pocket. Snatcher cackled with laughter, “THAT SEALS THE DEAL! JUST ONE LAST THING!” Several bolts of weird purple lighting struck her at once, sending her to her knees, more out of shock then actual agony. Panting, she managed to look back up in time to see the demon holding a golden ball of energy. Her soul. Snatcher gazed hungrily at it, and she shuddered, before finding her voice again, “Hey now, we have a deal! Don't eat that!”

With a smirk he looked over at her, and with a flick of his wrist her soul had poofed away. “I DON'T BREAK MY OWN CONTRACTS. IF YOU DON'T HOLD UP YOUR END OF THE DEAL, I'LL GET A SOUL REGARDLESS! AND YOU KNOW, THE LONGER YOU STAND HERE, THE MORE TIME YOU WASTE. BEST GET A MOVE ON!”

#ahit au #ahit #shadow specter #shadowspecter #tw: death

[bo-sin-limite]

Fast-track to Nowhere

Dr. Kaufmann: After you reached out to me, I saw some pictures from Chile on your Facebook thing…is that where you live now?

Bo: Those are actually from like 8 months ago... I just got here from France as I want to go skiing and I have some friends with a shack up here. But before I spent like 3 months hitchhiking across Argentina - I love that place. You should totally check it out: Lush green Araucarnia forests, giant lakes and glaciers in the South. And up North it’s these crazy extraterrestrial desert landscapes, rainbow-colored hills with space-llamas. Worth it just for the hikes, but also fancy for lazy drivers like you. and Mother of God: the food is just fantastic. incredible steaks and red wines for next to nothing. You would love it there.

The Andes mountains cut across the whole thing, actually they run up through North-America as far up as Alaska. Anyway now I’ve just done Spain and France on my way to the Alps. I am so glad to meet you here after all this time. Last time I met you, you were in Düsseldorf working for some tech-company. What are you doing now? And what brings you up here?

Dr. Kaufmann: I am still in Düsseldorf, actually I just bought a flat there.

Bo: Now why would you stay in that shithole for so many years?

Dr. Kaufmann: I am still working with UltraCorp, the money’s good and I am now the Head of Innovation and Agile Project Development.

Bo: That actually sounds pretty breakthrough - congratulations!

Dr. Kaufmann: Well to be fair it’s not really like we invent anything - actually we scout for new products and ideas from others that we could try to implement in our company. Arguably it’s a nicer label for trying to catch up with the present.

I am here this week for the digital designer conference down in Zürich. Supposedly I am here to escape the mental incest pond of my company and discover the next big thing for UltraCorp. But then instead... I hate these conferences!

Everyone’s just repeating the same shit over and over. It’s like a ritual we perform to show we truly believe it.

It feels like all the people from the industry, we’re on stage together putting on a play for the world. It’s not like any of them convince me of their bullshit, but the good actors are so deep in-character that with some I am afraid they don’t know they are acting.

Alas, I am part of this doomsday machine and have my part to play.

And while somehow we are all acting together, at the same time we are competing for attention - it’s the business version of hell! It’s like going to a physical manifestation of linkedin and being stuck there for days.”

A waiter comes by: Have the gentlemen decided?

Dr. Kaufmann: I will have the French breakfast with croissant, fresh orange juice and a Latte.

Bo: Just a coffee for me...and your wifi password please.

Dr. Kaufmann: Aren’t you hungry?

Bo: Can you put it on your company bill?

Dr. Kaufmann: Don’t worry about it - I’m buying.

Bo: Sweet. Then I will have the big Aussi Avo Smash and a plate of Jamón Iberico please. oh and make that a tall Chai Latte. Gracias

Dr. Kaufmann: So in between all these Xerox copy presentations, they give you caffein and sugar so you can stay awake to subdue yourself to yet another round. But the food is not really free - the buffet is a great opportunity for “networking”- it’s a goddamn snake pit. The more small talk I endure, the more emails I have to evade later.

You can’t even take a leak without being harassed by these goddamn sales reps with all their bullshit. It finally made me understand the suffering of being the prettiest girl in high school. These sales reps are fuckin animals! They are professionally trained to detect your weakness, conditioned to smile. Rejection turns them on. They offer gifts and politeness to force your natural urge for reciprocity...

Bo: Well that sounds annoying. But I guess it’s their job to get along with you.

Dr. Kaufmann: Yes, but they just take it way too far. They got all this hypnotic body language bullshit going on - they mirror your posture to gain empathy.  

They stop seeing you as a human being - really they just want to take you behind the shed and jump you. Never let them smell the scent of opportunity!

Once your business card is in that goddamn sales funnel - you will never be free. They will keep stalking you!

Bo: Poor bastards. I think you need to snap out of it. We should hike up to Müllers Zipfel today - that will give you some headspace!

Dr. Kaufmann: Can’t. Flying back tonight. I have projects to deliver and a hard deadline next week. That’s another reason I hate conferences: Your workload at home just stacks up - and you feel guilty as if you had gone to play golf. So on top of travel - you end up working the weekend. Once you have some seniority, you have to deliver shit, no matter what. You can’t really explain to people you would rather go to the gym or your weekend has any kind of tangible priority.

Bo: But if you are so busy, then why did you come to the conference?

Dr. Kaufmann: Well my boss kind of made me, apparently he committed to some guy from the supervisory board. Plus I had to pitch my face to the CEO of GigaCorp…

Bo: Isn’t that your competitor?

Dr. Kaufmann: Yes they are. Except we are cooler, more sustainable and more innovative.

Bo: I figured you couldn’t switch to your direct competitor?

Dr. Kaufmann: Well it sucks for my future ex-company of course, but for me it’s actually kind of necessary. I have been with Ultra for like 4 years and it’s starting to look lame. I should switch within the next year or so - if they give me the right package...  

Bo: You mean a new challenge and some free time?

Dr. Kaufmann: Good one :-) No, I need to increase my headcount and a bigger bonus.

Bo: But the money you make right is already completely sick! Didn’t you just buy your 3rd house?

Dr. Kaufmann: I have a friend, he makes like 3x what I make. It’s ridiculous. Plus I need to up my headcount now, if I want to make C-Level before I reach 50.

Dr. Kaufmann: Well those actually increase my monthly cost. I do alright, but I am still not at that point where it’s really worth it...

Bo: You have it all figured out then?

Dr. Kaufmann: You just look at where you want to be in 10 years, determine the steps to get there and calculate backwards. It’s not exactly rocket science.

Bo: But then you are glued to rails. The rest of your life will be one straight line.

Dr. Kaufmann: It relaxes me to see I am on track - currently I am actually 2 years ahead of my plan. How else would you do it?

Bo: I’d run that train right off the tracks.

#career #rat race #happiness #train #grow #success #performance #money #cash #dollars #economy #midlife

[overlyobsessedgaygal]

TUA Fanfiction Prompts

30 Fics we need for our TUA obsession.

Mostly Klaus & Vanya with some Five thrown in. If you write any of these please tag me in it, I have been collecting these for ages. I really wish I wasn't stuck with writer's block because this fandom seems amazing and my brain has so many ideas.

1) Ben knew that Klaus could make him corporeal. When Klaus was really high one time someone tried to hurt Klaus and Klaus' fear (and Ben's anger) caused Ben to be able to make physical contact to protect his brother

2) A drug dealer is harassing Klaus, Five/Diego finds out. When Klaus runs into the drug dealer again it's because the man is a ghost and instead of screaming at him the ghost is apologizing and begging Klaus to call off the assassin before he kills his family.

3) Vanya brings home a kitten (or other cute animal) and Luther/Allison/Five is the only one there. They bond over the kitten together.

4) Vanya brings home an injured snake (or other 'dangerous' animal) and her and Diego/Klaus/Five bond over it together.

5) When Five needs a legal guardian it becomes obvious that Klaus (and Ben) will have to step up to the plate. Five is not thrilled.

6) Vanya runs into Klaus years after they all moved away, he's homeless and wearing torn clothes. Vanya takes him shopping, Klaus gets his first skirt that is legally his.

7) Diego takes Grace on a walk and they find a little kid with some type of mutation/obvious power. The kid has been abandoned. Grace insists on becoming her grandmother, Diego ends up being a makeshift father.

8) Five is trying to figure out an equation and can't figure out why it's not write. Klaus burst into his room, corrects him, then asks for money. Five is just stunned.

9) Homophobes harass Klaus while he's out with his family. His siblings were in the diner, Klaus just came out to get Vanya's wallet from the car but somehow that offended them and now Klaus is on the ground with a busted lip. He looks up and he has never seen Vanya look so angry. Watching his little sister confront the body builder in front of him leaves him feeling worried for the homophobe

10) Five ends up becoming friends with Kenny after Klaus jokingly signs him up for the chess team.

11) "Klaus, how did you know you were gay?" Klaus looked at his sibling in surprise, seeing their nervous expression his eyes softened.

12) Ben gets a crush on a guy, forcing Klaus to talk to him until the guy reveals that he can feel Ben. Klaus just thinks the situation is crazy but Ben's happy, so Klaus has to play match maker for his dead brother.

13) It's been years since the Hargreeve siblings went their own way but that doesn't stop Klaus from being protective. Some druggie wants to mug Vanya, Klaus kicks his but. Klaus goes back and finds out Luther was shipped to the moon, he gets into a big argument with Reginald, Pogo and Grace. Klaus hears someone threatening to frame Diego for being on drugs, Klaus takes the fall. Someone wants to kidnap Claire, his niece, they're never heard from again.

14) Five being a huge softy with Claire and babysitting her (even though he didn't want to)

15) Claire learning to throw knives like her Uncle Diego, Claire learning to play Violin like her aunt Vanya, Claire doing Klaus' makeup and he actually wears it out (her mom never does), Claire baking cookies with her Grandma, Claire thinking talking to a ghost is the best thing ever and having Klaus translate hour long conversations with her uncle Ben.

16) Claire doesn't like Luther. Says he's a big meanie, and monkey.

17) When the siblings come home they find the yarn Klaus used to knit all over the house, a giant mess. Five gives a sheepish smile. "Delores wasn't the only creature with me in the apocalypse."

18) Vanya can not be pregnant, she can not have Leonard- Harold's baby. And yet she is. Alison and Luther say she has to keep it, Klaus, Ben and Five say it's up to her, Diego wants her to get an abortion.

19) Hazel and Agnes fluff fics. All of them.

20) Hazel personally apologizing to Diego for Eudora.

21) Five volunteers his siblings to help protect Agnes from Cha Cha

22) Eudora Patch died because of Klaus. Klaus can't even bring himself to summon her, not knowing that he's the reason his brother is heartbroken.

23) Klaus is tortured in front of his siblings eyes

24) Klaus does something he never thought he'd do, he ends up on his sibling's doorstep begging for food and a place to spend the night.

25) Alison lost contact with Claire, Patrick took her and they dropped off the map. Years later a nine year old Claire shows up on the door step of the Academy. Her father had been abusing her so she had run away.

26) They lost contact after saving the world, it was better this time. They knew each other's whereabouts and they went to each other in emergencies but didn't talk much anymore. Klaus was married, Alison had joint custody of Claire, Vanya was in a relationship, Diego had graduated the police academy, Luther had a real job, Five was handling himself. Then, Pogo dies suddenly and they come together for another funeral.

27) Five is overly attached to Delores and Klaus decides to have a conversation with his little brother about feelings and things like that.

28) Luther remembers when he hit his siblings. When he accidentally grabbed to hard and bruised or broke. When he got angry and threw stuff at them. The worst time though, the worst time was when he wrapped his hands around Klaus' neck and squeezed. All over drugs.

29) Klaus recognizes the signs of addiction manifesting in his little brother so when Five passes out on the bar he wakes up to all the liquor missing.

30) They're all the same age but they don't see each other that way. They're all older and younger than the other. Vanya has always been the youngest, Klaus the second youngest. But maybe that's changed now that they're adults, or maybe it's stayed the exact same. The siblings reflect on this.

#tua vanya #tua klaus #tua #tua fanfic #tua luther #the umbrella academy #Diego Hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #alison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #ben hargreeves #grace hargreeves #prompt #writing prompt

[davids-cartoon-corkboard]

I'm starting to think that Venomous and Shadowy Figure aren't twin brothers but one of them is the turbonic form of Laserblast. It's hard to say for sure which one is the turbo form because while Venomous is similar in personality to Laserblast ( Calm and collected, likes cute animals, romantically attracted to those who show strength. ) it feels like Shadowy Figure is more actively fit, carefree, goofy, and seems to genuinely care for K.O which gives him heroic traits.

I think Venomous and Shadowy Figure are brothers (maybe nottwins), and Shadowy Figure is Laserblast. However, Shadowy isn’tturbo!Laserblast. Which sounds confusing, but I’ll try to explain.

(longish post under the cut)

Coincidences happen all the time in real life. But OK KO isa story, and coincidences don’t happen nearly as often in stories. This storyhas only two purple snake people. Not two prominentpurple snake people, two purple snake people period. And they’re both voiced by Steven Ogg! They’re connected somehow.To fit with the show’s themes of family and identity, they’re either related orthe same person. (If someone can think of a third option that would fit, I’dlove to hear it.)

Ven and Shadowy aren’t the same person. Shadowy is veryfixated on KO and his power. Wouldn’t figuring out how to obtain it be aninteresting and complex project for Ven? But Ven had been dealing withlong-term boredom as of “Boxman Crashes”. Wouldn’t he have at least mentionedbeing frustrated at “not making progress” or being “stuck on a problem”? Thosetwo puzzle pieces don’t fit together.

Also, Shadowy Figure made a huge tactical blunder that wouldn’t have happened if he wasVenomous. When Fink was upset she couldn’t go to the party in “Villain’s Night In”, Ven apologized for disappointing her (via text, but still an apology). Every good parent knows the powerof an apology. And from a strategic standpoint, Shadowy should have apologizedfor hurting KO. I doubt he feels guilty about it, but when has the idea oflying ever stopped people like him? The second time he interacted with KO wasin “Let’s Have a Stakeout”. He acted manipulative, insulted KO, and physicallyattacked him. What if he hadn’t done that? What if he had met KO in the sewersand said, “I’m sorry”?

“KO, I’m sorry for what happened to the Plaza. If I hadknown the true extent of your power I would never have pushed you so hard inthe first place. I wanted to help you, but I wasn’t careful enough and wound uphurting you and many others instead. This is all my fault, and I am so, sosorry.”

Suddenly KO doesn’t feel quite so guilty for wrecking thePlaza, because Shadowy has taken the blame instead. Suddenly this guy isn’t anenemy, but a potential ally who just made a mistake. People forgive KO when hemakes mistakes, shouldn’t he do the same? And so what if Shadowy’s POW cardsays he’s level negative eight? KO’s card obviously isn’t accurate, so maybeShadowy’s isn’t either!

Maybe KO starts to trust Shadowy again, putting him in theideal situation to be manipulated. Carol and Gar and everyone else would thinkhis new friend was evil, so KO can’t tell them he’s visiting Shadowy. Shadowywants to fix this, so maybe it’s okay for him to take a few hair and salivasamples. Both want KO to use this power responsibly, so maybe he’d considerpracticing with it… just a little…

But Shadowy isn’t Venomous, so he messed up and none of thathappened. It would have been so cool,though.

Since Ven and Shadowy are not the same person, they must berelated. I only call them brothers for convenience, they could be cousins orsomething.

Where does Laser fit into this? Well, he’s not dead. Acharacter isn’t confirmed dead if nobody finds the body. And it doesn’t makesense for him to have said “screw this” and gone off to chill on a tropicalisland for the past six to eleven years without letting anyone know he wasokay. He must still be relevant. “Where did Laser go?” and “Where did Shadowycome from?” are questions that easily answer one another.

Both the blue and green orbs activated in the “Let’s Take aMoment” flashback. It’s possible the red orb also activated, removing Laser’spowers. Laser is clearly KO’s father. Children tend to inherit their powersfrom their parents. Shadowy wants KO’s power, but we don’t know the reason. Laserhas a reason, though. Them being the same person would fill in that blank verynicely.

While Shadowy is morecarefree and goofy than Laser, Shadowy isn’t under the pressure of Being a GoodExample, Not Disappointing Foxtail, and Not Blowing His Cover. I’m much morepolite and formal at my job than I am at home. This difference in personalitycan likely be chalked up to a difference in environment. Goofy isn’t inherentlya heroic trait either, Boxman is very goofy but he is absolutely a villain.

I don’t see any evidence for the Laser=Ven idea. While theirpersonalities are similar, it’s possible that’s just due to being raised in thesame environment. Sure, Ven has something to do with turbo power, but hisinterest in KO specifically is minimal, even though KO is apparently a sourceof it. He doesn’t seem to prioritize antagonizing KO over Rad or Enid. He hasno reason to attack the Plaza or its members other than to have fun withBoxman. We haven’t seen him interact with or comment on Carol. His opinion onP.O.I.N.T. seems to be wholly negative instead of wistful or bittersweet. Therearen’t enough strings linking the two for me to think they’re the same person.

Laserblast is Shadowy Figure, and that person is Venomous’brother. “Shadowblast” wants KO’s power so he can restore his own. But thepower he wants isn’t just turbo power. In “Boxman Crashes”, Venbecame more snakelike when he lost his temper. Ven has shapeshifting abilities,but he doesn’t use them a lot because he fights with science instead of hisbody. His brother Shadowy may have also had shapeshifting abilities. But sinceShadowy is a physical fighter, hewould have had more incentive to train and improve his powers.

Perhaps he got so good at shapeshifting he could change intoa human form?

And that is where“Laserblast” comes from. No turbo power, no two identities housed in one body,just regular-ass shapeshifting and a whole lot of lies.

KO’s eyes are typically brown (like Carol’s?), but have beenred, purple, both, or a mix when influenced by turbo power.

Maybe Shadowy hadpurple eyes and tried to change them to red to match Laser’s visor beam, butcouldn’t do it fully? Laser always hid his eyes because one was stuck atpurple. We could see this heterochromia in modern day Shadowy and that will beThe Big Reveal.

But why wouldShadowy undergo such a dramatic change for such a long period of time?

My theory is that Ven and Shadowy are from a formerlypowerful villain family. Shadowy had a mission to infiltrate P.O.I.N.T., butcouldn’t complete it because he lost his powers and permanently reverted to hisoriginal form (except possibly for his red eye). His failure disgraced thefamily. Ven often wears a hat and glasses in public and Shadowy Figure wears ahood because they don’t want to be recognized as members of the disgracedfamily.

Shadowy wants his powers back so he doesn’t have to sneakaround everywhere. Perhaps he even wants to become Laser again, to make up astory about why he was gone so long and return to his former friends. Cob knowshis family won’t take him back.

Shadowy had major shapeshifting abilities, while Carol hasnone. This gives KO minor shapeshifting abilities. Because the abilities are sominor (and possibly because he doesn’t know he has them), they only manifestwhen boosted by turbo power. We can see this in “You’re Level 100”, when KO wasusing turbo power before TKO had fully formed. His eyes, teeth, and claws areclearly different.

KO’s minor shifting powers with enough turbonic energyshould get Shadowy back to his original ability level.

“But David!” you ask. “If Shadowy’s power is onlyshapeshifting, then where does KO’s turbo power come from?”

It comes from Carol. And I know that sounds like a reach,but hear me out. Carol can mimic any combat move she sees. We see this mostoften when she copies Gar’s signature move. But it’s not your standard elbowattack- it also emits a pink energy. This suggests Carol could mimic otherenergy emitting moves.

Remember that turbo collar Ven made for Fink? It worked very well! The only reason it stopped was because it ran out of power. There weren’t any glitches or malfunctions. That means it probably isn’t the first iteration of this project. Perhaps he’s had prototypes for years and years, but hardly made useof them because he a) didn’t have a stable glorb supply, b) doesn’t dohand-to-hand combat himself, and/or c) didn’t trust anyone he might have beenworking with to use it. But he let Fink have it because she’s loyal and theynow have access to Boxman’s glorbs.

The tree under the Plaza is a source of glorbs. Presumablythere’s another one somewhere else underground, as suggested by the glorbcluster Gar sealed up in “GarQuest”. There are likely more of them scatteredacross the world. If we’ve noticedthe similarity between glorbs and the colored orbs, P.O.I.N.T. may have too.Carol’s new outfit in the “GarQuest” flashback suggests she still did somenon-secret hero work after Laser’s death, presumably until she realized she waspregnant. I think she was sent on a mission to make sure a glorb tree didn’tfall under villain control, and got in a fight when she arrived; perhapsagainst Venomous himself, perhaps against someone he used to test the collar on.If Carol fought a collar-powered villain while in a glorb-rich environment, shecould have used her ability to temporarily go turbo herself.

Which could do odd things to a fetus.

While KO has a weaker version of his father’s power, he alsohas a weaker version of his mother’s. “Copycat” becomes “Imprint”. He can copyan energy-emitting ability… but only once, and then he’s stuck with it.Normally he wouldn’t have been able to do this until after he was born, butsince he was essentially soaked inturbo power, he imprinted early.

This would explain why his standard power fist is blue- it’sthe color of a normal glorb. Only under special circumstances can he use theturbo version. It might also be why PKO’s headband and wristbands are blue.

That’s why Carol has no fucking clue what’s going on withher kid. It wasn’t a particularly memorable mission, and she was focused on hergrief. She has no reason to connect it to KO’s situation six to eleven yearslater. Maybe now that Foxtail’s done a heel face turn we can get access to someold mission files.

I’d say, “this is a bit complex for a children’s cartoon”,but Gravity Falls and Steven Universe pulled off some wild shit. It couldhappen!

This was probably way more of a reply than either of us were expecting, haha. But that’s my take on things! Y’all are welcome to bring up new evidence, alternate theories, corrections, etc.

#bluenebelung #ok ko #ok ko theory #tko #professor venomous #shadowy figure #laserblast

[themoonandotherslikeit]

What the Rain Can’t Wash Away- Chapter 4

*FINAL PIECE IN THE LOOK IN HER EYES TRILOGY*

Sixteen years after Lucifer rose, and Dean lost his wife he finds himself with a teenager, a Nephilim, an angel, and his brother living out a Full House rerun with some seriously dark undertones. How will he be able to raise his daughter, fight monsters, and deal with the loss of the love of his life? Sometimes moving on is the hardest part, but with the Winchester’s there’s always something harder around the corner. Isn’t there?

Chapter Four, Poughkeepsie 

Dean

"A... pearl?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Yup," Sam said smoothly. "It grants your deepest desire."

"That means...Micheal gone. That's my deepest desire!"

"Exactly." Sam grinned triumphantly. "So you think you can hold off on the whole deep sea plan for a few days?"

I swallowed. If this was true.. then fuck. That could be the solution. "Seems a little too good to be true, man. Don't you think?"

My little brother shrugged. "Maybe, but we won't know until we try. Ya know?"

"Do you have any leads on it?" I pressed. I would be damned if I got my hopes up just to have something else fall through. Just to have another wild goose chase.

"Actually, we do," Cas said, literally stepping out of the shadows.

I jumped in my seat at the table. "Jesus, man! What're you doin lurking like that?"

"I wasn't lurking, Dean," Cas said with a huff. "I was just waiting for the best moment to bring you the good news."

"Well, it was creepy," I said, taking a swig of my beer. "What's the lead?"

Cas walked to the kitchen table. "A man named Larkin. He is a collector, of sorts. A procurer of rare occult items."

"Like Bela?" Sam asked, making a face.

"Not exactly," Cas said smoothly. "He keeps them for himself. Locked away. Sometimes he will sell, for a price, but something like this won't be for sale. It's too valuable."

"Right," I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "So what do you propose? We ask nicely?"

"I was thinking we should steal it."

"Cas, you naughty girl," I said through clenched teeth.

Sam shrugged again. "Won't be the first time."

"What's with you two?" I asked, standing. "You have a death wish for a half assed lead?"

"It isn't half assed." Sam frowned. "This is a real lead, Dean."

"Well, we don't know if we can get it or if it would even work."

"But we should still try," Cas said gently.

"Respectfully? Fuck no. This guy probably has an arsenal."

"So?" Sam rolled his eyes. "We have an arsenal. We can handle this, Dean."

"Just put me in the box, Sammy. Put me in the box and let me fucking rest."

I turned to leave but Sammy grabbed my arm to stop me. I turned to meet his pained expression. "Just let us try, Dean. Please."

I sighed. How could I say no to those fucking doe eyes? They were the same ones that got me a thousand times over. The same eyes that pulled me out of my head, out of the pocket that Michael had slipped me into. He gave me strength I didn't know I had. "Okay, Sammy. We can give it a shot, but we can't wait around forever. You got a game plan?"

"The start of one."

"How far away is it?"

"Bout seven hours."

"Good. We can finish the plan on the way. I'll let the kids know we are headed out on a case. Wheels up in ten."

  -Three weeks earlier, inside Dean's mind-

 I flipped the Tequila bottle. Once, twice. "Damn I'm getting good at that." I grinned to myself, finishing pouring the shot.

"Shit,” a voice came along with the chime of the front door. "It's really coming down out there."

I turned toward the familiar voice. Ava. "Hey, Sweetheart."

"Got your precious limes. Hope my Afro is worth it," she joked, shaking out her black curls. They were a bit bigger than usual from the humidity.

"Totally worth it," I grinned widely, gesturing for her to come to me. "We can't have the house special without limes. What are we, savages?"

She hopped up on the bar, and slid into my arms. I pressed a gentle kiss on her lips and she smiled against me.

"I missed you," I told her.

"I've been gone half an hour, you're so needy," she teased, kissing me again.

"Yeah, well, it felt like a fucking life time."

Ava grinned back at me. "Should we close up? It's pretty fucking dead in here."

"You're right," I sighed. "And I need to do the books."

"You're really sexy when you talk management to me." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Well, Mrs. Winchester, I could use the help. Step into my office?"

"In a minute." She smiled. "I want a famous house special." She slid off the bar top and rested on a stool.

I sliced a lime effortlessly, like it was second nature.

"Have you heard from Nel?" She asked, leaning in to me, the tops of her breasts poking out from her V-neck.

"At the movies with Claire."

"That's a normal teenage thing to do. I'm so proud." Ava grinned. "Does this mean she's given up on the idea of being a hunter like Mom and Dad?"

"We aren't exactly hunting anymore," I said with a smile. I reached out and ran my thumb over her bottom lip. "We're business owners."

"Yeah, we are."

I sighed. "Yeah, Sam and Cas are still on that ghoul hunt in Wichita. Should be home soon though."

"Maybe we should hire Sam as a bar-back." She grinned. "With you two behind the bar we won't need to do ladies night to make extra money."

"Don't objectify me," I scoffed, even though I couldn't hide my growing smile.

"You love it."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Dean." She leaned forward, touching my cheek with her soft hand and kissed me.

Something inside me ached at the kiss, and I pulled her closer, deepening it. I would take her right there on the bar top if she'd let me. I would run into the rain and scream I love my fucking wife! There was no need, though, I had her, and nothing would rip me away from her.

"Two House Specials." I grinned, sliding her a tequila shot, a lime, and a beer. I opened my own beer.

"Best special around." She smiled, raising her shot glass. "To Rocky's, to our dysfunctional family, and to us. Love can solve anything."

"Fuck yeah it can." We clinked glasses and downed the shots.

Ava wiggled as the alcohol ran through her, and she wrapped her lips around the lime, sucking.

I hopped over the bar and swiftly walked to the front door, flipping the sign to closed.

"What're you doing?" She asked, removing the lime from her lips.

"Gonna do what I've been thinking about since the moment you walked back into this bar."

"And what's that?" She asked coyly.

"'Mere and I'll show you."

I walked to her, meeting her in the middle before pulling her into my arms. She fit there like she was made for me, like I was made for her. I captured her lips in mine and ran my fingers down her back.

"Dean," she whispered.

"Dean."

I turned, with my hand up her fucking shirt, to find Sam and Cas staring at me wide eyed.

Sammy stood there slack jawed like a complete creep.

"No offense, guys, I'm glad you're here, but Christ can you not watch?" I laughed, moving my hand out of Ava's shirt.

She readjusted her top and her hair. "Hey Sam, Cas. How was the case?"

"Ava," Sam muttered.

"What's wrong with you, man? Was it a tough one?"

"I'll get you two a beer," Ava said, going behind the bar. "We have this new one from Austin. It's an IPA, you'll love it."

"Dean," Sam said, grabbing ahold of me. He turned my attention from Ava behind the bar, one of my favorite versions of her, to him.

"What man?"

"What's going on here?" He asked low.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, shrugging him off.

"Glad you two are back safe," Ava said, cracking the caps off the beers. "I think Dean was starting to get worried." She smiled brightly. Damn she lights up a room.

"Was not," I grunted.

I made my way back behind the bar, and snaked an arm around Ava's waist. "What're you two waiting for? Want her to bring the beers to you? Drink up." I slid the beer to the edge of the bar, waiting for Sam and Cas to oblige. They'd never had a problem drinking my free beer before.

The two of them raced toward the bar and Sam placed his palms flat on the bar top. "We don't have time for this. I'm sorry, Dean..."

"Sorry bout what? I'll drink the beer if you don't want it, Sammy."

Ava laughed. "Not if you're wanting to... you know." She eyed me.

Cas raised an eyebrow. "Wanting to what?"

Ava looked to me for approval and I shrugged. "We are trying to get pregnant again. Now that things have slowed down... and beer can lower the sperm count. We already have a lot against us from our age. So no more than one drink a day. He promised."

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. "And I won't break it." I swore to her. I looked to my brother and Cas, who honestly looked like someone ran over their puppy. "What the fuck is wrong with you two? Thought you'd be happy?"

"Dean.. None of this is real. Okay? The bar... Ava.."

"Excuse me?" Ava asked, moving out of my arms. "You've never met anyone more real than me, Sam Winchester."

"You're just a complex manifestation of Dean's memories designed to distract him," Cas said sadly.

"You really know how to talk to a lady, don't you?" She grinned. "Just have the beer, Castiel. You're a little tightly wound."

"Okay, listen to me," Sam said, frustrated. "You have to remember what's going on out in the real world."

"I know its raining." I gestured to the bay windows in the bar. "What else do I need to know?" My whole world is in here. I thought, kissing Ava's hair.

"No! I'm not talking about the rain. I'm talking about Michael."

I blinked a few times. "Michaels in the cage."

"Sam you okay?" Ava asked gently. "Was there something more that happened on the hunt?"

I stroked the length of her back, feeling almost blissful. I barely noticed what Sam and Cas were saying. Being this close to her just felt so fucking good.

"No, damn it. It wasn't a bad case."

"Michael is possessing you," Castiel said carefully. "You have to remember that."

"Come on guys," I groaned. "What? Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, Dean," Cas sighed. "It isn't a joke."

"Okay, okay," Ava said, putting her hands up. "If we are inside Dean's head then he should be able to control things, like a lucid dream?

Sam looked flustered. "I don't know, maybe?"

"Then let's go ahead and skip all the dirty stuff. Where's my baby, Dean? Get me pregnant with your brain," she said before busting into laughter.

"Baby, I don't want to miss the dirty stuff." I wiggled my eyebrows at her.

"Dean listen to me. This bar is not real. Ava isn't real. You know what happened to her," Sam said insistently.

I frowned. "Man, that's my wife. Stop talking about her like she isn't here."

"She isn't here, Dean. Ava.. Ava died that night in the church. The night that Lucifer rose. You remember that, right?"

I frowned and closed my eyes. Do I?

"It's going to be okay, Ave. I've got you. I won't let you go," I said into her hair. "You're the one, sweetheart. It's always been you. From the second I walked into that bar. It'll be okay, because everything with us is right. You're the only thing that's right."

I opened them back and she was gone. "Where the... where'd Ava go? Ava?" I ran out from behind the bar. "This isn't funny... this... this is my life." My eyes stung. "This is the dream!"

"No, Dean," Cas said sadly. "This is a dream, Dean. That's all it is. Please you have to try to remember, because the people in your life.. in your real life out there need you to come back. Eleanor needs you to come back."

Eleanor.

"No." I shook my head. "Nel's in a movie with Claire. She's being a normal kid. She's happy. We're happy."

Sams eyes flickered to mine and with a sad expression whispered. "Poughkeepsie."

"What?" My heart sunk.

"Poughkeepsie."

Ella

Two days after the boys went to look for the pearl

 "I haven't heard from them." I crossed my arms, pacing the length of the kitchen. "I'm starting to get worried. They call they always call."

"Maybe their phones are dead?" Claire offered weakly. She knew that this was as bad as I did.

"They always check in Claire. What if something happened? What if Michael escaped and blew them up? What if they're..."

"We will go save them," Jack said, standing suddenly.

"I know where they went," Claire said, meeting my eyes.

"You do? They told you?"

"I sort of... fuck. I didn't want to have to lie to you. They were looking for a solution for Michael. This magical pearl that grants you your hearts desire."

"So they think they can use it to get Michael gone?"

"Yeah. We think at least."

"Claire, why didn't you tell me?" I asked, desperately.

"We didn't want to get your hopes up if it wasn't going to happen," she sighed.

"Do you think it can really work?" Jack asked, hopeful.

"That's the idea."

"If they're still alive," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Jack's right. We have to save them."

"We could call another hunter."

"Claire, why don't you want me on this? I can do it. I know how to shoot, plus, I'll have you both with me." I smiled, taking her hands. "Let's go save our Dad's."

"Fine," she said curtly. "But I don't like it.

"Someone wise once told me that I don't have to like something, but I do have to respect it."

"What dumbass said that?"

"Mmm not sure, but damn I bet she was pretty," I said, placing a kiss on Claire's lips. "Wheels up in ten?"

"Really, Dean Jr?"

I shrugged with a grin. "Always wanted to say that."

"I will pack the snacks," Jack said with a nod.

"Not a lot though, Jack! We are taking the bike," Claire said flippantly.

It had to be a real funny sight seeing Claire and I on a motorcycle, with Jack in the sidecar. Like real fucking funny.

I borrowed one of Claire's leather jackets and my own boots. Jack was wearing one of Sam's jackets, even though it just about swallowed him whole.

"We have a long ride, so get comfy," Claire said, kick starting the bike.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pressing my face to her back. This is all I need to be comfortable. You're all I need.

Claire turned back to me with a smile, before closing the plastic on her helmet over her face. "You're all I need, too."

—————

Chapter Five, Adventures in Babysitting

Get caught up!

Tag list:

@deans-baby-momma

@xjamiedennettx

@linki-locks11

@sonnierae26

#the look in her eyes #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #fanfiction #fic #writing #dean winchester #dean #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam #castiel #jack kline #claire novak #dad!dean winchester #dad!sam winchester #dad!castiel #dad!cas #dad!dean #dad!sam #team free dads #claire x ofc #claire novak x ofc #lgbtq #daughter winchester #dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #sam winchester x ofc #sam x ofc