#ill try to crochet that little Home for him to have a friend....

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

IS NO ONE GONNA MENTION THEY EXTENDED THE TIME/DAYS FOR WALLY?!

(I already got mine but still?! This is cool and crazy?!)

good for him!!! good for him... more people deserve to have him!

#i already got mine as well! #ALSO 9554% FUNDED??? DAMNNNNNNN #bitches love wally darling (its me im bitches) #i Wonder if it can reach 10k... #almost pulled a kindergartner there by being like 'whoahhhh a million percent!!!' #the last math class i took was in junior year and it Shows #rambles from the bog #ohhhh i cant wait until he Arrives on my doorstep... #ill try to crochet that little Home for him to have a friend....

[citrusbatsandhoneybees]

-The Fading Star-

-Part 5-

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Longer chapter Folks! I just kept going, and it seemed off to split it into two so here it is! Again, if you prefer AO3 it's on there now too.

Lucifer Morningstar X Female! Insert

Content Warnings: Swearing, Illness descriptions, Car Crash descriptions, more angst

Quick Synopsis: Tsuki was made to keep Lilith company during her marriage with Adam, but finds herself, unwillingly, falling in love with a certain archangel. Then after many millennia she reunites with Lucifer.

It had been a week and a half since Tsuki had arrived at the hotel, and if the tension in the air was thick before it was practically palpable now. She had continued avoiding me in every way, with our closest interaction being in the kitchen on her first day.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I paced beside my bed. I don’t understand why she was so insistent on not speaking with me; it was starting to have a negative effect on my Charlie’s friends at this point. Even they’ve tried to tell me to talk to her. Ha! Like I haven’t tried! Every single opportunity that presents for us to speak, even if it would be short, she shuts down immediately. Charlie has even attempted to help me with her. During her daily redemption lessons, she’s tried setting up partner activities, but of course Tsuki made an excuse to leave early. This is ridiculous, she can’t think that she’s just going to never speak with me again, does she? Just stay a whisper away from me for the rest of time?

My duck alarm finally starts to squeak beside me as it waddles around on the bedside table, and I close its beak. I summon my staff and grip it tightly as I get ready to head down for the day. Time to try again, I guess. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’ve grown into a routine since I’ve arrived at the hotel: Wake up early, make breakfast, Charlie’s redemption lesson, grab list, help souls, come home, work on paperwork, sleep as much as I can, repeat. It was slowly getting more and more draining, but I could handle it. I’ve handled way worse; I just have to get used to the routine. It definitely doesn’t help that Lucifer has gotten pushier, talking about me and Eden in front of me with the other residents. He doesn’t get to decide when I speak with him. That’s for me to choose, and at this point he’s not giving me any reason to want to. It is strange though to not see Lilith, when I saw them last, they were practically attached by the hip. No one around has even mentioned her either. Maybe her absence is a sore subject for Charlie. She’s probably out doing something important for Hell, I’m sure; she is the queen. Luckily, other than Lucifer’s attempts, everything else at the hotel is going fairly well. Angel and I seem to always leave the hotel at the same time, so I talk to him every day. He’s really sweet to me, in his own way.  I enjoy Charlie’s lessons quite a bit; she’s so much like her father. Alastor has been quite helpful in the mornings, and our conversations are nice. Hopefully I can get closer with the others though. I’ve gotten a quick jist of what they are like through the small lessons I attend, but by the time I get back everyone’s usually in bed. Except for a few rare cases. 

Charlie rounds everyone to the lobby as normal, and everyone resides in their seat. Once I finally get comfortable in my spot, with a small twirl of glitters, I summon a crochet hook and small violet blanket that I’ve started. My hands rigorously work in a smooth rhythm, loop after loop continuing the row that I was on. This little project of mine has helped center my focus onto Charlie as she spoke for the past week.

“So... we still don’t have any new residents, and we believe that it’s because they’re still scared after the last extermination, so we need to show them that it’s worth it to stay at the new hotel! Vaggie, Dad, Alastor, and I have been talking, and we believe a good way to start is a banquet. That way we could show off the new hotel, and properly explain the hotel’s concept again before other fun things.”

A banquet? I haven’t been to one, but if I remember correctly Michael has told me about the events, he’s held for some of the higher-ranking angels in heaven. 

“Is this going to be a formal event?” 

Charlie turned to Tsuki after she heard her question. 

“Yeah kinda, we want everyone to be comfortable, but we’ll have a dress code, so we don’t have anyone coming with well….  erotic ideas.” 

“Ooooh so you’re tellin me I get to see whiskers here in a suit?” 

Angel turned to the cat demon and teased while adjusting his legs over him. His smirk grew further as Husk rolled his eyes at the one draped over him, but no one was lost to the smile that stayed clear on his face. Charlie smiled and giggled lightly under her hand before she continued. 

“Anyway… so to make this happen, I need everyone on deck. Dad already said that he would handle the food, and Alastor the music, but that leaves decorating and getting the word out. Angel Dust can probably help out Vaggie and I with invitations, so I need Husk and Tsuki to help out with getting this place ready for a banquet. Although if you two aren’t able to find something for it, I’m sure my dad can help with that too.” 

Lucifer puffed out his chest a little proud that his daughter was relying on him for his help again, and Tsuki let out a small sigh, and looked back down to her blanket as the conversation continued over what the banquet needed. It would be fun to help arrange an event like this, but she would have to find time to be able to do everything required. Excitement grew over the rest of the group as they spoke about what they could do for the banquet. Even Husker chuckled along with Angel Dust when he suggested dragging him out on the dance floor after the courses were over. Tsuki smiled down at her project while listening to the cheery dialogues ahead of her. Angel Dust nudged her side before she could get too lost in thought. 

“You know I’m gonna drag you shoppin too sugar!” 

Tsuki sarcastically huffed out a breath and laughed lightly in response. She wouldn’t mind spending more time with him if she got the time. Standing from her spot, her small project whooshes away with the sparkles of her magic before she offers her hand down to Angel Dust. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now I’ve gotta head off are you coming?” 

“Nah toots, I got the day off. But… you should consider talkin to your “old friend” over there he looks like he’s going to pounce on you as soon as you take a step.” 

She pinches the bridge of her nose as she allows a low groan past her lips. Of course she could feel the lingering stares. There was no way she was going to deal with this right now, so she pushed it off once again as she walked out of the lobby. Angel was right, Lucifer was quick on his feet to chase her outside the lobby. Just before he could reach her, she whipped out her wings and dropped through a portal. He groaned and stepped up to the portal, glancing into it for a moment before it swirls to a close. 

“Fuck.. Why is she so stubborn??”

His hands grazed through his hair to soothe his bubbling frustration as he walks back into the lobby. To which almost all of the rest of crew was staring back at him. 

“I’m assuming that his majesty wasn’t able to speak with her once again?” 

Lucifer grinds his teeth as he glares back at the radio demon. Horns threatened to grow from his forehead as bright crimson surrounds the sclera of his eye. Alastor’s has been clearly enjoying all the misery the king has been going through this whole time and didn’t skip any chances to rub it in his face. 

“You fucking filthy prick”

Lucifer was on his wits end with the radio demon, with the only thing keep him from ripping him into tiny scorching pieces being his daughter. Who was currently standing next to the radio demon. 

“I do wonder what you could have possibly done for her to shut you out your highness!” 

Lucifer only growls and looks away from him, attempted to fizzle down the rising anger that he had ignited. 

“Al-” 

Vaggie attempted to interject into the conversation, but was interrupted by Alastor’s continued interrogation. 

“I believe that everyone here can agree that she seems like a sweet girl, so I imagine that it must’ve been something quite horrible for her to avoid you like this.” 

“I didn’t... it- it wasn’t like that”

Lucifer’s words caught in his throat as he attempted to defend himself mostly for his own sanity as he looked away from the others. Alastor’s eyes narrowed down at the King as he tightens his grip on the apple staff he summoned. Alastor cackles at the fallen angel, and slips away into his shadows, content with the response he got. Silence fell heavy across the room once Alastor faded away, and everyone’s eyes turned back to Lucifer. He lifted his head to look to the others after taking a deep breath. His gaze stops on Charlie. 

“I’ll talk to her.. I promise.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tsuki was now in Micheal’s office as usual, scanning through each paper of the binder he set out for her. She let out a heavy yawn as she rubbed the exhaustion out her eyes. Across from her the prince’s eyes narrowed looking over her face. He dropped his pen, and quickly grasped her chin turning her head to look up at him. Her eyes widened in surprise from the sudden touch as she looked over the blonde’s face. She felt her heart pounding against her chest and palms getting sweaty as she watched the man scan over her features. I didn’t do anything different! Does he know? Michael raised his other hand to rub the darkening circles under her eyes. 

“Angel.. You’re overworking again aren’t you. Why?”

She swallowed, and she started to tremble from the sudden attention she was being given. He knew her tendencies after working with her for so long, and she appreciated his concern. However she could feel her long overdue breakdown surfacing, so she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and bit her tongue. Placing a gentle hand onto his, she responds. 

“I’ve just had some stuff on my mind, nothing to worry over.” 

The prince let her out of his grasp and let out a heavy sigh. Tsuki relieved to be able to separate from the archangel, took a step back from the desk and curtsied. Looking up to the prince, she could feel him still examining her every move.

“I- I’ll do better Michael.”

 After he had looked to her and given her an approving nod she abruptly offered him a thank you and goodbye before walking through the portal he summoned with a simple flick of the wrist. Tsuki had left to go into the human realm and settled her rapid beating heart. Taking in a quick breath she readied herself as she approached the first on her list. 

The deep blue sparks flicker around her as she passes through her first portal and assesses her surroundings. Her eyes settle and adjust to the bright LED lights that were held above her. Her lily-white wings beat and push her forward in the sickly white room toward the teal curtain that stood across the room. Gently she pushed open the curtain to approach the bed that was held behind it. Under the cotton covers held a small child, connected to machine that let out a soft beep every few seconds.

The young brunette turned her head to face the angel and held up her heavy eyelids as best as she could. Her breath was shaky, and she trembled from the aching that she held within. Tsuki allowed her wings to fall and proceeded to her place next to the bed. The sickly girl reached out her hand to hold her own. Keeping a hold on little one, Tsuki leaned forward and held the child’s hand in a soft embrace before placing the other onto her chest.

"It'll be okay."

She spoke softly to ensure that even if she didn't understand what she said, the little girl could still feel calm beside her. Violet glitters erupt from underneath her hand and spread throughout her figure, fading away as they slip into the child’s chest. The small brunette’s eyelids flutter close as she feels the soft fuzzy and warm feeling grow and flow within her. Tsuki smiles as she allows her magic to quickly finish and looks to the girl that was now sound asleep. The angel summoned a small towel and wiped away the sweat on her brow before placing the girl’s hand back to her side.

The clicks of sparks sound behind her, so she pulls the cotton cover back over her and turned back the other end of the room. Her sets of wings flap, and briskly drove her toward the portal that formed outside the curtain. 

Through the portal she landed onto cold concrete. She squinted as she turned to look past the streetlamp that illuminated the dark road that Tsuki stood on. Repeated pangs of pain strain against her torso and shoulder pulls her towards the edge of the road. As she darts toward where her instincts were leading her, garbled staticky guitar plays from below her. Her eyes narrow as she spots a bright flashing light down the hill. She races towards the flashes and sound and finds a deep green vehicle flipped onto its side.

The green hood leaned against an oak tree and the glass was scattered across the ground from the impact the vehicle took. Tsuki calmly advanced and hovered over the doors ripping it open to find a young unconscious couple. She repeated the same process of unlocking the seatbelt’s retractor and shoved her arms under the hook of their knees and behind their backs to pull them out of the compact space before setting them both in the soft grass. After she does so, Tsuki works her magic and focuses on healing all of the clear injuries that she felt. The blood that was pushing past the gashes across their shoulders, chest, and head speedily comes to a halt as purple stitches and fills the injuries that they held. Tsuki lets out a deep breath as she finishes looking over to her chest, watching as the small piece of her that had gone transparent fills with her natural color once more. The familiar sound of sparks erupts to her side. 

“No.. I need to get them some help.”

Tsuki flew past the oak, and towards the bright headlights that were running past the area below. Once she arrived at the edge of the highway, she focused her gaze onto a car that appeared past the curve.

Assuming a position in the middle of the street, Tsuki shut her eyes tight and pushed her hands together. Heat grew between her palms, and light pushed past her fingers as she held her grip together tightly. Suddenly she allows the pressure to push her hands apart and in front of her, causing a burst of light and start dust to fall from her palms. The vehicle that was approaching came to a hurling stop, and a door flew open. The guardian angel looked toward the accident and rushed towards it allowing more of the glitters to flow past her to form a path as she approached, once she finally arrived, she checked over the young couple. After she was sure they would be okay, she flew through another deep blue portal. She healed, and helped all the souls she could in the time she had. 

It was always like this rush after rush of healing and helping certain people that she was summoned to. The guardian angel was used to this routine after doing it for many millennia. She was quick on her feet as she helped all of the souls that the divine had assigned for her. Flying through portal after portal, finding soul after soul. Throughout her lifetime she had gotten quick enough to be able to get through her “list” before Tsuki felt the need to stop, so she would keep going against Michael’s best wishes. It wasn’t any different this time, so by the time the angel realized she got too caught up in her work it was nearing morning in Hell.

Tsuki rubbed her temples and summoned her paperwork and a portal to the Hazbin hotel in a few snaps. The angel groaned holding the stack close to her chest as she entered the lobby. Silence reigned over the space that she stepped into. As she let out a sigh, Tsuki blinked a few times allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and kept her footsteps light as she walked past the lobby and to the elevator.

Once she had stepped into the elevator, Tsuki leaned her back against the wall of the elevator feeling herself rise to the top floor. Allowing her wings to finally rest into and fold back into her back, a small groan of relief leaves her lips, and she rolls her shoulders back at the feeling. Once she arrived at her floor, the guardian angel strolls towards her room and searches her pockets. Her eyebrows raise and panic abruptly washes over her as she continues searching after feeling that it wasn’t in its’ usual place. In her panicked state, the paperwork she held tightly fell from her grasp, and scattered across the floor.

“Fuck.. Just what I needed.” 

A frustrated grumble leaves her as she realizes it must’ve still been in her room. Tsuki bent down feeling the soft carpet against her knees, and started arranging her papers back into their appropriate order. After checking through them, she sets a paperclip over the side of them. 

 Tsuki pauses and turns to position herself against the door, allowing a calm to flow over her soul. She leans her head back settling the back of her head against the wood and allows her eyes to close. 

I’ve already used so much magic today. Should I get Alastor? Mmm It’s so late, I don’t want to bother him.  

Tsuki stared down to inspect her legs, rubbing the outside of them gently. A small area on her lower calf was transparent. After finding this, she takes a gentle hold of her halo, and holds it above the area. Gentle stardust fell onto the area, and her color starts to emerge faster back into the area. It was a slow process sometimes. As she kept a watchful eye on her calf, a soft voice interrupts her focus. 

“Hey..” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucifer watched the clock as hours and hours passed by, sitting at the bar, and waiting for Tsuki to come back to Hazbin hotel. He knew that the way things were going between them couldn’t last much longer, so he was determined to change it. The first few hours, the others kept him company, but they slowly dwindled away. It was nearly midnight before Charlie decided to pull her dad away, and to bed. 

“Dad, maybe you should wait till tomorrow, it’s late.” 

He looked back to her while he fidgeted with the tea bag that sat in his cup. He gave her a comforting smile after seeing her concerned expression. Lucifer pulled her into a tight embrace. 

“Okay sweetie, I’m sorry about all of this.” 

She reassured him that he didn’t need to apologize, and wrapped her arms around him too. After a few more moments, they allowed their arms loosen and pull away. Vaggie had lead her tired girlfriend back to bed, and Lucifer left to go to his own suite. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he ended up in his workshop sat with his head in his hands. Brick by brick thoughts built on top of each other in his mind. He worried over his daughter. Charlie didn’t need any more of this stress; she had enough to worry about with the hotel.

He stayed in that position for a little while, fidgeting with a few of the ducks that he had brought to his new room. Lifting his hand, a sigh releases from his lungs, and he watches as golden glitters fall from his palm and pile up on his desk. 

Lucifer’s ears perk up as the silent ambiance of his room was broken by a thud, and mutters from outside his door. The fallen angel shakes off the dust from his hand and throws on his overcoat before heading out his doors to investigate. Once he had got past his workshop, and outside his suite, he turned his head towards the figure that sat in the hall, and approached it quietly. As he realized who it was, he fidgeted with the lapels of his coat and stood across from her. 

“Hey..”

Tsuki looked up from her leg and to Lucifer. Her heart stutters for a moment, and rapidly beats against her chest trying to break free. Shakily, she allows her halo to return to its’ normal spot and returns his gaze with her own. 

“Hello Lucifer” 

His name left her lips bitterly as she looked up to the man, and he notably shifted from her tone. Despite this Lucifer bent down a little, and offered his hand for her to take. Reluctantly she took his hand, and stood from her spot leaving the stack to her side. 

“I left my key inside.” 

Tsuki stated the obvious, and looked away from his eyes. Her chest ached being so close to him. She wanted to run from him again. Do anything to avoid continuing this conversation. 

“So you decided to work out here?” 

Lucifer glanced down at her arranged paperwork, then returned his gaze back to her. It was obvious from the outside how exhausted she was. He felt an urgent pull within him to help smooth out her hair and pull her eyes back onto his but continued to fend it off. The guardian angel shrugged and looked past him towards the dim light that hung on the wall behind him. Deciding to bite the bullet, she asks. 

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up, but could you help me?” 

She really didn’t want to accept any help from the man in front of her, but the exhaustion that waved over her overruled the tension her heart felt. 

“Yes, but we need to talk first.” 

Is he kidding? She  returned her gaze back to the man quickly with a small glare.

“What is there to talk about?” 

Lucifer scoffs, and returns her annoyance with his own.

“Really?” 

“Alright fine, but no.” 

She understood where he was coming from, but she didn’t want to allow him to force her into a conversation like this. The King looked back to her and shook his head to rid the bubbling frustration that grew within him.

“No?” 

Lucifer looked towards her with disbelief, but Tsuki felt the string of tension that had tightened day by day finally snap as she stood her ground. Her fists clench at her sides as she keep her gaze fixed on him. 

“No, you don’t to keep me hostage like this. You don’t get to decide when we discuss this! You’re the one who left remember!?” 

She snapped back at him. She felt the overwhelming feelings that have been stirring within since the moment she saw him again fumed out of her like a flight train. Decidedly her refusal to discuss became hypocritical as words came fumbling out of her, but it was too late to turn back now. 

“You two decided to throw me to the side while you did your big plan with Eve! Was I not good enough? Did you think that I would, what? hold you back?” 

Her words chipped away his own simmering anger as Lucifer watched her expression shift. He had never seen her like this, so resentful. The wings that had folded into the back her neck flung out. Her tone brimmed over with desperation and anger as she questioned the man. 

“No! Tsuki you have to understand. We didn’t want you to try to do it yourself. It was dangerous we all knew that.” 

She laughed in disbelief. Lucifer stood in shock as he watched her shifting anger. Her eyes were frigid, and stern. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to frame himself as in the right. To her, in the moment, it really didn’t matter why they did what they did. 

“Really? Because it seemed pretty fucking easy for you to ditch me. Isn’t that what you guys always wanted to do?

She paused as she ran a hand through her hair. They had never even told her what they were planning. No one ever made her aware of what they did. 

I wandered for years, searching everywhere throughout Eden for any trace of them. I was ill with worry for the two until insecurity took over. Whispers grew louder in the back of my mind of why they could’ve left. Was I too much? Were they hurt? Was I not enough? Not worth even saying goodbye to? I couldn’t stop searching if there was any chance that thoughts that laid engraved in the back of my mind were wrong. I cared too much for them to stop.

“I couldn’t leave Eden. Do you understand how isolated I was?  Do you know how it feels to be abandoned like that?” 

Lucifer’s heart quivered from her words, and he held his wrist tight with his other hand as he waited for her to finish. She had quickly pushed herself forward till she was directly in front of the King, pointing a finger directly to his chest she looked up into his hurt eyes. 

“I felt like nothing. You made me feel worthless.” 

A long pause of silence fell between the two as she spat out her last sentence. Catching her breath as she looked away from Lucifer. Her quick beating heart suddenly felt more evident as she tried to calm herself, and the wounded expression she last saw, hurt her more than she would like to admit. 

The painful moment feels like it could last forever, but Tsuki goes to take a step back and let her hand fall from him. However, before she could go too far, he took a gentle grasp of her hand. She snapped her head back to look back at him and examined his remorseful eyes. Logic told her to rip her hand away and step back, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so.  

“I’m sorry.. We- I never wanted you to feel that way Tsuki.”

She paused. They had hurt her so badly. How could she feel so badly for him? It wasn’t fair for her. It wasn’t right. Why was her anger waning? Lucifer kept his hand around her own, and stared down at the hold. 

“It’s not the same, but I do know what it’s like to be left behind… I’m sorry that I put you through that pain.” 

What? What does he mean? Heaven maybe?

“Who-?”

“Lilith.” 

A strain pulled between the two. Lilith? No.. what? Confusion wrapped around Tsuki’s mind. That’s why she hasn’t seen her since she’s arrived. That’s why Charlie doesn’t talk about her. She knew Lilith. She wouldn’t do that. They were enraptured in love the last time she saw them; that couldn’t fade. Why would she do that? What happened? Before Tsuki could stop it the question that last built in her mind slipped through her. 

“What did you do?”

As soon as the question slipped past her lips, guilt weaved its’ way through her and she gripped his hand with her free one. If he truly felt the way that he described then she knew that he had probably asked himself that already too many times. 

“Wait I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Lucifer tried to brush off her comment as he looked away from her, and let her hand fall from his own.

“It’s okay.. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but maybe I could ask for us to be cordial? For the hotel, for Charlie?

Tsuki gave Lucifer a silent nod. Once he saw her accept his favor, his crimson eyes looked to the door past her, and with a small flick of the wrist, Tsuki’s door was open, and her paperwork was placed back onto her desk. 

“Good night then Tsuki.”

Lucifer gave her one last glance, and turned away. She remained in her place as his golden magic surrounded his figure and left nothing in his place. Her jaw clenched as she clutched the hand he touched with the other. Agony rooted it’s way to the back of her throat and her vision became blurry. 

It hurts, everything hurts. It’s not supposed to be like this. Is this pathetic? Am I pathetic? I’m supposed to hate him right? Why do I- 

Her knees felt like they could crumble underneath her as she stared off in the hallway. Deciding it wasn’t worth it to stay outside, she turned back towards the open door and took a few heavy steps through. Tsuki felt her mind going a mile a minute as she pressed forward until her eyes turned down to the crimson comforter in front of her. She placed a shaky hand onto it and pushed herself onto the bed slipping underneath cool sheets. Her eyes were on the ceiling as she tried to calm the burning that wouldn’t leave her throat.

If everything he said was true, where was Lilith? How long has she been gone? 

Tsuki gripped and pulled the hair on the back of her neck as an attempt to soothe herself. 

Eventually, after a few hours, she was able to fizzle down the fire in her throat, and rubbed away the tears that flooded her eyes. She fell underneath her weighted eyelids, and the cozy comforter that wrapped around her lulled her further slowly, drifting away until she had to face Lucifer once again the next morning.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #fanfiction #hazbin hotel lucifer #fem reader #self insert #angst

[emeritus-fuckers]

1. Would you say you're more likely to be a Sibling of Sin or a Ghoul? Why?

I see myself being both a Sibling and a Ghoul. I'm very reserved and silent when I first meet people but once I know them enough I become very open, eccentric and loud, Im a very hypersexual person and im open with friends so I see myself fitting in with the ghouls, I can be 'feral' at times.

2. Which Papa would you prefer to work with? Why? (Sister Imperator is included)

Terzo or Copia, I am very sexual and provocative so I think we would work together well, but I love rats, and juice and enjoy showing off the sweet side of myself

3. Are you an introvert, ambivert or an extrovert? Tell us a bit more about it.

Ambivert; as stated earlier if I don't know you I won't interact with you a lot or talk but once we know each other ill talk about anything really

4. What chore do you like the most/hate the least?

Like; barely any but I suppose sorting items and cooking if you count that?

I hate cleaning.

5. Do you like to travel, or maybe you prefer to stay at home?

Ideally; going out but currently staying home as I'm working on my figure and working out

6. Freebie. You've got five sentences to tell us anything you want about you.

In a charming, artistic trans man who spends most of my day in bed but when I'm not in bed or asleep, I play games on my iPad and computer and buy things online and at thrift/op shops. I look after my cat and dog. I crochet things and go online I suppose. I also watch horror movies a lot.

The role in ministry event ended on July 20th

Your role in the Ministry is...Keeper of the Ministry’s thrift shop.

You work for Terzo. He actively encourages your hyper sexuality and provocativeness.

He gets excited when finding stuff for the shop. There are certain items, that you’ve had to tell him multiple times, are not acceptable/hygienic/appropriate to sell second hand.

All funds raised go towards the clergy.

You can sell your crochet works in the shop too.

Copia comes in a lot and you’ll often end up chatting while drinking juice boxes. He’ll ask you to crochet things for his rats. His little face when you made one of them a little hat and scarf.

He lets you visit his rats whenever you like.

Your cat and dog are welcome in the shop so they keep you company during the day.

The Ghouls love the shop, they love feeling the different materials of all the clothes you have.

Phantom gets so excited by everything he’ll literally pick each item up and try and figure out what it is/what it’s for.

~

Written by Nyx

#randodummy #ministry role event #whats my role in the ministry event #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost band x reader #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia #copia x reader #Ghoul #Ghouls #phantom ghoul

[cryingyetcourageous]

Headcanon: Essential Tremor

One of my favorite ways to make headcanons is to overanalyze canon and keep extending it to realistic conclusions. Like, Raivis shakes a lot. He's the only one I'm aware of where, rather than it being for a quick bit joke, it carries on and is seen in many interactions, even being acknowledged by other characters. It could easily be dismissed as "lol, lil scared guy is shaky, haha, he's so nervous" but guys-

He has also, canonically, had his spine crushed so severely that it's stunted his growth. Dude has nerve damage. Can you imagine what being pushed down on for centuries to the point of reducing someone's height by no less than 10 cm would do to the central nervous system? He's not scared all the time: he's got an injury-induced disability (not that shaking solely due to mental illness would be any less valid; Anxiety is a diagnosis, not a moral failure).

So, I carry that further-

In a situation like that, it makes sense that heightened emotions would worsen symptoms, but it probably wouldn't be limited to anxiety: being excited/happy or angry would exacerbate it, too. Any swing of the pendulum away from "neutral/calm" would excite his nervous system and make the shakiness more noticeable, as would physical activity. He's just as likely to shake when he's excited to see an old friend again as he is when an asshole driver nearly hits him as he's crossing the street. Positive emotions can be just as strong and, technically, just as disruptive.

But he's also found ways to manage, some healthy, some less so. At home, he probably uses a lot of wooden, metal, or plastic dishware. Personally, I lean towards him preferring wooden for bowls/plates and reusable plastic for cups... but he still has ceramic mugs. He will risk them shattering because it feels wrong to drink tea in anything else, and besides, he gets free mugs from events all the time.

He writes a bit more slowly than some people, and rather than fighting himself on trying to make smooth, coherent lines/curves, he instead "sketches" his letters. Multiple short strokes. He's tried typing instead, but for him personally, that's slower. For particularly long meetings, he does his best, but usually gets copies of notes from Liet or Eesti. (He used to make audio recordings, but between the background noise of people speaking over the presentations and the security risk, that's not a great option.)

For hobbies, he's found work-arounds. Playing the kokle is the one that took the longest to adjust to since it relies so heavily on fine motor skills, but because his tremor is usually rhythmic/consistent, he's learned to work with it so long as he doesn't play for too long, which tends to make it more exaggerated and less predictable. Crochet and knitting are much the same - short sessions with breaks. Singing isn't too affected as long as, again, he doesn't overdo it. Other hobbies aren't really impacted much.

I usually write him with a stutter, which is less because of nerves themselves and more because his voice wavers and, when it does so, he has a habit of trying to say the word/syllable again. Some sounds are more difficult than others, like "y". I don't know how to explain it except that y moves from one part of the mouth to another, and that "movement" gives a lot of room to extend too far. It also tends to be worse at the beginnings of sentences or directly after pauses. When he's really deep in thought and sort of thinking outloud, he stutters less because he's too distracted to notice his voice wavering. When he's more excited, positively or negatively, it often worsens because he's trying to get this thought/idea/feeling across and is more aware of every little "slip up" in his delivery, more likely to stumble over himself.

He's noted to have an alcohol tolerance that should be physically impossible for someone his size (40 "glasses" of alcohol. It doesn't specify kind, but regardless, that would give someone his size a BAC of 1.74 [beer] to 13.95 [spirits]). It's not a stretch to think of it as self-medicating, both in response to mental health because he has put up with so much shit jfc give him a break and also because alcohol is... a depressant! Alcohol is proven to reduce essential tremors. However, this is a very shitty fix because alcohol withdrawals significantly exacerbate them, so it's not great.

Anyways thanks for coming to my TEDtalk

#About Raivis #hws latvia #Canon: *one throw-away line about crushing* #Me: Do you mean a realistic explanation for multiple character traits? #I feel like nation healing is much like nation aging: not that reliable/consistent. Will he heal from this? Probably. #How long will it take? What national status/events will impact it? Who knows! #It definitely isn't as bad as it used to be but whether that's from physical recovery or adapting to it is impossible to say. #hetalia latvia #has rotted my brain for 13 years now #hetalia headcanons #i suffer

[horrorheroesandlore]

My Brother's Keeper (Horror WIP)

Summary

Jules Barlowe must rescue Kane, her psychic twin, from their abusive guardian and a cult that wants to use him as a vessel for their demonic god. As she fights the cult, Kane struggles to keep his own identity after a powerful, otherworldly entity attaches to him.

Characters

Jules Barlowe: Seventeen years old. Kind and maternal, and willing to do anything for her twin. Loves to crochet, and encourages Kane to rebel against the authority figures in her life. Is not above bribery to get others to do what she wants.

Kane Barlowe: Seventeen years old. A frail, sickly boy who is tormented by the things he sees because of his psychic powers. Struggles to take care of himself, often relying on Jules for support. Loves being near water, as he finds it calming.

Professor Keith James: Late 60s. Formerly Kane's therapist, he gained custody when the twins' parents died when they were 10. After gaining custody, he began using different rituals to strengthen Kane's power, uncaring of the pain, distress, and illness it causes him.

Valarie Adams: Early 50s. Security guard for an abandoned mental hospital near the Barlowe's house, and close friend to Professor James. Has acted as an aunt figure to the twins since their adoption, particularly Jules. Was the one to teach her to crochet.

Jilvorel: An otherworldly, demonic entity that has attached itself to Kane. Is believed by some to be a god who will reward those who bring him to the mortal realm with great power. In truth, all it desires is to be freed from the in-between space it has been trapped in since the cult's first attempts to summon it. Whether that means returning to its own realm or joining ours makes no difference to it.

The Shapeless Cult: A cult dedicated to bringing Jilvorel to the mortal realm in order to gain power and status. To achieve this, they seek out young psychics to raise to act as a vessel and conduit. They made an attempt once years ago, but the girl they were using seemed to have a moment of insanity and destroyed herself, leaving the ritual unfinished. Now, they wish to try again with a new, more powerful psychic, Kane Barlowe.

Settings

The Barlowe Home: Technically owned by Professor James, but the twins have free reign of the house most of the day. A very unwelcoming place with white walls and little decoration.

Rock by the Lake: A large, flat rock on the shore of a lake near the Barlowe home. Favorite hangout of the Barlowe twins, particularly Kane. Offers a clear view of the abandoned hospital across the lake.

Abandoned Hospital: A mental hospital that was once used by the Shapeless Cult to seek out psychics, as their powers often cause severe mental issues or are mistaken for mental illness. Was shut down after the cult's attempt to summon Jilvorel resulted in the deaths of all their collected psychics and many cult members. Now is a weak spot between the mortal and otherworldly realms, and gives off an energy that draws psychics to it.

#writeblr #writing #horror #horror wip #wip #demonic entity #psychic powers #tw abuse #tw self destruction #tw death #siblings #sibling relationship #motherly sister #broken brother

[iantimony]

oh god fuck lol. re-entering my "gaslight myself" era

i have my quantum final in less than a week, next week's tuesdayposting will have the results of that one...RAPIDLY approaching the event horizon where im going to have to take klonopin just to study without panicking lol

listening: still evanescence, also finished the "well there's your problem" episode on gulf state vanity projects and started the most recent one (ep 118)

reading: quantum notes :( truly endless pain. ive been trying to memorize flash cards but i think my brain is dissolving

watching: i watched a livestream of my partner's choir concert last night ... it was very nice but i wish i could have gone in person. maybe when im done with classes ill fly home early and surprise him...

playing: n/a

making: in theory crocheting the shawl still but not really. going to try and embroider more of that gift tonight because i really want to ship it out for the holidays.

BONUS: what delights have I experienced?

walking around: got back into pokego so ive been doing a lot of silly little pokemon walks

transcendence: my friend explained exactly how to calculate the matrix representations of operators and it blew my brain wide fucking open. like so THERE'S where those fucking numbers come from! well i'll be!

deliciousness: my roommate decided it is beneficial to her to cook meals for me so very frequently she serves me Delicious Food, the other night she made chicken marsala and it was very very good

very few delights this past week though. it's just been anguish. n/a for goofing, coitus, enthrallment, fellowship, amelioration, wildcard

next week's will likely be even sparser because the next few days are just going to be an endless cycle of "i need to study" -> studying goes poorly -> lying to myself that i understand the material and trying again -> i manage to study a little bit but take way too long a break -> "i need to study" ad infinum

#tuesdayposting

[orionwhispers]

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals. 

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

#tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby oneshot

[painandpleasure86]

Happy outside home

Well, I had this idea for a while and the event hosted by @deakysgurl it's the perfect opportunity to post it. It's family fluff, 1990 John with his family having a good time outside home ;) (yep, the title of this one shot is a little reference to YMBF).

You also can find this fic in AO3 here.

Word count: 1330.

Taglist: @warriorteam1924 @toomuchlove-willkillyou @lefanhere and Lizzie <3

He needed some distraction. He needed to smile, to be happy once again… At least, for a moment.

It was 1990, the recording of Innuendo was there, but he wasn’t with enough mental energy to do it. The fact to see Freddie ill just break his heart. He thought how in just 5 years his friend passed to be completely sane, touring and having the best life to be extremely thin and weak. He barely handled to record some songs.

John was at home, smoking in his garden and trying to clean his thoughts. The day was nice, cool weather, neither too hot nor too cold. The right weather to be outside and enjoy nature. Watching some trees, an idea came to his mind.

He entered to the house. His children were in the living room, having fun while they’re watching some TV. He appears suddenly there, with the widest smile that he could make.

-Do you want some bike time in family? -John asked loudly.

They were happy. Laura and Joshua ran to hug him. Robert and Michael just raised their right arms and yelled from the sofa where they were sitting.

-I think that’s a “yes” -he replied, watching to his kids hugging him.

-YES!!! -the kids replied.

-Well, I need to tell this to your mother -he said, trying to walk to be free of their embrace.

-It was your whole idea? -Michael asks.

-Yes. The day’s weather it’s nice, so I was thinking about some bike riding in a huge park.

The children were excited about this sudden idea of their father.

They left the embrace to accompany their father, to tell their plans to their mother.

Ronnie was crocheting near to the scene, so she listened to her spouse’s words.

-Ronnie, well, I think you listened… What do you think? -John asked.

She left her crochet in her lap and watched to her husband’s eyes. She sighed and watched her children’s eyes. Ronnie watched her husband’s eyes again.

-Why not? -she replied, smiling.

Everyone was happy.

The time to prepare for this sudden family activity was short, so both adults were organizing everything as fast as they could and their kids were helping them.

30 minutes later, they were leaving the house. The day was nice and perfect to ride a bike, without any doubts. Both in their respective cars, with half of their kids in each car, and bringing with them some snacks, some repellent, sunscreen and of course, the bikes. Ronnie brought the camera with her, to take some pics of this day. Both cars were going together, one behind the other.

They reached a nice and huge park with lots of trees and a road to ride bikes or walk. Both adults left the cars parked near to the park and everyone brought the bikes and the another necessary things to enjoy this afternoon.

After some minutes of walking, Ronnie found a quiet spot of the park with some trees that was near to that road. She armed the picnic. Before riding their bikes, everyone was obligated to put on some repellent and sunscreen to be safer outside, Ronnie helped to her youngest ones.

When they were already with the sunscreen and the repellent, John had an idea.

-Well, I have an idea. We can do a bike race. Who wins, decides tonight's supper. Ready?

-YEAH!!!! -his children exclaimed.

All of them, except Ronnie, were riding their bike and they started to form a straight line

The woman took them a pic riding their bikes in a straight line.

-Ready, set, GO!!! -she exclaimed.

John wasn’t going at his fullest, he left some of his kids can be “the first”, even he cheered to his youngest to ride faster.

When they were near to Ronnie, they accelerated even more to be the winner. The winner was Robert. He already was 15 years old, so he had more energy than his younger siblings. Ronnie captivated that moment with the camera.

-YEEEEEESSSSS I won bitches! -Robert exclaimed, excited, raising both arms.

-ROBERT! -Ronnie exclaimed

The teen left to ride his bike to carry it from the handlebar. Meanwhile, his siblings and his dad were following him.

-Shut up, mum, I’m not a kid anymore.

John was laughing because of this situation.

-Ronnie, relax -John said, carrying his bike from the handlebar.

-Well, can I decide the supper, no? -Robert asked

-Yes- John said- Which it’s your plan?

-Some McDonald's and go to the video game arcade to play!!

His younger siblings are extra happy and John was smiling widely.

-Your wish is our command, Rob -John said. After this afternoon having some time outside we will go to a McDonald's and to the video arcade! Now, let’s share some snacks!

The kids left the bikes on the grass, they were near to each other. They sat on the grass near to Veronica and grabbed a glass of orange juice that their mother gave to them, and they drank it quickly. John reached to the picnic site to grab a can of beer that he sneaked.

-Mum, why dad isn’t drinking juice like us? -Laura asked

-Because he’s an adult and can drink another thing if he wants.

-Can I grab a can for me, mum? -Robert asked

-You’re just 15 years old Robert, no.

-Drink a bit of mine Rob -John said, approaching Robert and extending his can of beer to his son.

Ronnie was watching to John’s eyes, a bit upset.

-Ron, he wants to taste the beer, it’s normal -John said.

Robert drank a bit of the beer and his face showed his discomfort.

-Yuck -Robert said- I don’t know why this is cool between my friends -the teen added, returning the can to his father.

-You will love it when you’re older- John added, grabbing the can, winking an eye and smiling. After those words he sat near to Robert and watched to his children- Recharge your batteries kids, we will have another bike race soon.

-Which one will be the prize? -Michael asks.

-Who wins will decide the dessert! -John turned left to see Robert’s face- Not you Rob, you stay with your mother -John whispered to his son.

Robert wasn’t pleased with that at first, but after he thought that he could eat extra snacks meanwhile his siblings were in their bikes, then he smiled.

Some minutes later, the other kids and John stood up and were ready for another race.

Veronica took another pic of her kids and her husband.

-Why Rob isn’t with us, Papa? -Joshua asked

-He decided to rest -John replied to his youngest son and after winking an eye to Robert. Robert replied with a smile.

Another race started. This time Laura won.

-YEEEEEEEEEEEEH BITCHES- she screamed happily, imitating to her elder brother.

Robert and John smiled a lot for this. Veronica was a bit worried.

-Our dessert today will be ICE CREAM!!!!! -Laura screamed, happy.

-Okie sweetie -John replied to his daughter.

All of them were in their picnic area again, leaving the bikes in a pile. John was monitoring them, from time to time, meanwhile they were eating some snacks and drinking orange juice.

After an afternoon in the park, enjoying more bike riding and the sunset, the family started to go to the cars to leave there the bikes, because it had a Mc Donalds near to the park. Meanwhile, John was like “Where did I park my car?” for a moment, until he remembered about its placement. They left the bikes tied on the rooftop of each car and walked to the Mc Donalds to eat their supper. An hour later, they ate Sundaes, and after they were to an arcade. Robert won a big price, choosing a big broccoli stuffed toy. Robert and his siblings were joking about the similarity of the stuffed toy with their dad’s hair.

The family had a beautiful Sunday. John could clean his mind for half a day. He, with his family, were happy and smiley outside home.

--------------------------------

If you enjoyed this fic, pls leave a like and/or reblog! <3 Thanks in advance for the support.

-Lily

#Deakys70Event2021 #queen fic #queen fandom #queen fanfiction #queen fluff #family fluff #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #90's john deacon #john deacon #veronica tetzlaff #robert deacon #michael deacon #laura deacon #joshua deacon #fanfic writing #fic writing #fic writer #painandpleasure86 writes #painandpleasure86 fics

[plounce]

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

#cats the musical #mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #demeter cats #bombalurina #tuggoffelees #demelurina #chirps #bird in the hand

[smmahamazing]

“I’m not gonna make you take the medicine, but it’s there.”

Ayyyy only about a month later and I finished it! At first, I was going to try and incorporate this into the CB universe, but I had a cute little canon idea for this, so I went with it! Thanks for the prompt @superpixie42 , hope you like it <3

"I'm a youkai, I don't need any human medicine. I'll be fine by tomorrow!"

'If I have to hear that sentence one more time, I'm going to explode,' Kagome thought, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

Kagome was at her wits end. It had been a long week for the group of travelers. Absolutely no news of any Shikon shards or Naraku had put a damper on everyone's mood - feuling Inuyasha's already irate grumpiness to add to the mix of emotions. To top it all off, it poured the last two days of their travel back to Kaede's village. It wasn't quite winter yet, but the temperature had begun to steadily drop, turning the once warm droplets into freezing ice water.

The chill in the rain did not deter Shippo, the youngest in their group, from deciding to play in the rain. Kagome attempted to keep him distracted and amused so that she could keep him warm and dry, away from the chilled rain. She even went as far as telling him he would regret getting soaking wet, but the young kit would have nothing to do with it, deciding that jumping in mud puddles and catching rain drops on his tongue was a far more pressing matter.

The regret came the next morning in the form of sniffling and coughing, the obvious signs of the common cold. They were still a few hours away from Kaede's village, even if they rode on Kirara and Inuyasha, respectively. She bundled the kit up in the light jacket she had brought for this trip, foregoing her own warmth, and attempted to give him a dosage of children's cough medicine that she kept stored in her first aid kit. Attempted, but not successful as Shippo refused to take the medicine.

His refusal to take the medicine wasn't a complete shock to Kagome though. She could still remember how when Souta was around Shippo's age, he would whine and moan to their mother whenever he would end up with the cold, not wanting to drink the foul liquid that paraded itself as “bubblegum” or “grape” flavored, despite the fact that it would make him feel better. Even she used to put up a fit about taking her medicine - according to Mama anyways. And Shippo was still a child, so the unwillingness to take the medicine was natural.

But then, he proudly proclaimed a single sentence that would soon become the bane of Kagome's existence. 

"I'm a youkai, I'll be better by tomorrow."

She had been giving the inu hanyou of their group the iciest of glares ever since her young kit spoke the words. This new development was all Inuyasha's fault. How many times had young, impressionable Shippo heard Inuyasha say just that? About how he wasn't a 'weak human' and would heal in less than half the time? It didn't matter that Inuyasha was talking about physical wounds and not about viral diseases. Despite their ability to heal quicker than humans, Kagome knew youkai could get a common sickness like the cold. There were plenty of times that even Inuyasha would get the sniffles after a week of crazy weather patterns. Inuyasha even had his mother's recipe for medicine that he took as a child when he was sick.

Even if youkai could recuperate from a virus faster than a human, Shippo's youki would still be too little to really help with that.

‘If only he wasn’t as stubborn as Inuyasha.’

Currently, Kagome and Shippo were hunkered down in an old, unused hut that sat towards the back edge of the village. It was a little run down; the thatching in the roof was thinned out from the weather over the years, and the reed flap that served for a door had been ripped off. Kagome took a quick trip through the well, and thanks to her mother, came back with a variety of thick comforters that she hung on the walls, serving as a makeshift door, and covering the few holes of the "windows" the hut had. There was a small fire going in the middle of the hut, working collectively with the comforters hanging from the walls to create a warm space from the colder temperature outside. Kagome still had Inuyasha's fire rat fur draped over her shoulders,  given to her when she gave up her jacket for Shippo earlier that day.

Shippo laid on a long, plump body pillow, covered in an old crochet project of Mama's. His face looked a little pained, even as he continued to shrug off any medicine Kagome tried to give to him. In his hands, he held a small plush fox toy, the "fur" striped red and white, wearing a green elf hat. It was an old Christmas toy of Kagome's that her father had given her years and years ago. Most of her old toys ended up being donated, some saved in the attic for any future grandchildren of Mama's that might come to visit. There were a few, though, that Kagome kept around her room, toys that she saved because of an extreme emotional attachment. Kagome had locked eyes at the toy fox that sat on her desk when she went home to grab all those blankets. She knew that canid youkai, like both Inuyasha and Shippo, used their sense of smell in many ways, one way using certain scents to calm themselves. Kagome knew the tiny fox would be coated in her scent from all the times she would hold it close to her - a way for her to be close to her late father - and hoped that having her scent so near him would help to speed his recovery.

She didn't know what she wanted to do more; cry or scream. Truth be told, Kagome was scared.

She was aware of how something as small as the common cold can turn into something bigger or worse. Especially in these times, with no practiced modern medicine or hospitals, it was easy for someone to succumb to illness. Especially a child like Shippo. 

And no matter how much she pleaded and yelled, Shippo would simply not take the medicine. Kagome was even able to persuade Inuyasha to make that nasty tasting antidote he had her drink back when she got sick. She had hoped that if Shippo saw that Inuyasha had made the medicine - and even armed with the knowledge that he used it on occasion as a child - he would be more inclined to take it; she wanted to use Shippo's unspoken adoration with the hanyou in her favor. But the kit would not budge.

Inuyasha could smell Kagome's rising anxiety. Hell, he could see it in her face, she was never good at hiding her emotions. He was currently seated by the door, watching the exchange between the young woman and her young kit. She was getting nowhere with the runt. Inuyasha kept his face cool and unfazed, despite the lingering guilt that had begun to seep into his chest. It wasn't hard for anyone to see where Shippo was getting his skewed ideas about youkai and illness from. Even if he was as dumb as a board, the heated glares from Kagome sure could point him in the right direction.

'Keh, it's not my fault the runt is too stubborn for his own good,' he thought. Hell, he'd even gone out of his way to collect everything he needed for his mother's antidote, a surefire cure for the little cold he had, and the runt still was refusing it.

And as every minute went by, every sniffle, every sneeze, every slightly wheezing cough caused that sour, tangy smell to seep from Kagome's pores, the one that Inuyasha hated with a passion. The damn wench was going to put herself under the weather if she didn't start taking care of herself, and Inuyasha was sure that she wouldn't until Shippo took that damn medicine.

'At least she's still wearing the fire rat.' One small victory he supposed.

"Kagome," he said, startling the young woman from her rampant thoughts. "Go down to the baba's hut and grab something to eat."

It wasn't a question, or a suggestion; it was an order. Inuyasha took on a tone of voice he used when he was serious about something. If he thought about it enough, it was the voice of an alpha talking to his pack, but that was a thought for another day.

"Inuyasha, I can't - "

"And you can grab something for Shippo while you're there. He'll want something to chase down the medicine," he said, moving from his place by the door to a spot on the opposite side of the hut, closer to both the fire and Shippo.

"I told you I'm not - "

"But what about - "

A sharp growl cut both of them off, saying in no uncertain terms that his demands were to be taken seriously. Shippo began to cough some more while Kagome continued to stare him down, challenging him. Inuyasha could have responded with a deeper growl, which would have been his original comeback, but instead he softened his gaze, to tell her without words that he could take care of the kit while she was gone.

Not like he wanted to show her he could take care of kids mind you. He was just trying to be a decent friend.

Yeah.

Understanding his good intentions - only she could read him like an open book - Kagome rose with a quick nod of her head. She whispered a few words to Shippo, a soft promise to be back with food and for him to rest, and left the hut. Inuyasha could just barely smell the salt of her tears she most likely was shedding on her way to Kaede's, finally succumbing to her distress and anxiety.

Now, the only sounds in the dilapidated hut they hunkered down in was the crackling of the fire and the faint sniffles and coughs coming from the stubborn kit laying in the most luxurious bed the kit has probably ever seen. Inuyasha wanted to strangle the runt, to beat into him with just how lucky he was to have someone like Kagome. Someone to worry about his health, to feed and shelter him - both with love and home. But Inuyasha knew that Shippo knew all these things. He knew how Shippo felt about Kagome, since she was the closest thing to a mother he'd ever have now. All of his stubbornness to not take the medicine was coming from his pride as a youkai, to reaffirm to his human mother that he was strong.

It was a feeling Inuyasha knew all too well growing up. Most of his childhood was spent proving to himself that he could survive no matter the challenge - whether from hunger, fighting demons, or surviving any encounters from humans he might come across - but it was also a feeling he experienced with his own mother before her demise. Back then, he wanted to become a strong demon, like his father, so he could protect his mother from anything. 

No matter how much Inuyasha could relate to the young kit, taking that medicine was Shippo's only option if he wanted to get better. And Inuyasha was going to be the one to make him see it.

He grabbed the cup that held the antidote and thrusted it in front of Shippo's face.

"Drink," he ordered.

"I told you I don't - "

"Yeah yeah, I know what you said, and I don't give a damn. You're gonna drink this and get better you little runt."

"But - "

"No buts!" Inuyasha slammed the cup on the ground in front of him, a bit of medicine spilling onto the ground from the jarring movements. "Do you have any idea how worried Kagome is about you? This cold may be messing with your nose, but mine sure as hell works fine, and even a low class youkai could smell the anxiety coming off her. I know you're trying to show off to everyone, to show them you can handle something like this, but you're still just a kid. So you need to quit being a pain in my ass and let Kagome take care of you properly."

Silence once again filled the hut. Shippo stopped coughing, but Inuyasha could hear the sniffling of an almost crying child.

"Is….is she really that worried about me?" He asked, burrowing even farther into the blankets and pillow he rested on. Inuyasha didn't answer him, simply standing from his spot on the ground and moving towards the door.

"I'm gonna go help Kagome grab the food. I'm not gonna make you take the medicine, but it's there. You can either take it and get better to show Kagome the kind of youkai you'll grow up to be, or you won't." Without another look, Inuyasha lifted the heavy blanket and exited the hut.

He wasn't far from the hut when he swore he heard the sound of his young pup grimacing from the less than stellar taste of his mother's special cold medicine.

#inuyasha #kagome #shippo #prompt writing #inuyasha fanfic

[pbandjesse]

Guess who did not sleep well last night!! It was me!! I couldnt fall asleep at all until like 3 and then I woke up every time James moved or their was a sound. It was terrible. When James woke me up at 8 apparently I gave him such a scowl he just put the blanket over me and let me sleep another hour. 

I didnt feel great. But I shook it off eventually. I actually felt pretty good overall today. I got up and got dressed and felt really cute. James made me a sandwich. It was a good morning. 

I worked on art a lot today. Just a little of a few different projects. It was really nice. James went for a bike ride and I just worked in the studio and it was good. People really responded to my bear print and so I opened up commissions for that. And I have sold two prints! I had a really nice time making the prints though and because Im using paint I had to make a line to hang the prints from. It was a fun morning. 

I played a little animal crossing. Not much work to do anymore so I just checked in, fished for a little, and then back to art. 

We got 4 packages in the mail today! It was very exciting. I got a bear that James bought for me. And my new crochet hooks came! And sweetp's christmas fish. And our allergy medication. It was like chirstmas all over again. 

When James got home we decided we would go for a walk by the water in the park near Johns Hopkins. He got cleaned up and we headed out. Took the clothes down we were donating and took our recycling so we could make a stop at the center. And we lucked out that there was no line when we headed over there. 

I had a nice time walking around the park. This one is much more rugged and I was glad I actually wore my boots. We saw a hawk drop some prey and so James wanted to go try and find what they dropped. But no luck. It was just really beautiful though. I had a great time and we even found some shells and a toy truck? Crazy. 

I got a little overheated because I had a jacket over my sweater so we headed back towards the car. Stopped at burger king for a late lunch, and headed home. 

We ate in the living room. Watched some videos. And then we hung out. I eventually worked on some more art. Laid in the dungeon while James played games. It was a nice day. 

I took my nail polish off since it was so chipped. Maybe Ill try again. I laid on the couch and James rode over to the grocery store to get some stuff for his falafel dinner he was planning. When he got back and started working on that it smelled so good in here and tasted even better. I am so lucky to have him and that he cooks so well. 

I have been hanging out watching videos for a while while James was on a call with his friends. They are going to start a new monster game together. It will be fun to listen to. He asked if I wanted to play but I just dont think I can do it.  Thats okay. 

I am hoping to sleep better tonight. Wish me luck. It hasnt been going well!! Ugh. Goodnight everyone! 

[thedappleddragon]

omg today seemed SO LONG

we all had to wake up early to visit grandparents, so my sister woke me up at like 8 but I went back to sleep. in my dream I was part of the theater program or something, and I started shaving my head. I realized too late that if I had started on the sides, I could have a cool undercut so I said “ok lets try that again ill be right back guys” and quit the game without saving. the second part of my dream took place at school in a classroom for bring your parents to school day or something. my lovely asian mom and dad were very polite, but suddenly my dad turned to me and said “run. run away immediately as fast as you can, dont bother putting your cup down just go” and I ran out the door. my shoes were covered in pink and green pain, and the floor was checkered pink and green so I had to step on the right colors so they couldn’t track my footprints. I had to find a bathroom to be my new home so they couldn't find me, but I took a wrong turn and ended up in the maze of a counselor’s office. I knew they all saw me so I ran into the library but my principal was right beside me. idk what happened next, other than m sister waking me up and recounting the events of the dream to myself.  ooh I forgot to mention yesterday but I made a dumb tiktok with my fursuit and it’s giving A LOT MORE TRACTION THAN I ANTICIPATED. it’s fast approaching 6000 views, 1400 likes, and a handful of comments. so far still no hate comments tho. and I gained just. way too many followers. anyway I split a bagel with my brother for breakfast before we left, and we spent over an hour at my grandparents’ house. my oldest brother and his girlfriend left to quickly visit a friend and then get ready to drive back to Michigan before flying out tomorrow back to Washington, so we waved goodbye and went out separate ways. I helped my mom get gas and 5 guys while my brother drove my sister to work, and we ate together and talked for a bit. he had a little work to do and an online meeting to attend so I played started valley until he was done. we hung out for a moment making awkward conversation because we both have different flavors of diet autism, but he had stuff to do and a book to read so I played stardew again and watched tiktoks until it was time to pick up my sister from work. then he talked too loud in the car about smart things I dont understand but also neutodiverse stuff I did understand and talked about shitty people at my sister's work until we got home. we hung out for a bit until he had to get ready to leave so he could get back to college in time to sleep for classes tomorrow, so we hugged him goodbye. I played stardew again, making good progress in skull cavern with less stress this time. I got down past floor 50! wow! I only got like 15 iridium tho, even on a good luck day. oh well. I took a break in the middle to eat and watch a little tv with my dad before he hit the hay. I want to play more, but I also want to go to bed early after getting up so early this morning and I dont want my eyes to start hurting from too much screen time and concentration. also I'd probably end up hurting my back or neck. so yeah it can't just wait until tomorrow lol. my friend asked if I was taking commission on crocheted stuffed animals, which made me feel pretty dang confident :) I wasn't sure how much to charge, but I saw a tiktok about a crocheter selling her work for one cent per stitch, and I thought “that sounds reasonable I guess?” so I counted up how many stitches the pattern called for and it was only $18 and som change. for some reason I was bumping up the worth in my head to like double that oops :x so I rounded up and offered $20 and they sad yes. tbh I wonder if I should have asked for more? but ya know what, whatever. friend discount. I dont have a job or spend money so I have no sense for monetary worth oops. I’M SO DETACHED FROM SOCIETY I’M SORRY WSEDFGHJB I just want to go back to talking to people every day... my friends dont have nearly enough zoom calls........... ;-; whatever I guess I'll try to go to bed now. good night mwah <3 

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #march 2021 daily #2021 daily #AH SHIT I said I was gonna throw some money someone's way in the tags of a reblog a could nights ago and I still haven't acted on it #I feel a little bad...... #I'll do it eventually #also in my dream I had asian parents even tho I'm white irl?? idk man

[lycorogue]

Amelia and Trish🌺💐

Awww, yay! Someone sending me an ask from a list! 😍 I get these so rarely. This is such a fun treat! Thank you! (For anyone wondering, the “Soft OC Ask” master list can be found here.)

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

Funny enough, the answers to most of these questions more-or-less happened canonically within the X-Future roleplay, so these are fairly easy to answer. Since each question is actually a series of related questions, and this ask is for two of my OCs, this got a bit lengthy. You can read my reply below the break.

Lia: 🌺 When Lia was a toddler, her mother crocheted her a little stuffed Calcifer the flame from Howl’s Moving Castle. Lia still has this stuffed Calcifer and cuddles it whenever she’s super stressed or awakes from a nightmare. If she feels she’s failing at reaching her true potential with her powers or as a leader, she goes to the X-Men archives of her mother’s training and watches those. If anything, doing so makes her feel worse because it makes her feel even more inadequate and tears at her grief of not knowing what happened to her mom, but neither fact stops her from doing so. Alternatively, if she’s stressed about generic Teenage DramaTM, she usually storms off to be alone, literally burning off some steam as she rages with her powers once she knows she’s in a safe location where she won’t permanently damage anything. As a child, she would also come to her dad (who was literally never too far from her at any given time, thanks to his powers; he was the ultimate helicopter parent) if a situation was too big for her to handle by herself. As a teen, she tends to vent to either her then-boyfriend-now-ex-but-still-friend Chayse, or her roommate Willow, or her current boyfriend Ripley. If it’s something minor that she needs to work out, she’ll sneak off to dance; just to get the positive energy flowing again.

💐 As the “mom friend”, Lia is much better at playing nurse than being nursed. Although, she is a bit naïve when it comes to emotional/mental-health support. She tries, but usually falls a touch short when trying to help out in those matters. She’s much better at nursing physical illnesses or injuries because she can study the most effective ways to heal those. When she’s the one sick or injured, though? She gets antsy if she’s forced to rest up in bed, especially if she feels like it’s overly cautious for her to do so. Now, if she’s majorly sick or in pain, she will gladly hide under her covers and ignore the world exists. Anything short of “OMG, I’m dying”? And she’ll fight bedrest tooth and nail. Her father is the #1 person to care for her, but since attending the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Jamie has allowed Lia’s roommate and friend Willow to take on the role of primary caregiver, with Lia’s boyfriend Ripley on stand-by to tag in. If neither of the teens are willing or able, though, Jamie will gladly jump back in to take care of Lia. Aside from being antsy and a bit whiny about being forced to stay in bed (if she’s feeling alright), Lia does accept being cared for fairly gracefully. She’ll comment it’s unneeded and that her caregivers should focus on “more important things” since she’s clearly “fine”, but will still gladly accept the soup, extra blankets, pillow fluffing, and so on. She’s a bit more grumbly if she’s recovering from an injury because she hates feeling helpless or weak in that regard.

----------------------------

Trish: 🌺 Trish HAAAAAAATES showing any kind of weakness AT. ALL. So she does NOT go to anyone for comfort when she’s feeling overly stressed or scared. The exception is MAAAAAAAAYBE Pyro if she is majorly shaken about something. She hates seeming weak and immature in front of Pyro, though (and hates adding to the father-daughter dynamic when she wants a lovers one instead), so there has to be something TRAUMATIZING to her before she goes to even him for comfort. Otherwise, she turns her fear into anger and rage. She’ll run the training obstacle courses to the point of exhaustion, just to give her mind something else to focus on, and something to aim her powers at. She overcomes fear by adding to the façade that she’s completely fearless. She allows adrenaline to completely over-ride her fear as she almost always goes for a “Fight” response. As for nightmares, she’ll usually calm herself down by playing with her butterfly knife; something else to focus on until she forgets the nightmare. She’ll also calm herself down with a shower, especially if she’s covered in sweat from the nightmare. She’ll chant to herself, “it’s not real. It wasn’t real. Ignore it” until the nightmare is forgotten or no longer intense enough for it to affect her.

💐 Trish is a TERRIBLE patient. She’s even more antsy and stubborn than Lia. Being sick or injured enough to be bedridden is a sign of weakness, and she CANNOT be weak for Pyro. The only time she’ll submit and actually listen to instructions to rest up is if Pyro himself tells her to do so. She’ll also gladly ravish the attention if Pyro is the one nursing her back to health. She’d even milk it, just to be doted on further by him. Otherwise, lord help the person playing caregiver. She will stubbornly battle them every step; again, only complying when Pyro tells her to behave. Once her roommate Nyssa was forced to play nursemaid when Trish was badly injured by a shrapnel blast. Trish was like an injured feral creature the whole time, snarling at Nys and trying to swat her away; claiming to be healed further than she was. Nyssa practically had to have Pyro there at every bandage changing to force Trish to accept the treatment. The major exception to all of this is a mutant vigilante Trish simply calls “Stranger” since he’s never given her his name. He was hunting down the anti-mutant terrorist group The Purifiers, and stumbled upon a few that were teaming up against Trish. He saved her, but she was still wary of him; attempting to leave him to the Purifiers so she could escape. When the escape plan failed, and he saved her a second time, she was more welcoming to him attempting to help patch her up (if nothing else, she didn’t want to worry Pyro by coming home injured again). They have since met up a couple of times to hunt down more Purifiers together; helping with Trish’s bloodlust and Stranger’s want of revenge against the Purifiers for murdering his whole family in front of him and leaving him for dead. They have an uneasy bond, and Trish wouldn’t go to him if she were sick, but if she were injured she might seek him out just so she had someone she trusted moderately to care for her without feeling like a burden on Pyro. As for Trish being the caregiver? HA! She is absolute trash at caring for anyone other than herself and Pyro. Exceptions being Stranger - she would tend his wounds as well so she didn’t lose her partner in these non-Brotherhood excursions - and anyone that Pyro asked her to care for. If it’s a request from Pyro, she’ll do the bare minimum to satisfy the request, and grumble about it the whole time. Even when caring for Stranger, she’d spend the whole time bitching at him for being so “careless” as to be injured in the first place (ignore that this also implies that she’s careless whenever she gets injured).  For Pyro, though? She’d go full on Florence Nightingale and dote on him every waking moment.

----------------------------

Okay! I think that’s everything! This was fun. Thank you so much for the ask. I hope you got to learn a bit more about my OCs.

Also, I’d like to note that Stranger is one of my husband’s OCs named Jack Knoife (yes, the name is a pun. Yes, Jack is Australian. Yes, Hubby leaned hard into the classic Marvel naming tropes)

Anyway, if anyone else wants to learn more about my OCs (or if you’d like to learn more, @doesnotloveyou ), feel free to drop me an ask. 😁

#writing #LycoRogue writing #LycoRogue ask #doesnotloveyou #OCs #Soft OCs Ask #Lia Madrox #Trish Morrison #both fire users #might explain the hatred for bedrest #dealing with being scared #dealing with being bedridden #long post #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK! #<3

[whatdoyouthinkmyjobis]

Hunters on the Hellmouth

masterlist

first chapter

previous chapter

TW: Inspired by events in BTVS 7.16 “Storyteller” and BTVS 7.22 “Chosen.” Discussions of miscarriage and abortion. Here’s a cheat sheet for keeping track of the Potentials.

Chapter 41: The Witch

DAY 1

Giles had seen Buffy’s heart break many times, but when Dean disappeared mid-kiss, Giles knew this time she might break in two.

Go to her. Go to her. Despite the urging of his heart, Giles did not break from the crowd gathered on Buffy’s front stoop. Shame froze him. He had been afraid to chase her when she had withdrawn weeks ago, apparently burdened by her secret pregnancy. Afraid to ask. And when the whole house had turned their backs on her, he’d gone along with them.

There Buffy stood -- barely a day post-demon possession -- suddenly alone.

Go to her. Go to her.

Dawn brushed past Giles and the Potentials to hold her sister’s hand and whisper in her ear.

Buffy, dry-eyed with her face set firm, turned to them and said, “Let’s hit the books. We need to focus on Caleb.”

“Excuse me?” asked Dani. “Dean was in charge, and now he’s gone. We should hold a vote.”

“No need,” said Giles, enjoying the flutter of rage across the girl’s face. “Buffy’s in charge.”

“I didn’t hear Dean say that,” she retorted.

“He didn't have to,” said Dawn with her chin held high.

“Buffy’s in charge,” repeated Betje as other voices joined the chorus.

Giles turned back into the house with a knot of Potentials in his wake. He had no idea what to do about Caleb or even if he was still alive after the fire, but Buffy needed focus. He was halfway up the stairs to grab research materials when he came barrelling back, nearly running Spike over.

“Oi! Watch it. Don’t damage the goods,” Spike said, rubbing his chest suggestively.

“It’s you! You’re the key!” Giles said, eagerly.

“Key? ‘Aven’t ‘eard that in a while.”

Ideas and memories flashed in Giles’ head faster than he could capture them. The First -- Lucifer -- had been chasing them for months because the first creature it had met in this world was Spike. But why did an archangel care about what a vampire thought was important? “The First spent weeks with you. What did it want?”

A twinge around Spike’s eyes betrayed his feelings about that time. “Information. Basic Sunnydale Who’s Who and What’s What.”

“But did it try to get in you? Read your mind or possess you?” Gabriel and Castiel had traveled through dimensions in their vessels; Lucifer had not.

“Night I ran into it ‘twas just a light, but it shot through me, jumped out looking like ‘er,” he said, pointing at Buffy as she entered the house.

“Got an idea?” Buffy asked. She still held her sister’s hand while Xander and Anya flanked her.

“Vessels,” said Giles. “It’s literally been staring us in the face this entire time. Lucifer needs a vessel. He wants Sam. He tried Astrid. There are very few options here for demons, let alone an archangel.”

“So he tried to use Spike,” she said with a quiet horror.

“But Spike didn’t give his permission--”

“--so Lucifer was ejected.”

“I ‘ad an angel in me?!” Spike curled his lip in disgust. “Now I need to shower.”

The idea seized Giles, his voice loud as he paced in the foyer. “What if, Lucifer found another vessel? Inferior, but enough to give him some form. Not a vampire because they are already possessed by demons, and obviously not the Slayer.”

“A witch!” Xander exclaimed with a giant smile. “They’re the only other group that can be possessed!”

Dawn raised an eyebrow at him. “You’d think you’d be less excited with your best friend being a witch and all.”

“Not possessable!” he cheered, pointing at himself with his thumbs. “For once, the Zeppo has the superpower!”

“Maybe that’s why he didn’t die,” Buffy muttered.

“What?”

“I, um, I got to Caleb at the winery,” she explained, the tiredness settling into her eyes. “Shoved my sword in and did not take home a prize.”

“I had the same reaction when you stabbed me,” Anya stated proudly, “and that was after Sam shot me in the head.”

“You two,” said Giles pointing at Buffy and Spike, “tell me everything about your interactions with Lucifer and Caleb. We’ll go back through everything again. If we want to kill Caleb, we need to cut off the power source.”

Barely half and hour back in her house without Dean, and between the walls, the air, and the constant jostling of bodies, Buffy was going to explode. “I’m going to check on Will and our new  guests. Dawn, Anya, see if the girls need anything, and I’ll do a supply run.”

“You mean ‘we,’ oh carless one,” said Xander, happily closing his book.

“You, me, and vampire-infested buildings.” She flashed a lucky us grin. Just like old times. “Grab a couple of the better fighters to go with us. ”

Upstairs, she cracked open Willow’s door to find her still sleeping off her possession by Hecate. Buffy sneaked inside, hoping to find a few of Tara’s clothes for Ellen.

Willow stirred and muttered, “Sam?”

Crouching by the bed, Buffy brushed her friend’s hair from her eyes. “Just me.”

“Where’s Sam?” Her voice was soft and small. Tender, sleepy Will without a hint of terrifying goddess.

Buffy smiled tightly. “He came down after you fell asleep.” Willow needed to rest; she would break the news about the Winchesters later.

Jo was considering changing into a skirt when her mother, wrapped in a towel, ducked into the bedroom. “I don’t think anything in here will fit you, Mom.” Jo pointed at the flood-high hem of the jeans she’d put on.

Ellen smiled, a far away look in her eye. “Not sure my skin could handle clothes right now anyway.”

“Aren’t you cold?” Jo had turned the water up as hot as she could, but it still felt icy. The flannel she’d found barely helped.

Ellen nodded and sat on the bed. “Everything just kinda feels… sharp. Hard.”

Jo sat beside her. She knew exactly what her mother meant. Only a little noise from downstairs breached the quiet bedroom, but Jo had felt a roar in her ears since they’d arrived. She remembered holding her own guts in with her hands, growing cold and numb as blood gushed from her body. Her brave mother had offered to set off an explosion to save the Winchesters, their only hope at killing the Devil. Jo didn’t remember the explosion. Then nothing. Only it wasn’t nothing, but she was having a bitch of a time remembering what had happened. Then suddenly they were in someone’s backyard in the blazing sun.

“I died, didn’t I?” Jo whispered.

Ellen squeezed her hand. “We both did, baby.”

Jo let the words dissipate in the air. She couldn’t think about them now. Maybe not even later. So she looked around the room, trying to figure out what sort of person it belonged to.

Brown floral wallpaper and crochet pillows gave it the feel of an older woman’s room. The tangles of cheap jewelry on the dressing table, clothes strewn across the floor, and posters -- reproductions of Waterhouse paintings -- screamed college student.

Then Jo spotted an unbelievable picture from the nightstand. Dean Winchester in sunglasses and a t-shirt, his radiant smile highlighted by the sun, stood on a boardwalk, ocean behind him, with his arms around the blonde they’d spoken to.

“Mom, what was that girl’s name again?”

“Buffy? Bitty? One of those country club names.”

“She doesn’t seem like Dean’s type,” she said, handing the picture to her mom.

Ellen beamed. “They look happy.”

Jo snickered. Dean Winchester was the handsomest, cockiest hunter she’d ever met, and she had spent years pining after him. Nothing obvious. Sneaking glances when he’d come in the bar. Calling every few months to check in on him, his husky rumble making her melt as she kept the conversation light and friendly.

Trouble was, Dean was like most hunters. Emotionally distant. Messiah complex. Can’t-get-close-to-people bullshit. Jo wanted him, but she wanted him to settle down. She wanted his big heart to find a home, to trade in the revolving door of women for one woman who knew his life and his worries.

Even though he had often checked out her ass, Dean hadn’t had the guts to make a move until the day before she died. Even then, knowing it may be her last opportunity to sleep with that beautiful man, she couldn’t bring herself to be a desperate pity fuck.

It took her dying for him to be real with her. She had no idea how long she’d been dead, but his soft, warm lips gently apologizing for her fate as he finally kissed her was practically yesterday.

“Happy? Mom, we’re talking about Dean Winchester. Didn’t you say he was trouble to the core?”

“I said he was troubled. Boy ain’t had an easy life.” Ellen pushed her damp hair back and squinted at her daughter. “I also said he wasn’t for you.”

Ellen wrapped her arm around her daughter, combing her hair with her fingers. It felt familiar and surreal at the same time, like discovering everything in your house had been painted the same shade of sickly pink.

“You okay, baby girl?”

“I will be. I don’t remember living being so exhausting.”

There was small knock at the door before Bitty/Buffy came in with an unconvincing smile on her face. She handed Ellen a green skirt. “I hope it fits. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty damn good for a dead woman,” said Ellen. “That don’t seem to phase you any.”

“Read the book and saw the movie.” The blonde scanned Jo. Her eyes lit up for a brief second when she saw the ill-fitting flannel. “Well, that’s a look. I could see if one of the taller girls has pants you could wear, but pickin’s are slim. Probably best we head to the mall. You can join us if you feel up to fighting.”

Jo did feel like fighting. Something in her felt caged and angry, but she didn’t know why. Although she doubted patrons at a crowded mall would appreciate her need to punch something. “Pants would be great, but cash is not so great.”

“Oh, oh yeah. Quick recap, (because my sister has this whole ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ speech, and I don’t want to step on her thing): Welcome to Sunnydale, California. This town sits on a Hellmouth, which I guess you call a Devil’s Gate. Lucifer and his minions have driven out the entire town save for a few people on my team. Anyone else who stayed has been turned into a vampire.” She breezed through all of this lightly, as if it was a rundown of what she’d done over the summer.

“So we’re less about the shopping and more about the pillaging supplies from a vampire-infested abandoned mall. Which is where the do-you-feel-like fighting thing comes in. Bobby Singer is downstairs if you have more questions. Let me know in an hour if you want to go.”

Bitty/Buffy stopped her hasty exit when Jo asked, “Where are Dean and Sam? Things are kinda fuzzy, but I swear I saw them.”

“They had to go,” the blonde said without looking back.

Spike was confused. He hated being confused. The Winchesters (and the angels) were gone, caught a feathery red eye to destiny. He’d seen it happen.

But who were the new people?

Granted, he was used to new faces showing up out of the blue, but Potentials were not generally grizzled long-haul truckers. The man was mostly interested in the books and Giles, but he still gave Spike that sleeps-with-a-gun feel that Dean had. By the time Buffy came downstairs with two women who were probably and certainly not Potentials, he was ready for some answers.

Abandoning Giles and his endless questions, Spike followed the three women, Xander, and some Potentials outside. “Where we going?”

Buffy turned to look at him. Suddenly, he was reminded what it felt like to have your heart thrill so much, it forgets its beat. Only a day before, she’d appeared as a demon and beaten him soft. Now, she was practically radiating light.

“You up for some shopping?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Could do with some new boots.”

“So could some of the girls. Plus, Jo and Ellen are going to need some clothes.”

Spike nodded at the mysterious Jo and Ellen. “I’ll drive.” He held up the Impala keys he’d nabbed from the key tray.

Although Spike longed to drive Dean’s Impala since first laying eyes on it, he’d mostly picked up the keys as a gag. Show Buffy the keys. See what she did.

A disproportionate panic swept over her face. Eyes wide, she shook her head in tight nos.

She doesn’t think he’s coming back.

Before Buffy could protest and before Spike could toss her the keys, Xander butted in. “Drive what?”

Buffy crossed her arms. “He thinks he’s driving Dean’s car.”

“Funny,” said the blonde -- Jo or Ellen? “You’re not what I would have expected Dean’s best friend to look like. I mean, he barely let’s Sam drive that thing.”

The stranger scratched at her arm like the very air bothered her and squinted at the sun with disapproval. She had a nervous, trapped energy about her. It felt familiar to Spike.

Xander laughed. “Dean and Spike get along like oil and water if oil and water were trying to murder each other.”

“Yet you’re the one with a Winchester wallop.” Spike pointed at the purple bruise on Xander’s jaw.

“I can fit four.” Xander slinked away, tail between his legs.

Having no desire to stress Buffy out, Spike tossed her the keys. “Just ‘aving a laugh, pet.”

Buffy tenderly held the keys for a heartbeat before handing them to the older woman. “Ellen? We just need to follow the other cars.”

“Sure, honey. Something normal sounds pretty good right now.”

The four of them silently piled into the Impala -- Ellen and Buffy in the front. Jo shooting Spike curious side-eye across the expanse of the backseat. It was mid-April, yet Ellen cranked up the heat.

After a few turns, Buffy cracked her window. “It fades after a while. The cold.”

Jo peeled her dark eyes off of Spike. “What are you talking about.”

“It was warm, wasn’t it?” Buffy sounded far away. “It was warm and quiet. Now everything feels cold and loud and painfully bright. I won’t motivational poster you and say it gets better, but the intensity fades.”

“How do you know?” Jo asked.

“It’s been two years for me,” Buffy replied. “More for Spike.”

Recently resurrected then? Seeing Jo’s twitching discomfort in the daylight had thrown him. Since they knew the Winchesters, they must have been resurrected and brought here by the angels. The trucker-looking fellow was probably the same story. Sam and Dean’s parents? They had never mentioned a sister; although they’d dropped the news of another brother like a bomb only a couple days before.

Jo’s body loosened a bit, as if the intense fight or flight warring in her brain had finally settled on sitting. She looked out the window on the abandoned town. A few buildings here and there had been damaged by vampires, who were no doubt nesting inside during the day, but most were simply abandoned. “A lot of people die here?”

“Part of the human condition,” Spike said. “Only, sometimes it doesn’t take.”

They pulled up to the mall. Ellen, examining the smashed glass doors, said, “Mind if I just play getaway driver? This skirt ain’t exactly made for kickin’ ass.”

Buffy shrugged. “There’s a learning curve, but sure. We won’t be long.”

Buffy issued orders to the small band of Potentials who’d arrived in the two other cars. “There are probably dozens of vampires hiding in there, but lucky for us most of them are asleep. So stay quiet and don’t wander off. We’re in and out. Remember,” she said, handing a stake to Jo, “anyone who’s not us gets a stake through the heart.”

With a small grin, Jo twirled the stake in her fingers. “A stake? Next you’re going to tell me they’re repelled by garlic and crosses.”

“They are,” said one of the Potentials, eagerly.

“I just feel extra stabby today, though,” said Buffy.

“I can get behind that,” Jo muttered.

Inside, there was a shoe store immediately to their right. Buffy pointed at Xander and his carload to break off while she led Jo, Spike and the rest to The Gap.

With no concern for style or sizes, everyone began to shove clothes into their bags. Jo was pulling jeans from the shelf when a man walked out of the dressing room.

“Want to try something on?” he asked with a hungry smile.

Buffy lept between them. One, two kicks in the face. Suddenly, he was snarling and yellow-eyed. Buffy hooked his head with her heel, yanking him to the ground. She plunged the stake into his heart.

Jo seemed most surprised when the vampire turned to dust.

“Makes clean up easy, doesn’t it?” Spike whispered in Jo’s ear. “Think we got time to hit up the food court?”

DAY 2

Dean rolled over, seeking out Buffy’s warmth, and curled his body around hers. His morning hardness grew firmer as he pressed against her backside. Barely awake, he nibbled her neck, his fingers stumbling to find a way under her pajamas.

Buffy sighed, “We don’t have time, baby.”

“I miss touching you.”

“You don't want to be late for our big day.”

Everyone in the Winchesters’ apartment was up just before sunrise. Buffy could feel the reason for her sleeplessness flipping in her stomach and pounding behind her eyes. With barely a word between them, the group stumbled to Dean’s Impala and drove back to the Summers’ house.

Willow sat on the back porch with a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. Dean’s family and Dawn headed inside while Buffy grabbed a chair by her friend.

“Here to rouse the troops? We’re fresh outta bugles.”

“Nah. Let ‘em sleep.” Buffy had pushed them to the breaking point the last time they attacked Caleb, and they still failed. A few more hours of sleep wouldn’t be the deciding factor next time.

“Feeling better, Will?”

“You mean, do I not feel like I’m made of lightning, or am I okay with this being the vessel for the goddess of witchcraft thing?”

“The former, the latter will be...latter.”

“Just Willow here. Singular and non-floaty.” She gulped the last of her coffee and stared at the bottom of the cup, divining nothing. “I think that happened before. The vessel gig.”

The only time Buffy had seen anything close to that was when black-eyed, veiny, dark Willow tried to destroy the world after Tara’s death. She hoped that wasn’t one of Hecate’s faces.

“Remember the night Dawn was attacked in the house, and Lucifer came to me dressed up as Tara?”

Buffy nodded.

“I blacked out. Whited out? The last thing I remember was this growing light. Then I woke up in a burned circle of grass. I had no idea what happened, but I think since Lucifer was trying to get me to kill myself, Hecate came to my rescue.”

“Maybe that’s why he targeted you?”

Willow’s doe-eyes were heavy with thought. “Maybe. I’m not sure how I feel about housing something the Devil is scared of. That’s not usually the plot in a rom com or plucky musical.”

With a sleeping goddess in her and her boyfriend capable of hosting an archangel, this was the only topic that could direct Buffy away from her concern for Dean. “Maybe don’t think of it as being taken over. What if Hecate is like Cinderella, and you’re her slipper?”

“No one wants to grow up to be the shoe in that story.”

Buffy shrugged. “More terrible metaphors are in the works. They’re my favorite past time as of yesterday.”

Willow eyed her with a frown. “You miss him?”

Snuggled in his t-shirt in his bed, she’d lain awake reminding herself Dean was the best hunter alive. Alive. The few moments she managed to sleep, she had dreamed of his fingers in her hair, his breath tickling her skin. “Of course!”

“‘Cause you guys were kinda on the outs for a while, then one possession and you’re back to being joined at the hip.”

Buffy picked at some flaking paint on her chair, and mulled over how much she was willing to expose. Everyone save Giles was probably just as confused, but her pain wasn’t a balm to soothe a itch of curiosity.

“I was going through something, and I didn’t know how to talk with him about it.”

“You know who is always up for a talk? Your neighborhood Willow, located conveniently down the hall. We’ve been through a ton of stuff, Buffy. I don’t understand why you didn’t think you could talk to me.”

Willow liked Buffy’s relationship with Angel when it was a crush, but had turned against it and her once it became deadly serious. Her friend didn’t understand how being alive again was a curse and how that despair drove her to Spike. How could she expect Willow, in the midst of both mourning and sorting out her sexuality, to carry any of the pregnancy weight?

“I don’t think we fixed us,” Buffy said.

“What?”

“You went dark, Willow. Really dark. By the time you came back, Dean and Sam were here, and it felt easy to just move on. I did the eggshell walk for a little bit, but mostly I was wrapped up in Dean. Maybe I never got off the eggshells, because it didn’t feel right to dump this on you.”

Tears welled in Willow’s eyes. “I know we can’t go back. I can never make it up to you--”

“You don’t have to make up!” Buffy grabbed her friend’s hand and squeezed. “What we need is time. You and me. Maybe Xander, but definitely you and me. Hey, how about we do some sort of road trip, huh? The three of us? After we bag the Devil, the girls deal with things while we have much needed friend time.”

Willow nodded and offered a weak smile. “Will you ever tell me what happened?”

“Later. Now is for coffee,” Buffy said as she headed inside.

Bobby was used to research. Piles of yellowing books, strong coffee, and a sore back were his preferred methods of learning. Much better than the knock-in-the-teeth experience style. Although, Andrew and Dawn’s “Welcome to Sunnydale” basement conference has been some of the most informative hours of his life.

For instance, everyone was making their fight harder by not differentiating demons from monsters. Anya -- defensive in a way that people with secrets are -- had insisted that a creature born on earth and with no dealings with the soul or Hell was still a demon. Bobby had some theories he wanted to test before he took her word. He’d picked up from Andrew’s nervousness and constant invocation of heroic stories that the boy felt he needed to redeem himself for something. Dawn’s swings between pride and shame when talking about her sister -- Buffy the Vampire Slayer -- had tipped him off that something was wrong. Later, when Buffy gently insisted they all travel back to the Winchesters’ apartment at night instead of staying in her own, or one of the nearby houses, made it evident that everyone in that house had betrayed her.

Recently.

Bobby would get to the bottom of everything eventually, but first, he had to survive the Apocalypse. As luck would have it, he had a book for that.

While Bobby knew better than anyone that this fight turned fresh-faced kids into battle-scarred husks faster than anything, he struggled to call anyone in the Summers’ house an adult. Anyone but Giles.

Thankfully, Bobby didn’t have to venture far into the house before finding Giles. Propped over a book at the dining table, the Watcher was either completely engrossed or had fallen asleep. With only the smallest twinge of guilt for robbing Giles of his respite, Bobby tossed a book on the table, causing Giles to jump in his seat. Asleep.

“Rough night?” Ellen asked, settling into the chair beside Giles.

Giles rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Relatively calm until the screaming began around three. A couple of the girls had rather vivid nightmares.”

“Don't know why,” said Jo, picking up a book and making a face. “Lucifer is out to get them. No big deal.”

Ellen snatched the book from her hands. “Coffee, Little Miss. Get some for Bobby, too.”

For a second, Jo’s face flushed with teenage exasperation before she headed to the kitchen.

Redirecting her attention, Ellen asked, “Where are the girls now?” She glanced at the knot of girls lounging around the living room. “The screaming ones?”

“We moved them to Buffy’s room so they’d stop disturbing the others. I haven’t heard them in a while, so I assume they’re still asleep.” Giles checked his watch. “Is that really the time?”

“Sorry, Rupert. We thought we’d get right to business today.” Ellen offered an apologetic smile. “Speakin’ of, point me at those girls when they’re up. I don’t understand a lot about wherever the hell we are, but I’m sure mothering is still the same.”

A small smile broke free on Giles’ lips. “No doubt they need that. Some of these girls haven’t seen their families for six months.”

Bobby cleared his throat. “The squeaky blond boy said they’re here because they're the next vessel for Artemis, who is currently asleep inside of Buffy, and that’s why she’s a super-powered vampire-killing machine. Right?”

Giles nodded. “In short.”

Bobby pushed the slim book he’d dropped on the table toward Giles. He’d gotten it from a book dealer probably two decades before, as a ‘thank you’ for saving her son from a poltergeist. The book, Huntress Bound by The Order of the Oracle, contained a ludicrous story about how the goddess of witches captured and enslaved the goddess of the hunt. It was warped from years of propping up the nightstand in Bobby’s bedroom. “Archangel Asshole insisted I bring this.”

Giles was agape as he flipped through the pages, muttering, “Yes,” over and over. Finally, he looked up. “Bobby, are you any good at research?”

“Good at it? My research is the only thing that’s been keeping those idjits alive all this time.”

DAY 3

She straightened his tie. Dean looked even more impossibly handsome in his grey three-piece suit. His mossy green eyes sparkled in the late morning sun. Would it be bad luck to kiss him now?

“You are beautiful,” he said, skimming his hands over her waist and down her hips. The sequins on her gown clattered under his fingers.

“You don't think it's too much?”

“You're perfect.”

Holding hands, they turned to look at the ivy covered church. It was now or never. “Ready?” she asked.

Dean flashed his machete in reply.

Buffy kicked in the doors.

Buffy unlocked the apartment door. Sunnydale was only occupied by her people and vampires, but locking the door felt good.

She had been itching to patrol. Fresh air. Time alone. Violence. She didn’t need to go far from the apartment. Though they turned it off at sunset, the generator on the roof was a rumbling call that tasty humans lived inside. She’d dusted six vampires just on her street, each kill softening the anxious needles in her brain. Maybe tonight, she wouldn’t have that nightmare again.

She tiptoed into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before bed, only to find Jo with a bottle of whiskey, pictures scattered around her on the floor.

Gently, Buffy removed the whiskey from her hands, and gave Jo a bottle of water. “Rough day?”

“I wanted to know if getting drunk felt the same.”

“Does it?”

“Feels pretty good.” Jo grinned at her. “I’m not usually a mess like this, I swear. But I come back from the dead to ‘The Pantheon Realm’ where my friend is dating ‘a slayer’ which totally sounds like something he would have killed when I was alive.” She used finger quotes around her words. “Although my life did involve cities laid to waste by Lucifer and his demons, so at least one thing’s consistent.”

“You think I’m a monster?”

“No! But you’re freaking me out! Everything is familiar, yet not familiar. Bonus! Now that I’m alive again, it looks like I’m going to die. Blaze of glory round two!”

Buffy understood. Heaven was rest. Hell was coming back to a fate-packed to-do. “You’ve been alive for three days. If you want to stay here tomorrow and chill, that’s fine. Maybe drive off into the sunset? You don’t have to help fight Lucifer.”

“Hey, I died helping fight Lucifer!” Her eyes were ablaze as she pointed at Buffy. Soon, she slumped back against a cabinet and ran her finger over the pictures of the floor. Jo chuckled and held a picture too close to Buffy’s face. “What is this?”

It was from Buffy and Dean’s vacation to San Francisco on Halloween. They’d stopped to watch a parade where a drag queen was affronted by their lack of costume. The queen’s solution was to dump a bag of hot pink glitter on Dean. In the picture, Buffy was laughing as he tried to rub the glitter on her. It was Sam’s favorite picture, and he made sure it was prominently displayed on the refrigerator.

“On Halloween, Dean and I took a little vacation--”

“That! That crazy, opposite day stuff is what I’m talking about.” Jo’s voice was loud and slurred. “‘Went on a vacation’, with Dean Fucking Winchester? He’s not the guy anyone goes on vacation with! He’s the guy who finds you crying in your beer after your boyfriend dumps you on vacation. He’s the guy who promises you one night of great sex before running away from any feelings he may have stirred up. Dean Winchester is much more interested in sluts than girlfriends.”

Dean had barely talked about Jo. Ellen yes. Bobby at length. Jo got short statements. She was “a kid” who was “in over her head.” “Somethin’ to prove.” He’d spoken of her death once.

Yet, on more than one occasion, Lucifer referred to Jo and Dean in much more intimate terms. Buffy hated it when they’d had to discuss her relationship with Spike, so she never asked about Jo. She was the past. She was buried.

“Sounds like you spent a lot of time with him,” Buffy replied.

Jo waved her bottle of water dismissively. “I’m happy for him. I am. God knows that man needs more people than Sam.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s just that...well...I don’t have superpowers. Is that all it took to get noticed?”

Buffy’s heart broke for Jo. Jo, ripped from death to be dealt a crappy life. Aching from the newness and unfairness of it all. Pining for the right man met at the wrong time.

“Will you girls quit yer snivlin’ and git to bed?” growled Bobby from the couch.

DAY 5

Their friends and family waited quietly in the pews while the choir of Potentials sang:

    There are many here among us

    Who feel that life is but a joke

    But you and I we've been through that

    And this is not our fate

    So let us not talk falsely now

    The hour's getting late.

At the head of the church stood Caleb in his vestments, clapping along with the music. With each slap of his hands, one of the Potentials exploded in a puff of blood. He was flanked by a pus-pocked corpse on a fly-riddled green horse and a white robed creature with huge black wings astride a pale horse.

Pestilence charged them. Buffy grabbed the bridle and swung up, kicking the rider off. “I got him. Go!” Dean shouted as she galloped toward the priest.

Death was missing.

“Do you think this is far enough from the house?” Anya asked, tightening her grip on her axe. “You said you burned stuff that one time.”

“Because my life was being threatened by an archangel. This is just a friendly chat between frenemies,” Willow said. “Besides, I’m much more concerned about the vampires.”

At an intersection down the street, she and Buffy sat holding hands inside of Hecate’s symbol drawn in sand. According to the books, the goddess could be summoned under a full moon with appropriate sacrifices of food; they were surrounded by bottles of wine and honey bears.

Snarls drifted past the double ring of Potentials surrounding them.

The idea was that Buffy’s spirit would be able to use Willow’s vessel state to call Hecate. Then Buffy just had to convince the resentful, former friend of the goddess within Willow that she hadn’t been betrayed, and maybe she could use her powers to help a little. “Easy peasy,” Buffy grumbled.

Willow began, “Hecate! Crone Goddess of the Moon! Power, great power. Grant me this boon.”

One of the Potentials stepped back, knocking over a candle.

“Give us some room, girls! This could get weird...er.”” Buffy righted the candle and wiped some warm wax from a honey bear. “I hope mildly melty is still goddess approved.”

“Half step out!” Jo shouted. The group shuffled.

Willow tried again. “Mistress with three faces, I accept my role. Lead me to the path. Your name writ on my soul. Hi, it’s Willow Rosenberg again. Remember? You were in my body a week or so ago yelling at some --”

Everything went deathly silent. Before Willow’s eyes, the Potentials transformed into gnarled black trees. Mist and moonlight shot through their twisted branches. Buffy, still in her meditative pose, crumbled into an ash heap; in the middle of the ashes, lay a single golden pebble.

Willow didn’t dare to breathe.

The glow of a light appeared to her left. A naked, torch-bearing figure stepped out from behind one of the trees. Her skin was as dark as the night and freckled with stars. She phased in and out of three faces -- one screaming, one old, and one calm. Her pearl eyes fixed on Willow.

“You have summoned me more than any other vessel.” Her voice was musical and animal. A whisper and a cry.

Willow wasn’t sure how to respond. Hecate hadn’t asked a question, and Willow wasn’t sure if the declaration was surprised or annoyed. Willow bowed her head to the ground, arms open wide in reverence, and waited.

A chill snaked from the top of Willow's head to the tips of her toes.

“Rise, girl. What do you want?”

Willow stood, but didn’t dare look up. “Lucifer is here. His brother Michael is coming.”

Hecate lifted Willow’s chin with her hand, forcing her to look in her glowing eyes. “Why does this worry you?”

“They’re going to destroy the world.”

“Not the whole world. Only part.”

Fear rushed out of Willow’s body. “Only part! Only! Part! Do you hear yourself?”

“My concerns are not human concerns. The world is ancient. It burns and floods and freezes in the span of my heartbeat. The world will change, but I will remain.”

“Why do you think the angels would leave you alive?” Willow asked. “Lucifer is trying to wipe out Artemis’ vessels. Why not yours next?”

Something like surprise flitted over the goddess’ calm face. “I am witchcraft itself. I will remain.”

“Oh, you got an army up your, uh -- No sleeves, okay. Have you been busy calling all witches? Huh? No, you haven’t. Meanwhile, Artemis is still locked up and --”

“Do not speak to me of the Huntress!” Hecate thundered. The stars on her skin grew as if they might supernova with her rage.

Willow put her hands on her hips. “Artemis was your friend.”

“The Huntress was closer to me than a sister. She turned her back on me! How could a mortal like you understand the pain of that break?

Willow didn’t just remember skinning Warren. She remembered trying to kill Buffy. Trying to kill Giles. And those memories haunted her with each hug, each encouraging word, each smile. “I know how rare true friends are. I know every moment of pain is worth it.

“My friends and I are prepared to fight the angels, but we haven’t even been able to get past his creepy priest groupie. But we’ll keep fighting. We’ll die fighting. Saving the world is worth it.”

The calm face did not change. “Then I shall again prepare myself to search for another vessel.”

An idea popped into Willow’s head. “Why me? Why are you using me as your vessel?”

“You had the potential to be the strongest witch in the world. A lesser witch could not contain me.”

Hecate was eternal. Witches may live long lives, but not that long. Besides, Willow was born in the 80s. “What happened to your vessel before me?”

“He...disappointed me.”

“Did he have a name?”

Hecate blew out her torch and stepped back into the rapidly shrinking trees. “Gregor Skrivanek.”

Buffy, in a meditation pose across from Willow, looked at her quizzically. “Gesundheit?”

There was a twang and a wizz as one of the girls fired a crossbow. “If we’re finished being freaky, I’d kinda like to go back inside,” said Jo.

DAY 9

Before she reached the steps to trample Caleb, Buffy tumbled and bounced down the rest of the aisle. Her horse had turned into a toy. Likewise, she was small and limp, unable to move on her own. Caleb, scooped her up in his giant hands. “Did you think this was about you?”

He turned her toward her friends and family. With the snap of his fingers, they were ablaze. “Did you think you could save them?”

“The blame is on me,” he continued. “I let that vampire’s obsession with you trick me into thinking you mattered, but you don’t. You’re empty. You try to fill it with school, with shopping, with any man who is desperate enough to fuck you, but you’re a little doll who needs other people to pose her.”

He turned her away from him, toward Death at the end of the aisle, his scythe and robes spattered with blood, and dangling from his hand -- Dean’s head.

In a weird way, it was comforting to have all the Scoobies gathered around the dining table researching monsters. Almost homey, if it was even possible to feel at home in her own house again. Of course, Buffy’s semi-fond memories of high school slaying didn’t involve Spike sitting next to her as they researched monsters, or Andrew Wells fiddling with a camcorder. They didn’t involve researching how to kill a human either.

Xander’s eyes were practically cartoon hearts locked on Ellen as she replaced his empty plate with a second helping of sloppy joe, cornbread and green beans. “You’re just the most amazing, Ellen.”

Smiling, she tousled his hair before checking on the Potentials in the other room.

Xander ravenously tucked into his food.

“Xander, you got a little.” Dawn wiped at the corner of her mouth.

Anya glanced at the sauce smeared on Xander’s face. “It's just pride.”

Xander mock laughed before taking a giant bite of cornbread.

“It’s been a long, dark time since we’ve had seconds,” Andrew declared, zooming his lens in on Xander. “But Ellen knows all sorts of recipes. Tomorrow, she’s going to teach me to --”

Dawn paused from note-taking. “Andrew, what are you doing?”  

“I’m making a documentary of our gallant heroes. My redemption arc heavily features. I’m, like, the Vader of the group.”

“Don’t show interest, or he’ll think you care.” Anya slammed her book closed. “Why can’t we just set him on fire again?”

“I don’t want to be on fire,” replied Andrew, meekly.

“Not you. Caleb,” she clarified. “Fire is the traditional, time-respected way to off a witch.”

Willow scrunched her face in disgust. “One, I’m generally not a fan of the burned-at-the-stake scene. Had a close call once. A singeing, if you will. Two, I have a theory--”

Buffy tuned out while Willow explained again. The goal was to kill Caleb, but to kill him, they had to return him to a much more human state. When Dean had asked her if she was ready to kill a person, she’d bristled. While it wasn’t the Slayer’s job to deliver justice in the human sense, Caleb had clearly chosen the path of evil. She’d plunged her sword in him without hesitation. However, in light of Willow’s plan, Buffy couldn’t help but wonder if Caleb -- once separated from the archangel controlling him -- could be saved. Was he simply another victim of Lucifer?

Ellen drifted back into the room, her eyes on the windows. She sucked on the insides of her cheeks when she was nervous, and she’d been nervous ever since Jo, Bobby and Giles left town two days ago to follow some leads.

“Has she called?” Spike asked, gently reaching out to touch Ellen’s arm.

Ellen smiled and patted his hand. “A few times. Thought they’d’ve been back by now.”

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Spike lowered his voice to a whisper, “but stodgy ol’ Giles is right decent in a fight. She’s in good hands if it comes to that.”

Before Ellen could respond, the Impala pulled up outside. She smiled at Jo, still in her bland detective suit, coming up the walk with the Winchester's green cooler. Buffy recognized the relieved mom look. Ellen was doing a good job not steamrolling everyone between her and her daughter’s embrace.

Jo arrived with a triumphant smile. “Not even rusty.” She handed her mom the cooler. “Stopped for food before Apocalypse-zone. Got some fresh stuff!”

“Thanks, hon.” Ellen set the cooler on the table and wrapped Jo in a bear hug.

Bobby, tie loose and trucker cap back on his head, set a box of files on the table. “Had a minor setback, but we got it.”

“What happened?” Buffy asked.

“I’m afraid I am not a convincing FBI agent,” Giles said with a sigh. He glared at Andrew. “What is he doing?”

Undeterred, Andrew zoomed in. “Set the scene for us, Giles. You’re sweating bullets in the FBI office, surrounded by men in black who’ve been trained to sniff out a lie. What do you do?”

Bewildered, Giles again looked to the group. “What is he doing?”

“‘E’s keeping calm.” Spike reached into the box for a handful of files. He handed one to Buffy.

“Meet Gregor Skrivanek,” Bobby said. “Box one.”

“Of how many?” whined Anya.

“Three more in the trunk,” Jo said with a smirk.

Anya closed her book and left the room.

“Did you get the mementos we need for the spell?” Willow asked.

“That’s box four.” Jo smiled. “It’s in the backseat. Although they’re less mementos and more burnables.”

“Burning is the goal!” Willow smiled.

Buffy opened her folder, a thick police file from Boston. It contained three coroner reports and photos of three different teenage girls. Two slashed at the throat. One was just a head. All were bloated and distorted from floating in water.

“Get it all,” Buffy said. I’m ready.

DAY 12

On yesterday’s patrol, Buffy had captured a vampire minion and gave him a message for Caleb.

Highway 1 bridge at 10. Alone.

Caleb was cocky. He’d show.

The wind whipped around Buffy as she stood high above the ravine on the bridge headed out of town. She pulled her coat tighter -- not tight enough to outline the ax hanging from her belt -- and passed the time by watching Orion, Dean’s favorite constellation. Willow had told her Orion the Hunter was the only man Artemis loved. (“Later she maybe killed him, but that’s totally not your story! Not a blueprint!”) It was a cute bit of trivia, but it didn’t matter.

Dean was no more Orion than he was Michael’s toy. She was more than a holding cell. If they were anything, they were masters of their own fate.

“You came,” Caleb shouted down the bridge. “I’m surprised after the beating I handed you last time, but then you are an arrogant bitch.”

She bit back a grin. It was almost too easy. “Don’t pretend you know me.”

“Don’t I? Buffy Summers became the Slayer without any training because who would have guessed such a shallow waste of space could be anything? Certainly not her daddy who ran away in terror. Now she tries to fill the hole by spreading her legs for any old guy who shows an interest.”

He smirked at her with the hungry glare of a middle-aged man parked outside a middle school. “People think Lucifer has Daddy issues, but he’s not still trying to gain approval. He can flex his own power.”

“Kind of a crappy story,” said Buffy. “Not very accurate either. I give it two stars, but one of those is a pity star.”

She slowly walked toward him. “Here’s a story I heard recently. About thirty-five years ago, a boy named Gregor was born with the most powerful magic skills history had ever seen. Of course, floating objects over his crib frightened his parents, so they dropped him off at an orphanage. He grew to despise the nuns who ran the place. Conveniently for him, he was the lone survivor of a fire at the orphanage when he was six. By the time he was thirteen, every orphanage and foster home he went to after that found a girl dead within six months of his arrival. He was never tied to the deaths though, because he was using magic.”

Snarls echoed from underneath the bridge. Buffy had expected Caleb to bring backup; although, she tried to not dwell on what could be climbing so high above the ravine.

“Are you trying to appeal to my humanity?” Caleb sneered. “This is more nostalgia than anything.”

Buffy continued. “Murder. Murder. Murder. Always girls. Probably misplaced mommy issues over being given up. But when Gregor turned sixteen, he was caught strangling a girl and sent to a juvenile detention center where he supposedly found God. When he got out, he changed his name and became a priest. And a serial killer.”

“Nice story--”

“I wasn’t finished.” The power of her voice stopped him in his tracks. “If this boy had been a powerful warlock, why did he start choking girls. Why did he get caught?”

Caleb cocked his head to the side, clearly desperate to know.

Two pairs of feet thudded behind her at the entrance to the bridge. She couldn’t deal with them now. Caleb had to be first or the spell wouldn’t work.

“It’s because Hecate cut him off. He was supposed to be her star, her vessel to move about the Earth when needed, but he was too maggot-riddled for her.” Hecate's sense of morality may be different from theirs, but it was clear she held women in higher regard than men.

Shots zipped through the air. Whatever was behind her roared.

With Caleb distracted, Buffy closed the gap between them and slapped him across the cheek, leaving an ashen handprint. The contact of their skin blazed white hot as his body, no longer a vessel, ejected the bit of Lucifer’s grace that could fit inside.

Doubled over on his knees, Caleb growled. “What did you do, you bitch?!”

“Magic,” she replied as she swung her axe down on his neck.

One swing for her. One for Dawn. For Grace. For Vi, Sophia, and every Potential he’d killed. Buffy, whose personal code was to never kill a human, chopped him to bits for every girl he’d murdered.

She spun around. Two Turok-Han were heading up the highway towards the tall trees where Bobby, Jo, and Ellen were perched with rifles and blessed bullets. Bobby had been right. The bullets hadn’t killed the vampires, but they had slowed and distracted Caleb’s minions.   

Buffy took a deep, stuttering breath over the bloody mess in the road, grabbed a chunk of his hair, and tossed Caleb’s head into the ravine below.

“Hey!” she barked. The vampires stopped to consider who to kill first. “Miffed about being shot? Don’t lose your head over it.”

With a running start and two hand springs, Buffy was between them. She twirled her ax above her head. The vampires’ heads popped off, and they crumbled to dust.

Buffy rose. Her grin to the stars. Blood dripping from her ax, from her fingertips.

Bobby and the Harvelle’s stumbled out from the brush.

“Well that went off without a hitch.” Ellen wrapped her arm around Buffy’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

“Yeah, Will’s spell turned off his vesselness.” Buffy’s hand had been covered in the ashes of some objects Caleb had owned. After Willow wrote the spell in the ash, all they needed to make it work was skin-to-skin contact.

They all began the trek back to where the Impala was hidden. Buffy resisted the urge to bounce. “God, I wish Sunnydale wasn’t shuttered up. I’d kill for a burger.”

“Nothin’ like the Apocalypse to make you miss the little things,” said Bobby.

Buffy missed one thing that wasn’t so little, but she wouldn’t let her mind drift there. The dream would come again, for sure. Tonight, however, she would live in the moment. She’d beaten back the Devil.

next chapter

#spn x btvs #buffy x dean #buffynatural #buffy supernatural crossover #spn fanfic #btvs fanfiction #btvs series #supernatural fanfiction #dean x buffy #dreams #supernatural x buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs au #buffy summers #rupert giles #jo harvelle #ellen harvelle #bobby singer #spike #xander harris #anya jenkins #dawn summers #potential slayers #dean winchester #caleb

[gemstoneandtriangle]

Ego Shorts Explained pt. 3: Dynamics

(Otherwise known as how I see everyone interacting with each other. See if you can spot the community inspired references. Spoilers: they're all inspired by the community)

Best friends:

Dr. Schneeplestien and Chase

Anti and JJ

JJ and Marvin

JJ and Robbie

Friends:

JJ and Jackieboy Man

JJ and Chase

JJ and Dr. Schneeplestien

Marvin and Chase

Chase and Jackieboy Man

Jackieboy Man and Dr. Schneeplestein

Neutral:

Chase and Robbie

Jackieboy Man and Marvin

Robbie and Jackieboy Man

Enemies:

Jackieboy Man and Anti

Robbie and Dr. Schneeplestien

Dr. Schneeplestein and Anti

Chase and Anti

Best Frienemies:

Dr. Schneeplestien and Marvin

Anti and Robbie

Anti and Marvin

Robbie and Marvin

Dynamics Explained:

Schneep and Chase both have similar family problems. Schneep is the supportive friend who works towards seeing their friend be happy and healthy. Very defensive. Chase appreciates the support and makes sure Schneep doesn't overwork himself. The two go out for coffee breaks when needed. Schneep is aware that Anti is after Chase, especially after dealing with the him before. Schneep is the first person Chase goes to when he needs to talk about his problems, and the good doctor will usually drop whatever he's doing to listen.

Anti met JJ as soon as he was brought into the "Septic Family" and wasted no time corrupting him. JJ doesn't seem to have any long lasting effects from the corruption, but does have occasional violent tendencies. These are usually hidden as clumsy mishaps with sharp objects, mostly directed at himself, but can harm another person. When these are not present, JJ acts as his usual self, cheerful and eager to entertain. Anti has taken the liberty to teach the mute sign language, earning his trust even more, and very occasionally lets JJ sit in during his crocheting. JJ is very friendly and trusting towards each ego, and Anti is no different. Most of the time he is the first to even tell if Anti is around, giving away his location. It is unclear whether the two are really friends or if Anti is simply controlling him, but they are considered best friends anyways.

JJ and Marvin quickly became friends in fashion and entertainment. Marvin is always looking for volunteers for his tricks, and JJ is always willing to help. Even when a preformamce goes wrong, JJ will be the first to reassure Marvin and encourage him to try again. JJ is very supportive and will even help Marvin with a patch job if needed. Both egos' over the top demeanor work well off of each other for entertaining shows, allowing them to be close friends.

Robbie is usually left out of the group (considering he's not offically recognized as an ego by Jack himself), so JJ decided to fix that. JJ acts as an escort and translator of sorts for the zombie and regularly lends him a hand. Robbie has never thanked him yet, but JJ can see the gratitude in his cold, dead eyes. When the others are all against Robbie, JJ will stand by his side.

Jackieboy Man and JJ aren't too close, but Jackieboy does keep an eye out on the mute, mostly due to Anti's influence on him. Jackieboy usually asks for help with his super suit as a way to check up on JJ, making small tears with a pair of scissors and a story in case he is questioned. If he causes minimal damage to himself or the hero, he's fine. If he's constantly getting stuck by needles, Anti's up to no good. Jackieboy does feel bad about tricking JJ, but feels a hero needs to do whatever he can to keep innocent civillians safe. Jackieboy also notices when JJ is helping the other egos with their jobs, and feels a sense of pride knowing he is keeping Anti away from him. JJ supports the hero when he can, encouraging him to never give up the fight against evil.

Chase and JJ get along just fine, especially when working on videos. Chase does think that something is a little off with the way JJ acts, but doesn't question it any farther. JJ will occasionally check in with Chase if he's been quiet all day, making sure he hasn't done anything drastic. If Chase is caught with a bottle, JJ will be the first to tell him off about drinking, reminding him how it won't solve anything.

Schneep is very cautious around JJ, also aware of Anti's influence on him. After doing a thorough check up, Schneep discovered JJ is fully in control of his actions, does not suffer from any mental illnesses, and that he does, in fact, have working vocal cords, meaning JJ can speak, but chooses not to. Schneep appreciates any help JJ brings during his work, even if he is a little clumsy. JJ can recognize when Schneep has been overworking and will do his best to separate him from his work before a very unfortunate patient gets hurt.

Marvin is interested by Chase's show, and is constantly asking to be on it, wanting to show off his magic. Chase usually says no, claiming his show is about average trickshots and not about fooling an audience. Marvin once pointed out how he fooled the audience into thinking he's living a happy life with his family and Chase broke down crying. Marvin quickly apologized and made flowers appear from his wand to cheer him up. It didn't work. Marvin stopped asking to be on his show after that. He does still offer advice for new tricks to impress his audience and has even helped supply fireworks for one show. Marvin tries to support Chase and help him when he's upset, going so far as to perform a private show for him. He's even bought a book about consuling friends and mending wounds. He does slip up and say the wrong things sometimes, but tries to make up for it afterwards.

Jackieboy Man is one of the egos that will break down Chase's door if he feels like he's in trouble. Anti has had his eyes on torturing him for quite some time now, and Jackieboy will not let that happen! Chase appreciates the support, but does feel like Jackieboy can be overbearing. He's just trying to protect the innocent from harm! It's his job! Jackieboy makes sure to end every visit with a pep talk, encouraging words, and a reminder to keep up a "Positive! Mental! Attitude!" before leaving. It gets repetitive after a while, but there's something about the PMA shout that makes Chase smile.

Jackieboy Man will sometimes find injured civillians with nowhere to bring them shelter during his patrols, and the only person he can turn to is Schneep. Jackieboy monitors the patient the entire time they're there, fully aware of the doctor's habits when he doesn't have his coffee. When he's finished, Jackieboy will thank Schneep for understanding the situation and escort the civilian back to their home. Jackieboy will remind Schneep about PMA as well, wanting him to spread that mindset to his patients. Schneep is the only victim of Anti that Jackieboy is not aware of, meaning his patrols around his room are very few and kept to the point.

Chase, like most of the egos, is very wary around Robbie, unsure if he is safe to be around. On good days, Chase may forget about his fear of the zombie and may hang out with him, showing him a few trick shots. Robbie doesn't say it, but Chase likes to thing he enjoys them.

Jackieboy Man and Marvin both admire the other's masks and value of keeping people happy, but that's about all they agree on. Jackieboy usually gets an earful about his lack of cape from the magician and Marvin is always told he could be helping people with his magic from the hero. The two basically tolerate each other.

Robbie is a zombie! A threat to Jackieboy Man's quest to keep people safe! He doesn't do much other than limp around and moan, sure, but he's a zombie! Maybe Robbie just needs some PMA to keep himself out of trouble.

Ever since Jack was first attacked by Anti, Jackieboy Man has made it his life goal to stop the demon from taking anymore lives. Anti will berate Jackieboy for failing at his job of protecting Jack and brag that he has plans for the other egos, or as he likes to call them: "puppets". Jackieboy and Anti get into verbal and physical fights nearly every time they are in the same room. Negative mind set versus positive mental attitude, good versus evil, superhero versus super demon, who will win?

Schneep is very fascinated by Robbie and only wants to run a few tests... Too bad the zombie hates doctors and needles. Usually slow, Robbie will suddenly get a boost of speed if it means he gets away from Schneep. On rare occasions, the two will put their differences aside for a coffee break.

Schneep didn't believe Anti was a person at first, and instead treated him like a mental illness, until Jack suddenly became serverly ill and had to be operated on. Schneep found Jack suffering from several symptoms, and could not figure out a cure. Soon he realized that he was suffering from the same symptoms too. He nodded off several times, and once caught himself trying to choke himself with headphone cords. Schneep claims he has no memory of anything after, including Jack flatlining, seeing as he's still here, walking around like nothing's wrong, but the doctor does remember hearing Jack's voice near the end of the operation, but something wasn't right about it. After the whole ordeal, Schneep started seeing Anti, walking around among the egos, interacting with them. Schneep knows he's real now, and has vowed to protect the others from his influence, seeing just how powerful he really is. Anti will glitch into his office on occasions, messing with his supplies, sometimes going so far as to force Schneep to give a patient a lethal injection. Schneep, of course, will try and reverse the effects, but when he fails, Anti reveals himself and makes sure to remind him of his mistakes. One time had gotten so bad that Chase had to force himself into the room and snap the doctor out of a hysterical episode. Schneep does not tolerate Anti being anywhere near him or the others.

After learning about all of Chase's problems, Anti decided to become his demons personified, pushing his depression to the edge and even suggesting "solutions" to end his suffering. When he's thinking clearly, Chase can fight back without too much trouble, but if Chase is really beaten down, those suggestions become very tempting. He's paranoid around Anti, as he should be, and prefers for someone else to be around with him if he's in the same room.

Schneep is a doctor, he knows what he's doing, according to himself at least. Marvin disagrees, as he's read up on a few medical books in his spare time, and will be the first to point out anything that seems off. Schneep and Marvin often get into fights about how important magic or science really is, usually resulting to childish name calling until someone's feelings (Marvin's) gets hurt. The two make up quickly, and tend to show they're sincere by watching the other preform their jobs. Marvin will sometimes come to Schneep with a crazy idea for a new trick, and the doctor will do his best to support him, even if he knows it will end badly.

Anti and Robbie don't mind each other for the most part, but sometimes Anti needs a puppet to cause chaos, and luckily there's a zombie that everyone's afraid of nearby. Robbie hates that the only real interaction he has with Anti is being a vessel for mayham, but tolerates his presence anyways, as he doesn't run away in fear.

Marvin has strived to perfect the art of illusion, but isn't too good at it just yet. Enter a psychopathic glitch demon with promises of mastering more than just slight of the hand tricks. Marvin knows not to trust Anti, and constantly refuses his offers, no matter how great they are, but Anti knows he will come around eventually, and if he doesn't, he can find a new use for the magician.

Like his relationship with Schneep, Robbie is always running from Marvin, whether to escape being a volunteer for his latest trick or just wanting to study him to learn about reanimation. On good days, Marvin just wants to test out a card trick and Robbie will happily offer to help, but as soon as the zombie sees anything that's more than what was mentioned, he's good as gone.

#ozzie rants #ego shorts #jacksepticeye #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye egos #jackieboy man #anti #antisepticeye #chase brody #bro average #henrik von schneeplestein #dr schneeplestein #jameson jackson #marvin the magician #marvin the magnificent #robbie the zombie #youtubers #long post #hope this makes sense #this was literally a copy paste from my memos #if anything needs explaining please send me an ask and ill do my best to explain my thoughts

[pathcrier]

OC as a child

Rhona Trevelyan ft momma Trevelyan I was tagged by @heraldofwho thank you bunches!!!

1. Who named them/ significance of their name? Rhona’s father, Elwyn is the one who actually named her. It means blessed and holy. Fitting, right? Rhona’s family is heavily involved with the Chantry and her parents have named their other 3 children blessed names- so they felt it only suiting.

2. The home they grew up in? Rhona’s family owned 2 estates, one in Ostwick and one in Nevarra. The stayed in the Free Marches estate for most of the year, often spending the summers in Nevarra to visit her mother’s family. Being her mother was born and raised in Cumberland. Their estate to which they lived in the most was glorious and very well decorated, it included 12 bedrooms, a parlor with a view of the countryside, and a very large and well stocked library which Rhona spent much of her time in before the Circle. Once her magic manifested she made her home in the Ostwick Circle, but once she gained control of her magic and passed her Harrowing- she was able to leave as she pleases. Which she always ended up home for months at a time before returning once more to the Circle. She didn’t actually start spending time at home again until her early twenties, upon returning from Ferelden and Kirkwall in fact.

3. Relationship with parents? Rhona had a tight-knit family but was the closest with her father, being the baby she was his little princess. They were seen everywhere together, she would sneak into his salons and was the center of attention. He completely doted on her and loved her endlessly, she got her love for reading from him. He is the one who taught her to read and it became their favorite pastime together. Her mother loved her just as much but was much more stern, she wanted her children to be completely well cultured. Which meant constant tutoring and  responsibilities. Despite Rhona being sent to the Circle at such a young age, both her parents made sure she was living comfortably and contently. Giving their status, she was able to move back home once she passed her Harrowing- her mother made sure she had the best tutor. When they heard their baby girl was off fighting the Blight in Ferelden her mother quite literally became ill because of the anxiety. She didn’t actually recover fully until the Viscount of Kirkwall sent word to Elwyn and Fianna Trevelyan that their daughter was safe as can be in Kirkwall. After the Qunari attack on the city, Rhona escaped the fighting and made her way back to Ostwick and lived the next 3 years at home and working with young apprentices at the Circle. Rekindling her relationship with her parents and helping out more with the estate affairs. 

4. Three words that describe them as a child? Spritely, mischievous, and fiery. She was honestly a very devious child, her and her closest sibling, Asher, spent many evenings planning heists on the kitchen in order to obtain sweets after bedtime- giving their nanny the hardest time; she blamed Rhona’s troublesome behavior for her aging early.

5. Childhood friend(s)? Her closest friend was her older brother, Asher, who was 2 years older than herself. They got into all sorts of trouble together, from kitchen heists, to mud pies thrown at the stable hands. They were joined at the hip and wherever one went, the other was quite literally on their heels. Outside of her family, her childhood best friend was her neighbor, a girl her age named, Lucille. Her family were constant guests of her family’s salons and she was just as rambunctious as Rhona. They spent hours in the estate’s gardens, playing mostly hide and seek. They lost touch once Rhona’s magic manifested, Lucille’s parents didn’t want their daughter involved with a mage.

6. Favorite toy?  Rhona’s grandmother made her a crochet dragon, being those were the center of her fascination. His name was Bufkin and Rhona didn’t go anywhere without him. She brought him with her when she had to move to the Circle and it never left her sight. Once she left for Ferelden though she left it behind and the Knight-Enchanter sent it back to her family for safe keeping. It had a special place on her night stand and even well into her early twenties it was a source of her comfort. When her parents found out she was the leader of the Inquisition, they went out of their way to package it and send it to Skyhold- in hopes that it will once more give her comfort in those trying times.

7. Any childhood traumas? Rhona’s only traumatic event was the night her magic manifested, she was having a fit of night terrors once more and this time when she awoke her bed’s canopy was set ablaze. As she was only a wee 6 year old, waking up to find her bed was on fire after having vivid nightmares was just the most horrific thing to her little mind.

8. Hobbies? She spent hours grazing her library’s selection, namely at tomes about dragons- which her mother brought home the last time she was in Nevarra. Since she was able to read alone in confidence since the age of 3, she had a vast knowledge of dragons and wyverns stored in her brain. She could easily tell you anything and everything you would like to know about those giant lizards. When she wasn’t reading in the library she just liked to simply explore the estate grounds with her older sister, Gwyneth. 

9. Childhood fears? One word- possession. She was honestly never sure she would be able to resist demons, she didn’t believe she had a strong willpower. So her first few years at the Circle were spent being extra cautious and vigilant, especially when she was asleep. She learned quickly on to not trust anyone but herself in the Fade. But the thought of being possessed still scared the life out of her.

10. Quirks? While she was still learning to control her magic, whenever she would sneeze something nearby would be set on fire- once was another apprentice’s robes. For the longest time the other apprentices would clear the room when she was on the edge of a sneeze.  She snorts when she laughs, all the time. She used to think it was the ugliest thing until she met Cullen. Who said her laugh the most pure thing to him and made her...well her.

I am going to tag @quizzikemen, @vilemie, @learielle, @vivalaegghead, @dickeybbqpit, @antivancorvo, @i-nq

#look at baby Rho #isn't she a cutie #a rare moment when she wasn't smiling or laughing actually #this was actually so much fun #momma Fianna looks so exhausted im so sorry Fia #Rhona Trevelyan #Dragon Age #my ocs