#step mama arc au

[howlingday]

I don't know if it was something me and buds thought of or something just funny but......

Step-Mama Raikou Au

Teams RWBY and JNPR we're in the forever fall forrest a small mission given to them as a test. During a spread out Jaune was seperated from the others and from there met a Ursa variant trying to fight off unfortunately got his sword disarmed and stuck into its hide. That was until a few arrows struck it in the eyes and familiar purple lighting slices the grimm in half.

"Jaune?" The young man flinched when he heard the words said behind him in a familiar voice. "Jaune, is that you?"

Jaune gulped, then slowly turned around. Of all the people in his life he expected to find at Beacon once more, his stepmother was not high on his list to expect. Finally meeting her lavender gaze, Jaune felt a lump in his throat grow bigger. She gave him a soft smile, as she brushed her hand against his cheek.

"My son." She cooed, pulling him into a hug. "It's been too long. Are you unharmed?"

"Mo-" Jaune cleared his throat, pushing away. "I mean, what are you doing here, Misses Raikou?"

"So formal." She rested her head in her hand. "You've grown into such a gentleman that you'd address your own mother by her name." Removing her cheek, she brought a finger under her eye, catching a tear that slipped away. "I can't tell whether to be proud of you or sad that you've grown up without me knowing."

"I..." Jaune shook his head. "I'm in the middle of a test, Misses Raikou! I need to get back to my team."

"Will you allow me to escort you, my son?"

Jaune looked to the Ursa his stepmother annihilated. This might have been the closest Jaune ever felt pity for a heartless monster driven by a lust for destruction of all things man-made. That said, Jaune knew that though his stepmother assisting would be a boon that ensured him finding the rest of his team would be the easiest thing possible, but it would also rob him the chance to prove to everyone, including himself that he had what it took to become a huntsman.

"No." He shook his head. "I have to do this on my own."

She smiled at him, then brought him close for another hug. This time, he accepted it, and hugged her back. At this, she squeezed a little tighter. They then let go, though who let go first would be up for debate at a later point, if ever.

"Go." She said. "Do your family proud."

Jaune nodded, then fled from where she stood. Behind her, a Grimm reared back to strike her. In a blink, everything around her had be sliced and destroyed with little more than a clack of her sword seating in it's sheath to prove that there was any movement at all. She then walked through the ashes of the foul Grimm, already spewing ash from it's lifeless form.

#rwby #fate series #fate/grand order #minamoto no raikou #type moon #jaune arc #step mama arc #step mama arc au #rwby au #my answers #my answer

[deusvervewrites]

Hair Trigger AU

Breathe in.

Izuku adjusts his aim, the rifle’s stand keeping him steady. He reaches up with his free hand, twisting his hair into his next round.

Breathe out.

There’s a small, silent flash from the muzzle of the rifle. Four streets over, a robot’s head explodes. He chambers the next round and fires again, obliterating a robot aiming at another examinee.

“Thirty-one,” he murmurs to himself. He wonders if Mama would be proud of him if she could see him now. Maybe one day he’ll be able to talk to her himself.

Breathe in.

Izuku changes targets, spotting a cluster of robots a few blocks to the east. He readies his next rounds as he mentally tallies how many points they’re worth.

Breathe out.

The one in the back shatters. The others spin in response to the noise of their comrade falling. He fires again, and another robot drops. A robot takes a step forward, exactly like he’d hoped. A curved bullet arcs clean through it and into the one behind it. The last robot attempts to flee but barely makes it a step before Izuku shoots it.

#asks #ask game #ask game series 13 #hair trigger au

[slightlyhopefulromantic]

Mnmoms AU requests!! Very exciting--hmm would love to see Lark and Mercedes interacting :] Also for a question, what's Mercedes' and Morgan's relationship like in the AU?

OOOGHH THE SILLIES OF ALL TIME. the only mother&child relationship that is positive for the entirety to this au LMAO throughout season 1 arc, at least, though theyre mostly okay post-finale too. lark is a mama's boy <3 (for some reason tumblr just... wont let me upload the full resolution of this image? so heres a screenshot instead, it shouldnt be too different since its just a sketch bdfhjg)

and ooohhh mercedes and morgan!! good question. their dynamic isnt one that ive put as much thought into yet, buuut- (rambles for four paragraphs anyways)

theyre like. besties to worsties to besties again. good friends, but at each others throats at times. they usually get along pretty well though - as well as morgan gets along with anyone, at least, shes a pretty abrasive person and while mercedes isnt exactly quick to anger, theyre both very emotional people. they rile each other up more than they calm each other down, to say the least!

obviously, they disagree a lot on parenting styles, especially at the start of the soccer trip. morgan is on top of nick at all times, and mercedes's very laidback parenting style makes morgan feel a little crazy (and also a little scorned, because even though morgan spends so much time watching after nick, hes still just as poorly behaved as the twins). mercedes is worse than henry is, even, in this au - shes very much the "fun" parent between the two, and they function must better when theyre together. mercedes has no clue how to discipline a child, but shes also not shy about telling morgan that shes definitely doing it wrong LMAO

i think mercedes would remind morgan a lot of glenn, and at first this would be very very uncomfortable for her. as the story progresses though and as they develop their friendship, this grows into something genuinely comforting to morgan. mercedes helps morgan step back and say "hey. okay. mercedes isnt constantly on high alert for anything bad that could happen, and her kids are... you know, alive, at least!", and it reassures morgan that glenn could have been (and more subconsciously, that pre-widow morgan) a good parent, regardless of his relaxed attitude.

additionally - the omega daddies are not something ive talked about much for this au because It Is Hard To Explain, but ! morgan and bill's relationship is similar in some ways to mercedes and barry's. i think they would be able to comfort each other in regards to that :]

#dndads #monsters and mommies au

[team-heavenly]

Chapter 25 - Part 2

We're about to square tf up, and if you don't know why then you should go back here and see.

...Mmmm, I dunno... Not only do we have better odds, but we have a land shark and a mythical fae being on our side.

Step away now while you have the chance. This is your only warning.

...Fine.

We obliterate this dude so hard that I'll spare him the embarrassment. All it took was Dizzy Punch, Blizzard, Giga Drain, and Confusion. That's IT. It was over after a single turn.

Never underestimate an angry mama bear.

Oh, we will. Trust me. But what about you?

Actually, don't answer that. Get out of our sight.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT THE IDOL THING?? FRONT-FACING SHIFTRY IS A MENACE!!

Obviously, we were going to ask for this anyway, but I appreciate the opportunity to take out our desperation (and frustration) on some random brute.

(Idk why he's standing on his hind legs here, but there ya go.)

🥺️ M-me too... Oogie...

😢💔

If... we must... Oh, our dear, sweet child...

He... uh?? I mean, sure, I guess. Not even the weirdest thing we've seen tbh. (Rescue Team AU?)

...Okay, real talk for a moment.

This scene. Upset me terribly as a kid.

Yes, it was the right thing to do. Just as Togetic sacrificing himself for Teresa and Andrea was the right thing to do. But damn, if that doesn't make it hurt even more.

I have a vivid memory of my first time through this story arc... My hero was Piplup, and my partner was Phanpy. That was the first of my duos to actually make it through to the very end. And for days afterward (irl, not just in-game), I was still grieving the loss of Manaphy.

I had recently picked up a do-it-yourself journal with prompts from a Scholastic Bookfair (for reference, I was 11). And one of the prompts was the following: cut out this card with a lock icon on the one side. Flip it over and write a wish on it. Then fold it in half with the lock side showing, and tape it inside this drawing of a door. Leave it there, locked behind the door flap, and one day that wish may come true.

I don't believe (?) I have this book still. But inside my card, I wrote something along the lines of,

"I wish for Baby Manaphy to come back to Piplup and Phanpy one day... We miss him so much."

...Imagine how I felt, many weeks later... when Manaphy did, indeed, return. 💗

But that's neither here nor there... so let us return to our sorrowful farewell.

As for what comes next... well...

❓❓❓

...Yeah, I'm still at a loss for how to explain this one. (Although it did nearly knock me off my seat for a second.)

Unfortunately, we aren't done quite yet, so click here to see the conclusion.

#pmd explorers #pokemon mystery dungeon #randomizer #post game #farewell sweet prince #chapter 25

[geniusbuilttm]

Hello! I love this AU and just want to ask, how did you get started with making this AU? I ask this because I've had thoughts and ideas for an AU and wanted to know a good place to start.

FYI, I'm terrible at drawing so if I were to do this, I'd be doing it through fanfiction.

Hiya! Sorry for the lateness in my answer. I'm really glad you love Surp-Rise! <3

I am not an artist either, and I have more time to write than draw. I would suggest the following for creating an AU:

Think about what you would most want to read about. How do you want characters to be explore, the world to be different, etc. You are at the center of this AU, with your wants, needs, and more. If you try to create something to please others, you will be burned out, hate it, or something else. I've seen it happen to other friends and creators in other communities. Your enjoyment is what comes first, yourself. Keep that in mind because that's the biggest thing.

(More info / in-depth advice and rambling below)

Now, how to get everything down? As an English teacher and Creative Writing teacher, I can vouch for the validity of graphic organizers and planning before doing. If you write without a plan, you'll find yourself stuck and will be frustrated, which can lead to burnout, fatigue, or abandoning projects.

This is just a sample of what I would give my students if they were writing a story since the Hero's Journey has good building blocks, but AUs tend to not follow that since they can continue on way longer. If you have something you want to have a definitive beginning, middle, and end, you can definitely use this and , honestly, repeat the trials / failures, growth with new skills, and that whole area many many times to create the big events. I always have this idea in my head when I am writing with Mara and we plan out each season and movie. You can also, like us, use this over and over again.

A starting point, big event, and conclusion are the biggest things. You want to know what your point A is and how you get to point B. What do you want the character to get to, and how will they get to that point.

For example, let's talk about Season 3 of Surp-Rise. Our end goal was to have Leo properly go through his character arc to become a leader as well as have Raph finish his arc since the ending of Season 2 sort of threw a wrench in what he just went through due to the abrupt ending. Mara and I also wanted Big Mama as a villain. We also had other mini goals in there, but those were the big ones.

We plotted out what steps would be taken to get to each of those points, each of them being an episode. Since it's not just about Raph, Leo, and Big Mama, we also needed other episodes in there that work as important 'fluff' and filler. We roughed out what we wanted to happen in each little event and chapter, and we'd reflect to make sure they all built up to the end goals we set for the end of Season 3. If they didn't work or something was clunky, we'd rework it.

So, in short:

-Figure out what you want the end goal(s) to be at the end. -Determine what you want the focus(es) of your AU to be. -Plan. Plan. And plan some more (with outlines). Even bullet-point lists do good.

I hope that was what you were looking for and was comprehensive enough. <3

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #surp-rise!au #ari answers #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rottmnt au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #writing advice #hope this helps!!!! and thank you for loving and following Mara and I's AU <3

[pidgecv]

mini thingy dump:

idk i’m just thinking abt where i’d want to take big mama and donnie’s relationship after donnie goes through his healing arc.

a big theme found in rise (and tmnt in general but especially with rise and MM) is family. i’m not the first to point it out and i won’t be the last to point it out either. i don’t want big mama to have a full on redemption arc bc i’m not that kind of girly. some people are just too stuck in their echo chambers to redeem. some people just keep reinforcing their own biases with their attitudes. an example of this with my au big mama would be her belief that humans are untrustworthy, cold, and needlessly cruel. this would alter her general disposition when interacting with humans to be less trusting, more abrasive and generally ruder, causing them to dislike and distrust her in return and so they act cold and may even be more likely to deceive her.

i don’t want to redeem her, but i want to give donnie closure. I don’t want to go all steven universe “you can make it different, you can make it right, you can make it better, we don’t have to fight” (banger song bee tee dubs), but I want her to interact with Donnie after the healing arc. During his healing arc, she thinks he’s dead. He didn’t return to the Nexus hotel after the precarious situation she left him in, and she trusts him and thinks she knows him well enough to assume that the only reason he isn’t back by now is because he is unable to come back. I want Donnie to voice his newfound frustrations to her. the whole point of the healing arc his him learning about family (especially that family relationships aren’t meant to be transactional BOOYAH). I want her to hear him out. I want him to yell at her and cry and ask her years worth of questions he was conditioned to never ask. And I want her to tell him. I want her to explain herself. I want him to know that she does care about him and love him. but I also want him to know that she’s in the wrong. I want him to take a second to step back and realize that it isn’t enough to just care ABOUT someone, you have to care FOR them as well. especially children and teenagers.

I think that I’d have Donnie confront Big Mama quite awhile after the healing arc. She’s still his mom, and he’s quite scared of what could happen if he lets her know he’s alive and then tries to leave the Nexus officially. He is canonically an overthinker. But it would eat away at him, the lack of closure. With a lot of help from the boyz he’d eventually work up the courage to talk to her and shit.

Ultimately, I want him to understand. I don’t want him to resent her. Big mama is never going understand what it means to love with no (hehe) WEBS attached. Big mama loves people who offer her something in return.

Big mama would see that Donnie is upset, but she wouldn’t understand WHY. I mean, Donnie himself only recently learned why he was upset during the healing arc.

Donnie isn’t stupid. He isn’t going to waste his energy trying to win an unwinnable fight. but he is going to make the most out of his situation. so he leaves. he tells big mama that he is leaving, that he has a place to stay and that he’s safe there. And big mama lets him. Because she loves him. Even if she doesn’t understand why he’s upset, she still doesn’t want him to be unhappy. she isn’t stupid either. She recognizes that Donnie is beyond capable. sure SHE thinks that his outburst is silly (something she would often tell him as a child whenever he got frustrated and acted like a frustrated kid), this time she realizes that it may not be silly to him. Without saying a word, she tosses him the spare key to his nexus lab and he takes that as permission to take his things and leave for good. Big mama started her journey with Donnie looking for a new battle nexus champion, and she finishes it by putting her own best interests aside because she cares about him too much to make him unhappy. Mothering Donnie changed her. Not into a good person by any means, but into someone willing to put aside her own personal interests and let go of the one she holds dearest. Despite her numerous shortcomings, this action is admirable.

Everyone involved gets their closure. Neither Donnie or Big Mama attempt to reconnect and go about their separate lives with no hatred either way. Sometimes, Donnie wishes he could hate her. On his bad days. But she was his mom, and he still holds that love for her. Big Mama is still rather soft for Donnie. They don’t actively avoid one another and sometimes Donnie’s missions cause them to run into one another. Big Mama respects his decision to remain away from her. She gives him a patented big mama wave and smile and leaves him be. Secretly, she’s quite proud of how skilled and independent he is now.

Don’t get me wrong, Big Mama isn’t happy with the situation. But she’s willing to put that aside for Donnie’s sake. That’s the result of her character development.

I’m just dumping character idea stuff. Idk if this makes sense or not but I just want them to have closure and be happy.

But also, Big Mama royally fucked up Dee. So no redemption arc for her. She still exploits literally everyone else. She still lacks some empathy fs. Like I said she doesn’t understand why or even how Donnie was feeling. She saw it as a temper-tantrum. To her, her parenting is just how the world works. She loved him, fed him, nurtured him, taught him. She recognized that Donnie was upset, and when he offered his own solution to that (getting the FUCK out) she decided to let him go. That’s it. It’s what he wanted, and that’s the extent of her understanding of the situation.

I’m talking in circles I think I’ve made the same points multiple times i just like characters

#cvsays

[warriors-rewritten-chaos]

squilf x nightcloud hypokits, in an au where they become leaders and bramble and crow get exiled/killed/whatever else ? i think they deserve it tbh

Warrior Cats Ships: NightSquirrel Edition

In this AU, Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight break up after it is discovered that the Three aren't his kits and Nightcloud and Crowfeather have a similar breakup after the Gathering where Hollyleaf tells everyone who her and her siblings’ real sire is. Brambleclaw also never becomes Deputy, with Brackenfur being the one in that position instead. Nightcloud approaches Squirrelflight at a Gathering soon after the the end of Arc 3 and they bond over the insanity that just occurred to both of them over the past moons. Over time, they fall in love but neither says anything, mostly to avoid more codebreaking shenanigans. Later on, Nightcloud is made Onestar’s Deputy after Ashfoot’s death, while Squirrelflight takes the place of Brackenfur after he steps down as Deputy of ThunderClan. Squirrelstar becomes Leader after Firestar’s death. When the Great Storm hits, Nightcloud ends up stuck by ThunderClan territory. She and Squirrelstar decide “screw it” and get together. They stay together even when Nightstar goes back to WindClan after the flooding dies down, becoming Leader of WindClan after Onestar’s death. Under the mateship of Nightstar and Squirrelstar, ThunderClan and WindClan run better than they have in many moons.

They have three kits:

Coldslate- black tabby tom with dark green eyes. Trans tom, aromantic asexual. Quiet and standoffish, Coldslate sticks out like a sore paw amongst his two more conspicuous littermates. He would much rather be left alone and strongly dislikes having to be around others. Many cats wonder why he hasn't left to become a loner. If he actually did leave the clans for good, he would probably have an awful time of it. Coldslate needs a highly structured routine to function, and thrives when he has plenty of rules and orders to follow. Although this makes him a very good warrior and clan member, the downside of this is that he does not adapt to change well. In fact, the only thing that will reliably make him upset is messing with his schedule and making changes to his duties without his knowledge. He isn't exactly very close with any of his older siblings, but he gets along with Breezepelt fine enough (mostly because he doesn't talk much). He is a Tactician.

Scorchbough- wild-furred fluffy ginger tolly with amber eyes. AMAB genderqueer, omnisexual. Ze uses ze/zir pronouns. Despite being the largest of zir litter and having the most ThunderClannish build out of zir siblings, Scorchbough is the best runner of the NightSquirrel litter. It is hardly any wonder that ze chose to live in WindClan, where there is lots of open space and ze can run all day. Ze has a lot of energy and cannot stand to sit still for longer than a few minutes. A common punishment for unruly apprentices is to make them spend the day patrolling alongside zir. Most cats can barely keep up with zir, both in pace and in conversation (ze is the fastest talker you will ever meet). Of all zir older siblings, ze is closest with Lionblaze. While Scorchbough often feels out of place in WindClan because of zir unusual appearance, ze loves living there and there's no place ze would rather be at the end of the day. Ze is a Scout.

Freckleplume- black tom with a white speckled face, a large bushy tail, and green eyes. Cis tom, gay. She uses she/he pronouns. Freckleplume is widely considered to be one of the prettiest cats in the clans, and that has absolutely gone to his head. She has always been spoiled by her mothers (though that goes for her other siblings as well) and expects that sort of treatment from everyone, becoming upset if she isn't treated well. He was the only one of his siblings that decided to live in ThunderClan with Mama Squirrelstar. He prefers napping in the shade of the trees to chasing rabbits any day. While Freckleplume is pretty selfish and vain, she does have a few good qualities. He is incredibly smart and knows exactly how to manipulate others to do what he wants, and is very loyal towards his clan and family. The few times he isn't acting in his own interest, he’s acting in theirs. She is a Mediator.

#warrior cats #not rewrite related #hypokits #nightcloud x squirrelflight

[notmaplemable]

siblings AU So Jaune is the one who's adopted what about Saphron I'm sure Kali would adore Adrian

Actually I was thinking more that Ghira and Mama Arc died at some point and then Papa Arc and Kali got together after that.

So Jaune and Blake would be step-siblings.

But yes, Kali does adore Adrian.

[hermits-that-craft]

Homebound - Deya’s childinnit au

This oneshot is for the amazing @deyageka ‘s hotel arc childinnit au! Go check it out, please! This is long, 8 page or 2,641 words, long, please note!

Sam walked home that day, humming to himself. Really, he wasn’t going home per say - just to the small house that Puffy, Foolish and himself had built after they found Tommy. Sam was calm as he could be, he walked instead of using his trident in an attempt to calm himself down after how long the day was. Dream has pulled at his strings early in the morning, and Ranboo sent him on a wild goose chase the second he left the prison. 

Sam hoped that Ranboo’s alright, his message didn’t sound right, even in chat. Why would Ranboo need a totem?

Sam walked into the house, and felt mounting dread as lights didn’t turn on. They should have already been on, the only reason why they would be off is if Puffy had taken Tommy out, but she had sent him a message asking him to come home as soon as possible. They weren’t in danger, she had said, Tommy had just wanted him back.

“I’m back!” Sam called. He smiled as he hoped that the pair were just napping as he shut the door.

False hope can only last so long.

“Puffy!” He screamed, looking at the woman as she lied on the floor. Blood ran down her face, unconscious. Almost like she was dead.

Sam doesn’t remember much of what happened next. Of course, he knows what happened. 

Dream escaped, stealing Tommy. At least, thats the basics. He knows Ranboo was there, he knows that Ranboo was - is - possessed. He knows that Tommy woke up as he was teleported away. He knows that some of the toys that Tommy had were taken.

He knows that Puffy hasn’t woken up yet, even though it’s been three days.

Phil and Techno came around, Techno helping Sam track down Dream and the boys. Tubbo moved Micheal into Sam’s base, hoping that it would be safer. Quackity, Karl, Sapnap and George also joined the search party. The groups split up, scouring the land. Tubbo joins, looking through places he knows Ranboo frequents.

Sam has been banned from searching after Phil found him, half dead, in the snow. 

Ponk helps him heal, but it isn’t enough. Sam can’t - won’t, he’s too much of a coward - voice why he won’t rest. It’s his fault that Tommy’s gone. It’s his fault that Dream got out. He is - was - Tommy’s father, and his was - is - the warden. He failed his jobs. He let not only Tommy, but the entire server down by letting Dream out.

Dream was right, Sam can’t protect anyone, let alone Tommy.  This is his fault.

“Hey, Sam.” Ponk says softly, carrying in some warm soup. “You up to eat now? I’ll eat some too, it can be a real date.”

There’s kindness in Ponk’s eyes, love and sympathy and caring in the brown eyes. Sam doesn’t deserve it. Sam’s hurt too many people, Ponk shouldn’t-

“You’re thinking too hard.” Ponk smiles, handing Sam the soup. “Stop blaming yourself for Tommy’s kidnapping. You couldn’t have known.”

“He’s gone because my prison failed.” Sam whispers. “I failed everyone. I was supposed to be the warden, I was supposed to protect-”

Sam breaks, sobbing. He can’t keep being strong, he can’t keep up this facade. It’s dragging him down, pulling him under the water. Vines wrap around his throat, squeezing the life out of him. The void would be a kinder death, he’s falling apart and-

And Ponk wraps his arms around Sam, letting the creeper hybrid sob into his arms. He holds Sam together, as the world falls apart.

----

“Tommy, settle down.” Dream rolls his eye, not that Tommy can see under his mask. The child is still annoying, but he follows orders easily.

“I want Papa.” Tommy protests, clinging to the Sam Nook toy that Ranboo had stolen for him when Dream took him. “Where’s my Papa.”

“I’m right here.” Dream says, cooing at the child.

“No you’re not.” Tommy glares, tears forming in his tiny eyes. “I want my Papa and Big Q and Karl and Foo’ish and Mama Puff and Sap and George!”

George.

“Do you like George?” Dream asks quietly, shock filling his chest. He could have George back, his best friend.

“Yeah! He reads to me and is safe.” Tommy smiles, tapping the Sam Nook toy around. “Makes me sleepy, though.”

“How would you feel if I asked George to come around?” Dream offers, taking out his communicator.

“Will he?” Tommy looks up, happily. 

“I’m sure he’d love to.” Dream says, and Tommy cheers, throwing Sam Nook to the side as he gives Dream a hug. “But now you need to go to bed.”

Tommy whines, but doesn’t struggle as Dream picks him up. The small child - only two or three years old at most - yawns, snuggling in to sleep as Dream places him in the bed. Dream smiles from under his mask, shutting the door slightly as he leaves. Dream walks down the stairs, watching through the door as Ranboo tidies up the living room. 

Dream whispers to Georgenotfound: Would you like to come around, I haven’t seen you since I left prison. Dream whispers to Georgenotfound: You can bring Sapnap as well, I guess. But I’d like to catch up with you - and tommy’s missing you i guess :/ Georgenotfound whispers to Dream: What are your co’ords? I’ll come now. We can bring Sapnap once he’s calmed down.

Dream smiles, sending through the coordinates without a second thought. Of course George would agree to come around. George is his best friend, he’s Dreams other half. George - and Puffy, a traitorous part of his brain whispers - would do anything for him.

Ranboo stops cleaning for a moment, looking up the stairs. Dream frowns, following his line of sight. No one is there, but he notices the small sobs that emit from the higher floor. Tommy. The child must be crying, maybe a nightmare. He’s too young to remember L’Manburg, the disks or the wars. He only remembers some people, after all.

Sam is one of them. Tubbo was not. A child's mind is a strange place.

Dream walks up the stairs, pausing outside Tommy’s room. He knocks before he enters, warning the boy. Dream turns on the light, not knowing what to expect. 

Tommy sits up in his bed, his eyes screwed shut as he sobs. Tommy hugs Sam Nook close, but no words fall from his lips. Dream sighs, scooping the boy up and gently rocking him. Tommy blinks his eyes open before he screws them shut, crying again. Dream frowns, sinking to the ground as he tries to settle the boy.

“Please stop crying.” Dream mumbles, rocking Tommy. He’s so small, so fragile. Dream can feel every shake of Tommy’s tine body as the child cries himself back to sleep. 

Dream sets the boy back into bed, tucking him in gently. He’ll wait with the boy until Ranboo is done, and then he’ll go to greet George.

----

“Dream sent me a message.” George says, casually leaning against the doorframe. “I have his coordinates.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Eret gasps, covering their mouth. Bad and Phil stand up, looking over George with carefully concealed confusion. “How long ago did you receive the message?”

“About fifteen minutes?” George frowns, checking the time. “Yeah, around fifteen minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t tell us until now?” Techno glares, an axe summoned into his hand.

“I couldn’t find you until now. Are you guys coming or what?”

“Have you told anyone else?” Phil asks, pulling his wings out of his cloak.

“Quackity, Karl and Sapnap are halfway there.” George says, walking towards the coordinates.

“Sam?”

“Doesn’t need the stress.” George says. “He’s too sick.”

“What’s the plan?” Bad asks quietly.

“Karl, Sapnap and Quackity stake the house out from a distance. I go in, distract Dream and Ranboo, and then grab Tommy and run.” George says.

“Where do we come in?” Techno asks.

“I dunno, we didn’t think that far ahead.” George shrugs. “Work it out when we get there.”

And with that, they walk.

----

Dream stands in the kitchen, watching the kettle boil as he waits for George to arrive. He’s boiled the kettle twice so far, waiting for his friend, but he doesn’t want the water to go cold before George can have some tea.

A knock sounds at the door, and Dream cautiously walks over, opening it. White clout glasses and brown hair appears, and Dream relaxes, opening his arms for a hug. George hesitates for a split second before he sinks into the hug. Dream doesn’t - wont - think about it. The hesitation.

“Hey.” Dream breaths, and George smiles. 

“Hey yourself. How are you?”

“Good. I’m a father now.” Dream smirks, and George pulls out from the hug. “Do you want some tea?”

“The gosip type or the good type?” George jokes, and Dream steps aside, showing George the kitchen bench, where two cups are laid.

“Guess.”

----

“Why did George hug him?” Techno whispers to Eret.

“They’re best friends, he’s keeping up the persona.” Eret replies. “Letting Dream’s guard down.”

“Will it work?”

“Well, we won’t know unless George either gets Tommy.” 

“Or he starts screaming.” Phil says darkly, his wings fluttering nervously behind him.

“Dream wouldn’t-” Bad shakes his head. “No, this Dream isn’t the same one who played with Sapnap as a kid. Dream would hurt George, wouldn’t he?”

----

“Is Tommy sleeping alright?” George asks, trying to sound casual. “Sam used to complain that he’d only ever sleep peacefully if I was there.”

It’s a lie, but George and Sam had both noticed that Tommy would sleep easily in George’s arms. Nightmares would still happen, but Tommy would calm down faster.

“He’s been having so many nightmares.” Dream admits. “He also cries a lot, even during the day. I think he needs you around. Familiar faces and all that.”

“What about Ranboo?” George asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Ranboo hasn’t been Ranboo since I escaped.” George can hear the self centered smirk in his voice, the proud lilt of admitting that he’s controlling the teen. “I think Tommy can tell that. It doesn’t seem to bother him all that much, he’s seen my face and isn’t scared.”

George’s stomach drops at that, fear lacing his insides. There’s a reason Dream wears the mask. He doesn’t look safe to be around, he looks like if the void had a neon green eye and a glowing, neon green hole gaping where his mouth and nose should be. But George knows better than to mention that, only raising his eyebrows with surprise.

“I would have thought that would make him cry.” George jokes, lightly elbowing Dream. “Is he sleeping?”

“I hope so, do you want to check?” Dream cocks his head to the side, not too unlike a puppy. George nods, and let’s Dream walk him up the stairs. 

Now’s his chance.

---

Sapnap nervously paces, the treeline hiding him from Dream’s watchful gaze. He’s far enough away to see everything, but not be able to hear anything. It’s safer this way, watching from a distance. Karl and Quackity won’t get hurt if he’s caught, this way. He doesn’t trust the silence, and from the nervous looks on his fiancees’ faces, they don’t like not being able to hear either.

An ear piercing scream tears the silence in half as Karl makes eye contact with Sapnap.

“GEORGE!” Sapnap screams, running towards the house. Snow melts under his feet, he can’t contain his anger. “George!”

Sapnap slams open the door to the house, his hand melting the door handle. George lays on the ground, his glasses under Dream’s foot. Blood. There’s so much blood. Too much blood. George is curled around Tommy, who wails at the top of his lungs. George isn’t moving. Why isn’t George moving? Why isn’t he struggling.

Duck.

Ranboo’s punch misses.

Sweep your opponents leg out from under them.

Ranboo falls to the ground, his head cracking painfully.

Keep your eyes on the room.

Blood pools under Ranboo’s head. Dream laughs.

Don’t let your guard down.

“Did you really think that George could take Tommy from me?”

Don’t let your opponent see any fear.

“I trusted you both. You’re my friends. I can’t believe you would betray me like this.”

Focus on the fight.

“I thought you cared about me, all I wanted was for us to be a family again.”

Dream stands on George, and Sapnap can hear the pained weaze that George breaths out. He’s still alive.

“Eyes on me, Snapnap.” Dream taunts, and Sapnap’s eyes jump back to his once-best friend. “You’ve got to work on that.”

Don’t make the first move.

“Not going to talk to me?”

Go on the defensive.

“That’s rude.”

Duck.

“Let’s dance.”

Duck. Sidestep. Block. Jab. Punch. Duck. Owch, was that his eye? Duck again, keep focusing. Get to the door. Duck. Open the door. Punch. Step outside. Block. Run backwards. Duck. Throw a punch

Sapnap is thrown through the air, landing with a scream on the ground. Snow melts around him, and he lets out a gasp of pain. There’s blood underneath him, staining the snow red. It’s pretty, almost.

Sapnap can see Phil and Techno fight Dream, out of the corners of his eyes. Eret and Bad run into the house, carrying out Ranboo, Tommy and George. They’re safe. Everyone is safe now. Sapnap did good.

“Stay awake Sap.” Karl says, and Sapnap forces his eyes open - when did they close - to see his fiancee’s. Quackity cradles his head in his lap, and Karl fumbles with his pockets. “Keep your eyes open, yeah, that’s good. Keep it up.”

Sapnap groans as Karl pours a healing potion directly onto his torso. It wont help much, there’s something in his back, but he can’t speak. It hurts too much.

“Open your eyes.” Quackity says, and Sapnap feels warm fingers on his cheek. “Open your eyes. BAD! BAD SAPNAP’S-”

----

Sam watches out the window of his room as birds flit around tree branches. Ponk had left the room half an hour ago, just after he served breakfast. Ponk hadn’t said much, simply kissing Sam’s forehead and telling him to relax.

Sam can’t relax. He shouldn’t be allowed to, pneumonia or not. Not while Puffy suffers, while Tommy suffers. 

“Hey Dad.” Quackity’s voice doesn’t surprise Sam, who sees his son every morning.

“Hey duckling.” Sam smiles. “How are you this morning?”

“Good. Sapnap and George are in a bad shape though. Bad kicked me out of their rooms.” Quackity laughs wetly, tears in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Sam says, opening his arms out for Quackity. The man smiles, but shakes his head, wiping away tears. 

“There’s something you need to see.” Quackity says, and apparently thats a cue for something, because Jack opens the door to his room.

Niki wheels Puffy into the room, the woman sitting on a wheelchair, her hair falling down over her shoulders. She’s still got a bandage on her head, but there is colour in her cheeks and a knowing smile on her face.

“Puffy.” Sam gasps, happy to see his friend better, if not up and running. Sam tries to stand, to give Puffy a hug, but Quackity just pushes him back into his bed.

“If you’re that happy to see me, you’ll need someone to hold you back with who Foolish has.” Puffy jokes, though her voice is hoarse.

Foolish walks into the room, gently holding a wiggling Tommy. Sam gasps, and true to Puffy’s prediction, it takes Quackity and Jack to stop Sam from getting out of his hospital bed. Foolish passes Tommy to Sam, and the man holds onto Tommy gently, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s here. He’s safe, finally.

“How-”

“We’ll explain later.” Quackity says. “Just relax for now. Everyone is safe.”

#hotel arc childinnit au #dream smp au #dream smp fanfiction #dreamwastaken #awesamdude #georgenotfound #sapnap #dream smp ensemble

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

out of context of course, what do you take me for? a sane person?

"they made lightning mcqueen hot"

"inch resting"

"Nix: Cars (2006) several people are typing..."

"im evaporating"

"enjoy precipitation"

"tow mater is more attractive than lightning mcqueen/hj"

"lightning mcqueen looks like he would call me a slur"

"why did I come back to a discussion regarding the attractiveness of vehicles"

"lark is the braincell of shiftblr tbh"

"you all need some grass in your life"

"me over here simping for block men and now literal cars"

"didn't nick wilde commit fraud canonically"

"i have no strong opinions on whether or not nick wilde is attractive"

"I AM AROMANTIC AND I AM NOT IMMUNE TO NICK WILDE"

"I am bisexual and I. Am not into Nick Wilde based on a simple fact he looks like he will drink all my pepsi and call me names"

"What is shiftbkr but not a bunch of simps"

"cries in Bianca Monroe"

"listen i have a folder called gayass

it is mostly pictures of kyoka jiro and virgil sanders"

"Nick Wilde x Reader where he steals your car 📷 carjacker to lovers AU 📷"

"he says "mama i like to step on keyboard""

"MY MOM JUST WALKED IN AND I HAD TO TELL HER I WAS LOOKING AT LIGHTING MC QUEEN HUMAN FANART"

"crab walks away"

""Y/N..." Nick whispered into your ear. "Your car...is a Honda Civic, right?" You looked up at Nick with a baffled expression. "Nick, my beloved? Whatever are you talking about?" "Just asking..." He said as he let you out of his embrace. "Hey, wanna see a magic trick, babe?" Your eyes sparkled. "Really, Nick? Of course!" Nick smiled. "Ok, close your eyes!" You giggled and closed your eyes, waiting for Nick to tell you to open up. Instead, you heard the loud rumble of a car starting up, and you open your eyes. Nick has stolen your car, and he has driven off into the sunset..."

"did y'all know his name used to be canonically Montgomery--he changed it to lightning mcqueen to get rid of his past"

"That is my exit number"

"cars trauma arc"

"wait do y'all know about car jesus" "as if jesus wasn't a ford focus in the bible"

"oh yall do not want to know about the trauma in my cars dr lmao"

"Dewit tau style babey make Lightning McQueen outlive everyone and stalk their reincarnations"

"Do they baptize other cars in like gasoline then"

"there is a pope car in the cars universe which means car jesus died for cars sins"

"NOT THE BOOMER MEMES"

"-lays facedown on the floor while caramelldansen plays-"

"like im serious how many of you guys endorse me falling face down on my floor" (NOT THE SAME PERSON AS PREVIOUS QUOTE)

"I will be Tall and no one can stop me"

"is a soft floor?"

"stop I thought faceplant meant like a succulent in the shape of a face instead of falling onto your noggin for a solid 10 seconds"

"Touch some grass??? What about eating grass"

"what if for every employee of the month i just printed out really horrible boomer memes"

"what ab smoking grass /j"

"Can the grassdirt smoothie be a special in the cafe"

"PLEASE IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR REWRITINH THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE WHIKE SPEEDRUNINT MINECRAFT"

"you have to get good dirt from like the middle of a pennsylvanian forest for it to taste good though"

"I ate a four leaf clover as a kid cause i thought it would make me lucky"

"guys how do i see the mee6 leaderboard"

"I used to think i was half dragon and I ate plants out of sidewalk cracks"

"i think i punched someone"

"my parents told me to stop doing that so I looked at them and ate a flower"

"I ate grass when I was 9 bc I read warrior cats and thought I was a medicine cat ....................."

"bees are just spicy flies"

"I had a mental breakdown when I was three cause I didn’t know how to turn off a phone"

"My mom drank a bee once"

"when I was a baby I kinned ink sans."

"bro who here find the yellow hat man from curious george fine as heck 📷📷📷"

"mY LUNGSSSSSS"

"no one topping Him"

"I like em big"

"I think Moto Moto has no game like move over hunky boy I could beat you 1v1 Roblox Arsenal 📷📷📷"

"If you didnt have a crush on springtrap, jeff the killer, or Underfell/Gaster/Error sans don't talk to me /j"

"LOOK THEY'RE BOTH DILFS WITH ABS THAT WOULD FIGHT GOD"

"ZORO IS BANNED"

"Guys please help I found my old fnaf fanart from when I was 8 I'm in literal tears"

"OH NO BOT MY FIFTH GRADE HAMILTON PHASE"

"The worst attraction ive ever had has to be Sombra Overwatch"

"My family is like "save all ur art so I can sell it when you're famous" I literally could not sell this if I tried"

"screaming puppet"

"I just remembered Ive drawn overwatch/hamilton crossover fanart"

"my hermit crabs ate each other again"

"we're cannibals ????"

"having me here is a curse you have inflicted on yourselves and I for one am glad for it <3" "scitters around like a crab in anticipation"

"CARB DAY"

"WE NEED TO HAVE A WATCH OARTY"

"hey y'all ill be right back i have to throw away a crab carcass"

"if I watch cars I'm going to start laughing in the middle of it nonstop just because the word cars is funny and also cars are funny like how do you move silly little metal box with rubber circles"

"Lark asleep post catboy pitbul"

"Mwista Wowldwide! Nya!" "hermit crab 2: electric boogaloo"

"Is that why your name is chaos"

"manifest the crab power!!"

"cool dex fact: i can't read 📷"

"sighs adds to worship these entities list"

"with a knife <3"

"yeah and if he betrays me I could probably throw him across the atlantic ocean"

"give me his eyes"

"my good citizen i am a- wait no im nonbinary nvm"

"it worked on a fish idk what to tell you"

"what is gender??? Is that a board game?? If so can I be apples to apples that one's my favorite"

"CHUTES AND LADDERS"

"anyways actually my gender is Candyland"

"Oh god romes the destroyer of friendships/j"

"i am a simple gay i see math i run in the opposite direction survival instincts 101"

"math my beloathed"

"algebra makes me want to rip open a bag of swedish fish and swallow them whole"

"cackles in they're au characters and this will be very fun"

"pog !!!! me too ksajgks one of my drs is a sanders sides au"

"Is that bipper"

"tumblr sexyman"

"Good because he’ll fuck u up if u hurt a child"

"I want a wing-suit"

"looks like a bean would poison someone"

"my hermit crabs are cannibals what can i say"

"sonic the hedgehog kinnie"

"get yourself a man who is capable of the most ungodly actions but won't do them because of their morality owo"

"tell him he can steal my wallet"

"eyes"

"idk about y'all but I need blueberry sweet tea to live"

"y'know the red souls from soul eater i really want to eat those"

"but like only respectable crimes like stealing from elon musk"

"You can go cultbashing with he!"

"He acts like a flamboyant gay man, but if a flamboyant gay man was straight."

"Simp Satan 📷"

"definitely arson"

"They look like they enjoy lemon squares and other lemon desserts"

"Satan is all-powerful but he spends most of his time building honeymoon locations because he is convinced that the protag loves him"

"bc shes the reincarnation of his dead wife or something i guess"

annd here's a quote from our very own dream (@shiftingwastaken) that sums this post up:

"shiftblr but context makes it worse"

#not shifting #shitpost #out of context #tw cannibalism #tw stealing #tw poison #tw swearing #tw: drugs #tw: smoking #tw: death

[lunarthing951]

MCYT Story Prompts LETS GOOOOO-

|

This Will Be In No Order So One Second You Might Be Getting HermitCraft, Another DreamSMP, And Another Some Weird Crossover Between The OriginsSMP And One Of The One Life Series (Nothing Is Guaranteed). And With That Said, Let The Ideas Commence.

|

DSMP- Ranboo & Tubbo Having A Platonic Marriage Event. (Fluff)

DSMP- An AU Where Tommy Faked Betraying Techno In The Destroyed Community House Thing, Letting Techno Know Just Before The Betrayal With A PM So The Entire Thing Was An Act To Get The Antarctic Anarchists A Spy. (Story/Angst)

Origins- Birds Can't See Glass. Origins SMP Philza Is A Bird. Funny Stuff Ensues. (Crackpost)

Crossover- Grian And Philza Meet, Now There Is A Parrot And A Crow Both Trying To Adopt The Other Because Mama-Bird. (Fluff)

DSMP- Everyone On The Dream SMP, Enemies Or Not, Protecting Purpled So The Last Minor Without Trauma On The Server Continues To Not Have Trauma. (Crackpost)

DSMP- Tubboat. (Crackpost?)

DSMP- Everyone's Dad Schlatt AUs Are With Tubbo... So Why Not Tommy? Why Not Dad Jschlatt With A Chaos Child Named TommyInnIt? (Anything)

DSMP- The Manburg Exile Arc But It's Tommy Going Insane Instead Of Wilbur. (Angst)

Hermitcraft- Hermitcraft Zombie Apocalypse AU, No More Context For You. (Story/Angst)

Hermitcraft- Zedaph And Impulse Decided To Summon A Demon And So Tango Happened. (Anything)

Any- Child 'Someone' Walks Into A Village And Is Greeted By An Iron Golem Handing Them A Poppy... They Then Proceed To Live In This Village But Eventually Get Found. (Anything)

DSMP- Eggpire Technoblade. (Story)

Hermitcraft- X Moves Them All Into The Nether Update But Accidentally Locks The Server In Hardcore Mode. (Story/Angst)

Hermitcraft?- Hermitcraft But The Egg Is Somehow There. (Story)

DSMP- The L'Manburg Revolution But The Character Roles Are Backwards. Wilbur Is Dream And Vise Versa. Not A Swap AU, Just The Character Roles Change. (Story)

Tales Of The SMP- Karl Time Travels Into The Past And Sees Phil. (Crackpost?)

DSMP- (TW: Execution And Alcohol Mention) Pog2020 Wins And Basically All The Same Things Happen Like With Fundy Being Executed Instead Of Tubbo And Wilbur Being The Alcoholic President And All That Jazz. (Story)

DSMP- Tubbo (The 5'6 Child) Loses His Last Canon Life To Bad (The 9'6 Demon) Stepping On Him. (Crackpost)

DSMP- Ghostbur But He's Basically Just Alivebur But Dead, Just Popping Up Near People And Saying "Hey, Ever Think About Arson?" (Story?)

Hermitcraft- MCR VS HEP But The Character Roles Are Reversed. (Story)

Crossover- Dream SMP Members Meet Their Origins SMP Counterparts. (?)

Hermitcraft- RPG AU. (?)

Origins- Origins Swap. Like- Now Niki Is Fire Woman And Jack Is A Fish Or Philza Can Be The Ender Boi While Ranboo Can 🌟Fly🌟 (Story)

Hermitcraft- Grian Gets A Hermit-Challenged To Mama Bird All The Hermits In 24 Hours. (Fluff)

Any- The Server Is Just A Group Chat. (Crackpost?)

Tales Of The SMP- (TW: Blood Mention) The Lost City Of Mizu But Ranbob Isn't Out For Blood.

Hermitcraft- Grian Is Locked In A Cell In The Evil Hermits's Base... And Then Realizes Just How Crackposty They Can All Be When He's Taken To The Living Room With About A Third Of Them All There Trying To Either Get Him On Their Side Or Just Downright Interrogate Him For Info.

Any- Dadmin... AKA The Admin Being A Father Figure To Someone. (Fluff)

Hermitcraft- The Jangler Is Back... And This Time, It's Not Scar. (Story)

DSMP- (TW: Execution Mention) Techno Being Forced Into The Side Of New L'Manburg During His Execution. Will He Take The Government Down From The Inside Or Will He Learn To Let It Go.. Or Rather.. Learn To Be Apart Of The Very Thing He Hates. (Story)

Hermitcraft- Grian Uses Beef's Cloning Machine But, Instead Of A Clone, They Get NPC Grian / NPG. (Story/Crackpost)

DSMP- Fundy, While Going On His Own Road After The End Of New L'Manburg, Slowly Goes Mad Without Power. In This State, Hallucinating A Different Type Of Ghostbur. A Ghostbur That Acts Just Like The Alivebur... And This Alivebur Still Wants Chaos, And Is Inviting Fundy To Revel In Chaos And Insanity. (Story/Angst)

Crossover- Xisuma In His Bee Suit Thing And Tubbo The Beekeeper Bee-Child Meet... You Know Where I'm Going With This... Chaos And Happy Stuff Shall Ensue. (Fluff)

Crossover- Philza Finds Grian (Who Let's Assume Is A Parrot Hybrid) And Decides "Hmm... Son." (Fluff)

DSMP- Protege Tommy AU But Him And Dream Have An Actually Stable Relationship Involving Dream Teaching Tommy The Ways Of 🌟Manipulation🌟 And All That Jazz. (Story)

DSMP- (TW: Implied Fight) Y'all Know How Ranboo's Character Gets More Agitated The More Eyes That Are On Him? Now He's In Another One Of Those Situations And Then Accidentally Lashes Out At Everyone, Perhaps Even Hurting Someone Physically Before He Snaps Himself Back And Realizes What He's Done. (Angst)

DSMP- Sam Holds A Cat. No Context. Sam The Creeper Hybrid Man Is Now Holding A Cat For A Reason Of Your Choice. (Crackpost?)

Hermitcraft- Hermitcraft But Make Them All 🌟Slightly Older🌟 (?)

DSMP- Sam Actually Does Get Infected By The Egg Eventually But This Snaps Ponk Out Of It. He Didn't Actually Want What This Egg Wants, He Wanted His Friend... And He Just Lost Him... Just As Sam Had Lost Ponk Before. Will Ponk Go Back To The Egg Or Will Sam Snap Himself Out Of It For Ponk's Sake? (Angst?/Fluff?/Story)

DSMP- Techno The Dreamon. No More Context. (?)

|

Just A Reminder That You Can Use Any Of These As Long As You Credit Me For The Idea. My Preferred Way For You To Do This Is Tagging Me At The Start Or End Of Your Writing But You Can Do It Whatever Way You'd Like. ^v^

|

( Note: This List May Be Edited To Add More Prompts )

#story prompt #mcyt #hermitcraft #dsmp #origins smp #tales of the smp

[howlingday]

“Time traveling Au. Dragon slayer.”

Older Jaune and Yang are dropped into the Past, Right after JNPRs Dance session. In their Disorientation They still call eachother by their pet Names, how does The past versions react?

Peefect... WAIT, SHIT, NO! I MEANT-

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

Jaune: That was great!

Pyrrha: It was, wasn't it?

Jaune: Pyrrha...

Pyrrha: Yes, Jaune?

Jaune: I... I just wanted to say- ACK!

Jaune: OOF! Ugh, my back. At least I landed on... Oh no...

Jaune: Oogh...

Jaune: OH GOD, I KILLED HIM!

Nora: NOOOOOOOOO!

Jaune: Please, put me down.

Jaune: Oh, sorry! Good news! He's not dead!

Nora: Yay! Thanks, Jaune!

Pyrrha: I... am very confused.

Ren: Well, I'm sure if we all remain calm and take this one step at a time. Sir, who are you?

Jaune: Me? Well, I'm, uh, I'm Jaune Arc.

Nora: No way! That's Jaune's name!

Jaune: Yeah, I know. He's me in the past.

Pyrrha: In the past? Then you're from the future?

Jaune: Yup, that's right. Two years into the future.

Ren: You're taking this time travel thing so casually.

Jaune: Oh, it may look like it, but I've found a way to bottle up and repress my emotions, so I can hit harder when I fight.

Pyrrha: Is that really healthy?

Jaune: Oh, you sound just like my girlfriend.

Pyrrha: R-Really? Um, does that mean you and-

Yang: BANANA-BREAD!

Jaune: Muffin-Top?! Excuse me!

Ren: ...Was it just me, or did that sound like-?

Blake: Weiss, get a hold of yourself.

Weiss: I can't! Not when there are two of them!

Yang: Hey, easy there, Yang-Point-Oh! I still have a ton of questions.

Yang: Later, Yang Classic. I need to find my man.

Yang: Is he really so important, you have to ditch spending time with yourself?

Yang: When I'm still trying to trust him by himself? Yeah, I do. Now hush for a sec, I think I heard him call back.

Yang: Relax, if he really needed you, he would-

Jaune: This dance is so full of life, it must be Crowd-Fun-Dead!

Yang: ...That was terrible.

Yang: Yeah, but then again, we're comedy geniuses. He's still trying.

Jaune: There's my Golden Girl!

Yang: My Knightrider! Mm!

Jaune: Are you okay? Are you hurt?

Yang: You know me, I can bounce back from anything. And bounce on anything~!

Jaune: Sizzle-Smooch, not in front of the past us!

Yang: It's fine, Lemon-Lips! Speaking of, Mama needs her Vitamin C~.

Jaune: Coming right up, Hot-Stuff~.

Yang: STOP! Okay! That's enough for tonight!

Ozpin: Indeed. Perhaps the two of you would care to explain yourselves? Preferably in my office?

Jaune: Ozpin...

Yang: Shshsh, it's okay, Stud-Muffin. It's just him back then. We can change the future.

Jaune: If we do, will we stay together, Cupcake?

Yang: I can't say for their future, but for ours, I'm here with you.

Jaune: Yang~.

Yang: Jaune~.

Ozpin: Ahem! Yes, I, uh, suppose we can continue this another-

Yang: You have a spare room?

Ozpin: Er, yes, but-

Yang: We need it.

Ozpin: Er, yes, but after-

Yang: Now.

Ozpin: (Sighs) Ah, to be young again.

#rwby #rwby timeline #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #nora valkyrie #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #ozpin #dragonslayer

[silylilboi]

What I would do with the sides if I wrote them in different AUs

Or the sides (plus occasionally Remy, Emile, and Thomas) in different situations and other random things because I’m bored again.

Hamilton

Logan as Hamilton

Patton as Eliza

Roman as Angelica

Virgil as Laurens

Janus as Burr

Remus as Maria Reynolds

Thomas as Peggy

Remy as Mulligan

Emile as Lafayette

Harry Potter

Logan as Hermione

Patton as Ron/Neville

Roman as Harry/Fred or George

Virgil as Neville/Draco

Janus as Draco

Remus as Fred or George/Crabbe or Goyle

Remy as Lee

Emile as Cedric

Thomas as ??? (I have no idea. Let me know who you think he would be)

Gravity Falls

Logan as Dipper

Patton as Mable

Roman as Pacifica/Wendy/one of the two cops (idr their names)

Virgil as ??? (I couldn't think of someone)

Janus as Bill (duh. Basically the same person tbh)

Remus as Stan/Old Man McGucket (was that his name? It's been awhile since I've watched it. Sorry)

Remy as Wendy/Pacifica

Emile as Soos

Thomas as ??? (Couldn't think of one for him either)

Beauty and the Beast

Logan as Belle

Patton as Mrs. Potts/Maurice

Roman as Gaston

Virgil as Lefou

Janus as a mix of Lumier and Clogsworth

Remus as the Beast

Remy as ???

Emile as Maurice/Chip

Thomas as Chip

Aladdin

Logan as the sultan

Patton as Genie

Roman as Aladdin

Virgil as Jasmine

Janus as Jafar

Remus as Iago

Remy as Abu

Emile as Carpet

Thomas as ???

The Little Mermaid

Logan as Sebastian/Grimsby/King Triton

Patton as Ariel

Roman as one of the sisters/King Triton/Flottsum or Jettsum (how do you spell their names? One of the eels is what I'm talking about)

Virgil as Flounder

Janus as Eric

Remus as Chef Louis/Ursula/Scuttle/Flottsum or Jettsum

Remy as Ursula/Flottsum or Jettsum

Emile as Max(?)(I don't really know)

Thomas as King Triton

Princess and the Frog

Logan as Tiana/Evangeline

Patton as Ray/Louis

Roman as Naveen/Lottie/Louis

Virgil as Tiana

Janus as Dr. Facilier

Remus as Lawrence

Remy as Lottie/Naveen

Emile as Mama Odie/Ray

Thomas as Louis/Lottie's Dad

Cinderella

Logan as Lady Tremaine/Prince Charming/the king/the royal advisor

Patton as Cinderella/the king/Gus Gus

Roman as one of the step sisters/Prince Charming/Fairy Godmother/Jacque

Virgil as Fairy Godmother/the royal advisor

Janus as Lady Tremaine

Remus as one of the step sisters

Remy as one of the step sisters

Emile as Cinderella/the king/Gus Gus

Thomas as the king/Jacque/Gus Gus

My Little Pony

Logan as Twilight Sparkle

Patton as Pinky Pie/Fluttershy

Roman as Rarity/Rainbow Dash

Virgil as Fluttershy

Janus as ???

Remus as ???

Remy as Rarity

Emile as Fluttershy/AppleJack

Thomas as Spike

Hogwarts Houses (where I would place everyone)

Logan in Ravenclaw/Gryffindor

Patton in Hufflepuff/Gryffindor

Roman in Gryffindor/Slytherin

Virgil in Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw

Janus is Slytherin/Ravenclaw

Remus in Gryffindor

Remy in Gryffindor/Slytherin

Emile in Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw

Thomas in Hufflepuff

Which country they would be from (if they weren't from the US)

Logan from France

Patton from Australia (just a slight accent though. Just enough to tell where he is from. And no, he does not kill the freakishly large spiders there. And yes, he does still hate spiders.)

Roman from Spain/Mexico

Virgil from Scotland/Ireland

Janus from France/the UK

Remus from Germany

Remy from Brazil

Emile from Italy

Thomas from Italy/Brazil

Highschool Cliques

Logan as a nerd

Patton as one of the nice, lesser known popular kids/theatre kids

Roman as a theatre kid/jock

Virgil as one of the loners

Janus as a loner/popular/smart kids

Remus as a theatre kid/jock

Remy as a popular kid

Emile as one of the nice,lesser known popular kids

Thomas as a theatre kid

What everyone's sexuality/gender identity would be in a human AU

Logan would be a biromantic Demisexual male, he/him

Patton would be a pansexual male, he/him

Roman would be a gay trans male, he/him

Virgil would be a Non-binary bisexual, they/them

Janus would be a gender fluid bisexual, any pronouns

Remus would be a gay trans male, he/him

Remy would be an omnisexual male, he/him

Emile would be a pan romantic gender fluid, pronouns depend on the day

Thomas would be a gay male, he/him pronouns

Which store they would go to in the mall

Logan would go to the mall just to keep an eye on the others

Patton would go to Box Lunch/Old Navy/Bath & Body Works/Build-a-Bear

Roman would go to Box Lunch/Build-a-Bear

Virgil would go to Hot Topic

Janus would go to Spencers/Hot Topic

Remus would go to Spencers

Remy would go to Starbucks

Emile would go to Box Lunch/Build-a-Bear/Bath & Body Works

Thomas would go to Box Lunch/Build-a-Bear

Dr. Dolittle (the one with RDJ)

Logan as Dr. Dolittle

Patton as Lily Dolittle

Roman as Lady Rose

Virgil as Stubbins (there's just a lot of parallels between Stubbins' arc in the movie and Virgil being accepted as a light side in the series)

Janus as Lord Badgely

Remus as Müdfly

Jurassic World, including other movies (both people/dinosaurs)

Logan as Dr. Wu/Claire/Blue

Patton as Grey (I think that’s how his name is spelled)/ankylosaurus

Roman as Owen/T-Rex

Virgil as Zach/Delta(smart but also the first one to die)

Janus as Dr. Wu/the main bad guy from the second movie(can't remember his name for the life of me)/Indoraptor

Remus as Hoskins/Allosaurus(mainly for the split second it get hit in the face with a boulder)

Big Hero Six

Logan as Tadashi

Patton as Honey Lemon/Callahan(if I do write this AU he would be the villain)

Roman as Wasabi

Virgil as Go-Go

Janus as Hiro

Remus as Fred

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Logan as one of the gargoyles

Patton as one of the gargoyles

Roman as Phoebus

Virgil as Esmerelda

Janus as Quasimodo

Remus as the jester who tells the story(and maybe as Frollo? I don't really know)

#patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #random #head canon #alternate universe #sanders sides #i still don’t know how to tag #please help

[katekyo-hitman-aus]

Extra-Terrestrial Involvement AU:

- Namimori is a hotbed for ufo sightings and alien activity, unknown to the government. Due to it's large forest density, mountain and inconspicuous nature, most locals and ex mafia retirees wave it off or let the ETs off with a slap on the wrist for bad driving. "Not my monkeys, not my circus" is the motto.

- Tsuna's unfortunate luck lands him into a problem as he's in range for a space shuttle crash and ends up giving him quite a bit of bodily harm (anything from nerve damage to lost limbs)

- Not wanting this incident to blow out of proportion, the extraterrestrial in charge offers to nurse Tsuna back to full health and restore anything lost with technology or nanotechnology. But due to this being the equivalent of an organ change surgery, they need the permission of a legal guardian and explicit understanding of the patient in question.

- Tsuna, being a kid whose dream was to become a robot and who reads too much manga for his own good, slaps on Iemitsu's name as permitting adult and agrees wholeheartedly.

- Post surgery recovery, Tsuna finds that no, secret alien technology did not make him less clumsy or smarter, but has instead made him get faster and weirder reactions (summer saulting to try and avoid falling via tripping)

- Tsuna doesn't care much, he got a cool alien robot arm with a plasma canon, cyborg nerves and radio horns out of the ordeal. He's happy.

- Reborn, when he finds out, is both happy and not so much so.

- His new student apparently got scifi prosthetics six months before Reborn was even given his newest mission and loves it like a badge of honor. The chaos you can brew from this is enjoyable. Realising that Tsuna can manifest dying will flames through only one arm and has trouble thinking due to radio frequencies being turned up to 11 is not enjoyable.

-Reborn asks how Tsuna even got this and if it's reversible. Tsuna explained what happened.

Reborn: how did Mama even agree to letting you get extra terrestrial prosthetics?

Tsuna: she didn't.

Reborn: then who did?

Tsuna: *shows copy of the contract*

Reborn:... Iemitsu agreeing to this somehow makes sense but only if you had spun some bold faced lie to his face.

Tsuna: and what a bold faced lie it was.

- Space Prosthetics aren't omnipotent and have side effects: sudden bursts of hypersensitivity, phantom pains, numbness or coldness surrounding circuits, minor glitches responding to chemical reactions in the body and little to no synchronisation of Dying Will Flames.

- Luckily, the last part of it isn't a problem until the Varia arc. And oh boy is it a problem, as Tsuna demonstrates point blank to the Varia and his father that the reason why he technically can't inherit the Vongola Ring is due to the fact that it literally doesn't react to him due to no Flame conductivity.

- Reborn tells him to suck it up and use his brain. As it turns out, a flame conduit chain around gis neck is all they need. Xanxus is not as murderous towards Tsuna due to his own trauma concerning nerve damage and phantom pains as well as Tsuna literally opening his biggest secret to avoid the mafia, but all the same he thinks that Tsuna has double standarded cowardice.

Xanxus: you'd willingly lie about parental permission to get robot prosthetics that can cause pain but can't step up as Vongola heir? You're pathetic.

Tsuna: hey, I have good reasons. Robot prosthetics are cool and live-saving. Inheriting a crime family is traumatising and life-ending. If I had to chose one of the two, take your best fucking guess.

Xanxus: We Are Not The Same.

Tsuna: No The Fuck We Aren't.

- Hayato's admiration towards Tsuna rises by 100 because not only is his Jyuudaime a cool and forgiving boss, he's also part ET which is literally the dream.

- Spanner and Giovanni (+maybe Verde) get interested by the prosthetics and think of a way to make an weapon array that could help channel Tsuna's flames.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #katekyo hitman aus #sawada tsunayoshi #khr xanxus #khr reborn #Alien Prosthethics Au #submission

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Crucible (part two)

[UK Tour; Carrie AU 2]

Part 1

Word count: 9240

TW: Child abuse, blood, the r-word again, emotional manipulation, minor implied sexual content (as in: one paragraph and nothing actually happens), underage drinking, vomit

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

-Eve Was Weak-

  “Jesus watches from the wall,

But his face is cold as stone

And if he loves me,

As she tells me,

Why do I feel so alone?”

Mulaney looked up from the notebook, which is studded with doodles of crosses and stars and hearts, and set his gaze on the teenager sitting across from him. Her arms are crossed over her chest again and she’s leaned back in her chair, jaw set thoughtfully. She’s got some sass, but was one of the easiest, most well-mannered people he’s spoken to for questioning before. Plus, she made the examination more fun with her snarky comments, which were even able to make his stoic partner who ran the camera, Madeline, chuckle or smile from time-to-time.

  “Any speculation as to who the author is?” 

  “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say Joan Seymour.” Katherine Howard said. That sass mentioned before slipped back into her voice, edging her words in a way that made Mulaney huff out an amused breath.

  “What do you suppose she’s trying to say?” Mulaney questioned.

  “Probably, ‘help me, my mother’s insane.’” Katherine responded.

  “Interesting.”

Katherine raised her eyebrows at him, sniffing. She’s poised and waiting.

  “Do you consider yourself anti-religious, Katherine?” Mulaney asked.

Katherine snorted a light laugh. “No.” She said. “I just think some people take it too far, that’s all.”

  “And you disapprove?”

  “Look--” Katherine uncoiled her arms and sat up straight. At Mulaney’s side, Madeline quirked a brow at her change in stance, intrigued. “I’m all for believing whatever it is that you believe, but you say ‘religion’ to me, and I’m thinking da Vinci’s Last Supper. Jesus looks sad. The apostles look miserable. I don’t want to go to that party!”

Mulaney blinked at her logic. Katherine looked back at him, then turned her gaze up thoughtfully. She drummed her pointer fingers against the tabletop.

  “Shouldn’t religion be more like Dogs Playing Poker?” She said.

  “Dogs playing…”

  “Poker.” Katherine finished for Mulaney. “I can’t tell you what any of the apostles are doing in The Last Supper. But I can tell you that the little white bulldog is holding an ace under the table.”

Mulaney unsuccessfully tried to smother a smile. Katherine caught it, grinning.

  “See?” She said. “That’s fun! I’m engaged! There’s wonderment and awe! That other stuff is just all ritual and punishment. And it’s way too weird and way too serious.” She leaned back again, studying Mulaney and Madeline’s expressions. “What? It is!”

------

Jane Seymour was a woman of many faces, and not in the mentally ill sort of way, although some people assumed she may have been harboring multiple personality disorder within her wretched brain. She had many masks to wear, some cold and stoic, others sinister and wicked, and a few that may have even been sweet and nurturing. When she was at the local laundromat she worked at in town, several customers reported how she would “look at them like she was assessing their souls”, like she was judging whether or not they deserved to go to heaven. She thought most of them were Godless and muttered about it constantly, regardless of if they could hear her or not. She simply did not care.

Many people thought she would never delve into the sexual world of intercourse, what with all her screws loose that warded away most men and her extreme devotion to Christ, so it was quite shocking to hear the screams that erupted from the Seymour bungalow May 13th, 2005. Police were called, but had to wait to get a search warrant, so they, along with several neighbors, sat on the curb for hours, listening to the piercing cries that split the street in two. By the time police finally burst into the house to locate the struggle, they thought they were too late when they reached the master bedroom, which was covered in blood. But then they saw the woman rocking back and forth on the soaked bed, holding a tiny red baby with tufts of whitish hair to her left breast and everything clicked into place.

Several believed this woman was not fit to raise a child for obvious reasons, but police had no right to take a baby away from its mother, so the infant stayed and grew up in the house she was born in. It wasn’t like there was any place she could go, anyway. Jane’s husband was nowhere to be found. 

Henry Tudor is--was--had been a mountain of a man. His arms were like truck tires, round and firm to the touch. He had broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and a huge body to go along with his already giant frame. Coppery gold hair framed his head and his bright sapphire blue eyes struck a stare that could put someone six feet under. Every single aspect of the man’s body boasted of an indestructible juggernaut.

And yet, he hasn’t been seen in fifteen years.

Rumors bubbled up. They always did. Some speculated he ran away to avoid the burden of taking care of a child or to simply get away from his insane wife. Others, mainly rowdy teenagers itching for drama, said Jane killed him and sacrificed his body to the Lord. Because of that, stories of the Seymour bungalow being haunted were created, although there was no proof of anything of the sort. Because they weren’t true. But Jane Seymour had been out to kill.

Her girl-spawn had barely been a few months old at the time. She laid in her homemade crib, gurgling and laughing, staring with strange blue eyes up at a mobile that was made for her. Jane crept up to her and aimed a knife for her throat.

Henry stopped her.

  “You shall name her Johanna,” He had rumbled, easing Jane’s hand back to her side. “Joan for short.”

  “Like Joan of Arc.” Jane had observed.

  “Yes,” Henry had said.

  “Hm.” Jane had peered down at the wriggling little beast. “I suppose that does make it slightly less Godless.”

  “Yes,” Henry had said again. “Wait and see.”

And then, he was gone, disappearing into the night and never coming back.

Jane should not have let him stop her.

The child, of course, did not know this.

Joan slipped through the front door, but not without noticing a few neighbors peeking avidly out of their own windows, ears pricked. The whole neighborhood, possibly even the entire city, was always so interested in every little detail of the Seymour family’s lives. At least a few of them actually had the decency to duck back inside when they saw her coming up the sidewalk. One didn’t even notice her, it seemed, because he was still staring when she disappeared inside, while another was only pretending to not snoop while she fussed unnecessarily over her rose garden. Joan shot the flowers a sharp look, willing them to burst out of the ground and bite the lady’s nose off, but the front door closed behind her before she could see if anything happened. From the silence outside, she assumed nothing did.

(damn stupid woman wish she’d just go blind)

The smell of cinnamon was drifting through the entrance hallway. Maroon and orange (never red) candles were lit up throughout the downstairs area; Mama always preferred their warm glow over the harsh fluorescence of the overhead lights. Mama’s favorite radio station, WORT Radio, could be heard playing from the kitchen, along with the sound of singing.

Mama’s singing.

  “Jesus, possess me!

Sweet savior, be my shepherd

Bless each endeavor

Till I finally join you forever”

A giddy tingling sensation zipped up through Joan’s spine. She always loved the sound of Mama’s singing. Her voice was so silken and honey-slicked, like the gentle croon of an angel. Joan said she should join a gospel, that she would be the best singer in the entire group, but Mama would always wave this off with a dismissive hand and a chuckle.

Joan ventured further into the house, feeling lighter and lighter with each step. She entered the lounge, where a Black Forest cuckoo clock clucked peacefully on the wall. There were many religious pictures and crucifixes in here, but Joan’s favorite was the photo of Jesus leading a herd of baby lambs through a beautiful flowered field. It radiated so much innocence, unlike all the other paintings of punishment and hellfire and sin. It was hung up beside the huge wooden cross with reddened edges over the unused fireplace. Joan did her best to never look at that decoration in particular.

Weaving around the brown felt couch and two moth-eaten velvet throne chairs facing each other, Joan glided into the kitchen. It was an old kitchen indeed, with an oven that squealed like a dying pig when opened and a sputtering gas stove, but everything worked perfectly fine for the two of them.

Two…

  “Fly me free of temptation

And the flames of Hell's devastation

Then He will take me

And wash me in the river

I will make celebration

In the joy of final 

The might of final 

The fire of final Salvation!”

There was Mama, singing along to the song playing from an old radio on the counter, her back to Joan. 

She was a moderately sized woman, but had a strong, corded neck and incredibly muscled hands from years of working at the local laundromat. Honey blonde hair framed her face, which was quite beautiful in a weird, overzealous religious way. Reaching brown roots slithered like snakes from her scalp, with only a few white hairs visible. Despite being in her forties, her complexion was more weathered by hardship and discipline than age. Piercing golden brown eyes flickered when she finally noticed her daughter standing there and a smile broke out on her pale pink lips.

  “Mama,” Joan said breathily, unable to bite back her giddy grin. 

  “Ah, Joan,” Mama said, “there’s my sweet girl.” And then she opened her strong arms out wide and Joan darted into them instantly, nestling into her embrace. Mama smelled like honey and laundry detergent. “You’re home early.”

Joan felt her lower stomach twinge and she leaned a little closer into Mama’s chest. She would keep her mouth shut about the incident at school for now. Mama was in a good mood; no need to go and mess that up.

  “School--ended sooner than usual.” Joan said, internally wincing. She hated lying, always fearing that she would be struck dead the moment the fib rolled off her tongue, but she would correct herself and tell the truth soon.

Mama hummed. “I see.” She pulled away and turned back to the counter, where she had been shaping bread dough with her wolf-like hands. “Dinner won’t be ready for awhile.”

  “That’s okay,” Joan said. “I can wait.”

Mama hummed again. Joan fidgeted anxiously behind her.

  “Is everything alright, my darling?” Mama asked, concern in her smooth voice.

  “Yes, Mama,” Joan answered. “Just-- umm-- may I go shower?”

Mama chuckled. “Of course, dear.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” Joan gave her another quick hug, then scurried up the creaky wooden stairs to her room.

Filthy. She suddenly felt so filthy. She had showered barely an hour ago, but grime seemed to be crawling all over her. Would Mama be safe from it? Was it bad that she touched her?

She tried to remember what Miss Aragon had told her. About this being…

  “Normal.” Miss Aragon said. “It’s perfectly normal, Joan. Every girl goes through it.”

Joan whimpered. The spattered mess between her legs had been wiped away by Miss Aragon, a humiliation she would never be able to live down, and she was now fully dressed again, but her clothes felt too tight, especially around her groin. It felt like there were eels alive and writhing inside of her. She squirmed on the grey couch she was seated on in Miss Aragon’s office, a place where most students were forbidden to go into.

  “My skin feels weird,” Joan whispered. “I-I’m hot…”

Miss Aragon frowned. Joan looked up at her with shiny, wet blue eyes and a glazed expression.

  “It hurts,” She croaked.

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  “What did I do?”

  “What?”

Joan shifted uncomfortably. Guilt surged through her, along with another painful sensation in her lower stomach. She whimpered again.

  “What did I do?” She asked again. “D-did I sin? Is this my punishment?” Miss Aragon looked baffled, and Joan wasn’t sure how she should feel about that. 

  “No, no, Joan,” Miss Aragon said quickly. “You didn’t--you didn’t sin.” She made a face, like those words tasted funny on her tongue, but it disappeared quickly. “You’re a very good girl. All women go through this, like I said. It’s completely normal.”

  “But--but I’m bleeding!” Joan cried woefully. She could feel drops of blood squeeze slickly out of her vagina and she cringed. “You shouldn’t-- it’s not-- I-I’m gonna bleed to death!”

Miss Aragon is frowning again, and Joan easily recognized it as a frown of pity. That’s the expression most adults wear when they look at her. 

  “You aren’t, Joan,” Miss Aragon said patiently. “It’ll stop in a few days.”

Joan squirmed again, wanting it to stop now. She looked up at Miss Aragon helplessly.

  “What did you do?” She asked. “To get yours? How did you sin?”

Miss Aragon sighed and Joan instinctively shrunk away. Instead of being struck, however, her coach eased an arm around her shaking shoulders and pulled her in close against her side.

  “Oh, Joan…” She murmured, stroking her wet hair. “You poor, poor girl…”

Miss Aragon had then gone on to explain the process of the strange word called ‘menstruation’, telling her how she would bleed for four to seven days at a time every month for basically the rest of her life. It sounded awful. How could God curse females with such a horrible bodily function?

The sharp ache in her lower stomach returned like a tug on her small intestines. She put her hand between her legs, but drew no blood (this time). A new feeling rose in Joan’s sore chest, a yearning, an ache. She felt suddenly cold, as if the sun could no longer warm her. This was it, then, the change was here.

Would she still be Joan after it was all over? When she shed the last of her “uterus lining”, as Miss Aragon had said, would she still be herself? Or would she be someone new?

Would being someone new be all that bad?

Joan swiped some looser, fresh clothes from her dresser and then scurried her way into the bathroom. She didn’t want to turn on the lights, so she lit a few candles instead, letting their warm glow fill the small space.

With muscles that were weak with fatigue, she slowly began to undress herself. First her overalls, then her white and baby blue flannel, her cream colored bra, and finally her underwear. The puffy sanitary napkin--a “pad”--that Miss Aragon had put in for her was spotted with large dark red, almost black stains that looked like gross bodily jelly. It was wilting already, so she carefully removed it and replaced it with one of the many others she had been given, remembering how Miss Aragon had told her to always change them whenever she got the chance or she may get sick.

After throwing away the pad she wadded up with toilet paper, Joan stepped into the bathtub and cranked the faucet handle.

Showering was agony.

Although the hot water had offered her a brief respite from the deep, otherworldly chill that had settled into her body, there was no escaping the pain. Each beating droplet against her limbs felt like a fresh wasp sting stabbing into her muscles and the flesh on her stomach, taut and uncomfortably bloated, pulsed and throbbed with agony every time she moved.

Like before a few minutes ago, like at school, she reached between her legs, and it came back sticky and red.

The smell of the blood was pungent and unnatural. It was nothing like real blood at all. It was more like the rot from her deteriorating insides as her sin caused her to rapidly decay. It made her feel sick, so she stuck her hand under the spray of liquid fire shooting out from the shower head and didn’t pull it back until all the blood was gone.

The smell remained on her hand.

Joan scrubbed vigorously between her legs, which seemed to be permanently stained. Crimson would smear across her pale flesh each time her vagina bled again and she did her best to wipe the trails away with an itchy sponge. By the time she finally gave up, her inner thighs felt chafed and raw.

Joan took to just watching the water and beads of soap run down the slightly rusted drain. Slowly, she sat down, knees bent up to her chest, legs spread slightly. Red drools down the floor of the shower to join the suds down into the pipes.

This reminded her of a time when she was eleven and was violently ill in the shower. She remembered looking up, slumped heavily over the rim of the tub, still in all her clothes, and seeing Mama in the doorway. She had been shaking her head, but had a morbidly amused glint in her eyes. Then, chuckling darkly, she was saying, “You shouldn’t have gotten--”

  “--drunk,” Said Joan, her fists clenched determinedly at her sides and her heart hammering in her throat.

The figure in the armchair in front of her turned to look at the doorway and squinted up at her for a moment as though trying to figure out who she was. And then it sagged back into the chair with an air of disappointment. Like it had been expecting someone else, someone better.

Joan stared back through the thick mop of white-blonde hair that had started to hang in her eyes lately because she’d been too lazy to cut it.

She was eleven and standing in the doorway of the house she’d grown up in, feet squared in her tattered shoes (she hadn’t gone and gotten herself a new pair in awhile, though she was long since overdue) and jaw set grimly.

  “...You're what?” Said the figure slowly, her weathered, thick-knuckled hands clutching a periwinkle embroidery and a shiny sewing needle.

  “I’m drunk, Mama,” Joan said again, feeling a thrill that was equal parts excitement and terror run through her from head to toe as she said the scandalous words. She watched those dark eyes apprehensively, dimly aware through the buzz of alcohol that she was shivering.

Later, on nights when she had nothing better to think about (there would be a lot of nights like that), she would dramatize this event in her head. She’d think about what might have happened if she’d been yelled at, or sent to her closet, or even slapped across the face and sent sprawling. It wasn't that she did this to feel sorry for herself, or to pretend that it had been worse than it actually was.

The truth was that all of those outcomes were things she wished had happened more than what actually had.

From the worn-out old armchair, the figure stared at her a moment longer, before simply shaking its head in silent apathy and looking back down at the embroidery.

  “This is why God has left you,” Said Jane Seymour, dismissively.

And then Joan had trudged off, disappointed by the lack of reaction. Usually her Mama would throw an absolute fit over the littlest things she did, but the night she drank alcohol was barren of any dramatics.

An hour later, she would violently heave up all the whiskey she ingested from her system in the shower. It burned more than it did on the way down and made her cry helplessly for her Mama, who knelt by the bathtub and stroked her hair like she was a dog while she threw up all over herself. Mama had cradled her head against her chest when she was finished, mouth and chin still dripping with vomit, and told her what an evil little imp she was in a voice like sweet caramel.

Joan shook her head, scattering droplets across the shower walls and curtain. She looked down and saw a small sea of blood rippling around her feet. Her nose curled in disgust and she backed up further against the back of the tub.

Minutes passed. Joan’s mind was fuzzy and blank for most of the time she sat in the water and her own blood. Her vagina began to hurt at one point and throbbed steadily with her beating heart. 

When it was eventually time to get out, she found that the heat of the water had soaked the energy right out of her, and it took everything in her to get dressed again instead of just curling up naked in a corner of the shower and passing out.

The cuts splattering her figure, those that hadn't scabbed over yet, were gooey and red, the flesh around their edges white and puckered from the water. They burned faintly as she stepped back out of the shower’s steamy shelter and into the cold air of the rest of the house.

The light from the candle flames cast her gaunt features in harsher contrast when she peered into the mirror. Her hollow cheeks nearly became empty holes and her sunken eye sockets were black caves. Still, the shiny blue of her eyes was visible even in the cavernous puncture. The fire’s glow reflected off the stygian liquid steel of rolling droplets over her emaciated frame. 

The sight of the deathlike girl would send anyone but Mama screaming into the night.

------

  “Good news, Kitty!” 

Anne came out of nowhere, flinging her arms around Katherine and causing her to jump. They staggered, nearly falling right over, but managed to stay upright in the crowd of students leaving the school. Katherine laughed.

  “What can it be this time, Annie?” She asked, shifting her backpack onto one shoulder after Anne pulled away.

  “It turns out we are going to college together after all!” Anne declared, smiling widely. “I just got the text last period!”

Katherine felt a surge of happiness go through her, but still couldn’t help but tilt her head. 

  “Wait-- I thought the Royal College of Music turned you down?”

Just saying the school’s name sent flutters of joy and excitement and awe through her. She still couldn’t believe that SHE, Katherine Howard, got accepted into THE BEST music school in England. Maybe even the entire world!! She couldn’t wait until she got to explore the castle-like campus and fulfill her dream of being a real performer, and although she had hoped that her dear cousin and best friend would be a part of that, she didn’t actually think it would have happened.

But here Anne was, shrugging nonchalantly with a radiant look in her dark brown eyes.

  “Yeah, well,” She waved a dismissive hand, “Daddy pulled a few strings and now I’m in.” 

Katherine couldn’t help but chuckle knowingly when her Uncle Thomas was brought up. She could only pray for the poor soul at the Royal College’s administration board that must have met the other end of his needle-sharp words.

  “We get to be roomies together!” Anne said. “Isn’t that great or what?”

  “It’s AMAZING!” Katherine declared, hugging Anne. “I can’t wait!”

The sound of a car broke their embrace and the two of them, along with a few other students in the courtyard, turned to look at the shiny dark blue Ford Mustang honking at the curb. The driver’s side door popped open a second later and a gorgeous young woman, probably twenty or twenty-one, with lush olive skin and curly brown hair came sliding out. She lowered her electric blue Burberry sunglasses and hickory brown eyes swept over the crowd of high school kids in disdainful amusement.

  “CATHY!!” Anne cried gleefully. She launched herself at Catherine Parr and the two immediately melted into a heated kiss. Katherine sputtered a laugh.

  “Classic Anne,” Maria said, coming up beside Katherine with Maggie and Bessie. “Always can’t wait to jam her tongue down her lady’s throat.” She’s elbowed in the ribs by both Katherine and Bessie for that, making her snicker. “What? It’s true!”

  “Come on,” Maggie said, and they all crossed over to the couple. “Alright, children! That’s enough PDA!”

Anne parted from her girlfriend to stick her tongue out at Maggie. Cathy chuckled and turned her gaze to the others.

  “Hello, kids,” She said languidly. 

  “Hey, Cathy,” Katherine smiled at her. The other three greeted the other woman as well. “How are you?”

  “Bitchin’ good,” Cathy rumbled, her lips twitching upwards. The lipstick coating them was a dark red color; Katherine believed it was called “Nibble” if she remembered correctly.

  “Okay, okay, okay,” Anne suddenly said. She perched on the hood of the Ford Mustang and spread her hands out in front of her like she was about to tell a grand fairytale. “Can you guys believe the stunt in the shower earlier?”

Like that, Katherine’s good mood dropped away and icy guilt slammed into her once again. It made her feel so stupid, as all her friends burst into giggles around her, enjoying the funny memory while she just felt sickened by them. Why couldn’t she be more like them?

  “What?” Cathy looked at all of them in confusion. “What happened?”

  “Oh, Joan Seymour happened,” Anne told her. “Sixteen fucking years old and that stupid retard just stood there having her very first period.”

Katherine winced at the use of the slur. Why did it suddenly hurt to hear? She hadn't cared when Maria said it earlier in the pool. Was she just now realizing that it was wrong to say?

  “I think she’s fifteen, actually,” She said.

  “Who cares?” Anne said. “Doesn’t change anything! I knew when I was 9!”

  “Wait--” Cathy said, and then she exclaimed, “Gross! In the shower?”

  “Oh yeah!” Anne nodded her head enthusiastically. “Blood was just dripping down her legs!”

  “All the blood ran into my stall!” Maggie joined in excitedly.

  “And she sat in it!” Bessie added.

  “All while squealing like a fucking pig!” Anne chortled. “WEE WEE WEE WEE!!!”

  “Anne, enough!!” Katherine shouted over all the laughter. “Stop it! It’s not funny!”

Anne looked at her and then said, “Hey, you guys! Stop! Stop! Kit is right. It’s not funny.”

All the giggling died away instantly. Katherine breathed out a sigh of relief--

  “It’s fucking hilarious!”

--that was quickly replaced with a sharp intake of breath.

Anne slung an arm around her shoulders. “Aww, sweetie!” She nuzzled her cheek with her nose. “There’s a runt in every litter! A nobody. And our nobody,” She chuckled darkly, “is Joan.”

------

The smell of freshly baked bread hit Joan’s nose when she walked down the stairs and her stomach growled so loud it caught Mama’s attention in the kitchen. Her face flashed dark red, her blush bright against the pale backdrop of her white-blonde hair, and Mama chuckled in amusement.

  “Someone’s hungry,” Mama said.

  “J-just a little…” Joan stammered shyly.

She really, really was, though. She skipped lunch because she had left school and hadn’t eaten since breakfast, which had just been two pieces of plain toast, but she felt like she was starving. Like it’s been a lot longer since she ate anything. She set her hands on her lower belly and wondered if hunger was another bitter side effect of menstruation.

  “Joan?” Mama noticed the way she was holding her stomach. “Is your tummy alright, darling?”

Joan felt an intense flash of fear 

(she knows she knows she knows she knows she knows she knows)

lance through her and she inhaled sharply. She nodded, dropping her hands limply to her side.

  “I’m okay, Mama,” She said. “Just hungry.”

  “Dinner will be ready soon,” Mama told her. Joan could smell the casserole in the oven and her stomach growled again. “Why don’t you go wash your hands and set the table?”

Joan nodded and hurried to wash her hands off in the kitchen sink before retrieving the plates and utensils from various cabinets. She took them to the dining room, a dimly lit room filled with more crosses than anywhere in the entire house. A huge iron one hung above the table, where Jesus’ petrified face of agony could always leer down at her when she was trying to eat. The only other decoration was a wooden picture frame laying face-down on a small shelf. Joan glanced at it and remembered the last time it had been filled by...

...a photograph of Mama’s wedding.

It had been a bright and sunny day, with white clouds floating over the wedding ceremony. In the picture, the newlyweds were standing on the top of the stone stairs leading to the chapel. Above their heads was a tall arch decorated with beautiful white roses, handpicked by the maid of honor. The bride and groom held each other’s hands, the picture of matrimonial bliss. 

This was the first time Joan actually saw what Daddy Henry looked like. Mama didn’t talk about him very much, and when she did, it wasn’t ever in a good way.

But these two in the picture looked so happy.

Daddy Henry’s wedding tuxedo had to be one of the largest ever designed. He was herculean, with a behemoth body and golden blonde hair. Dazzling sapphire blue eyes stood out brightly in the photo, so much like Joan’s own. He had a massively wide smile on his bearded face, grasping his bride’s hands in his own huge ones. 

Mama was in a beautiful white gown gown that hugged her every curve, with sterling silver feathers sewn into the sleeves and into the frills of the wedding dress. Her lips were painted ruby red and were curled up into a blissful smile as she leaned into the wall of muscle that was her husband, her hands lost within Daddy Henry’s colossal grip.

...Were these really her parents?

Joan had found the photo hidden behind one of Jesus’s birth when she accidentally broke the frame while playing. She was ten at the time, and itching for mischief, so she hid the photo from Mama, despite all the questions she wanted to ask. 

It had been a complete accident that Mama found out she had it, when she saw it in her room after she forgot to put it away.

For a long time, Mama didn’t speak after she found the photo. She just gripped it tightly and stared at it with wide, bulging eyes.

  “Where did you find this?” 

Joan flinched at the edge in her voice. Trembling, she stuttered, “I-I broke a picture frame a little while ago. You didn’t notice, so I picked up the broken glass so that we wouldn’t get hurt. I found it behind the picture of baby Jesus.”

Mama took several deep breaths that did little to calm her. Joan swallowed thickly.

  “M-maybe it could help us look for him?” She said timidly.

Turning abruptly, Mama stormed out the bedroom and downstairs. Joan ram after her, crying, “Wait! Mama!”

Mama strode into the lounge and began roughly throwing firewood into the fireplace. Joan skidded to a stop behind her, her eyes wide.

  “Mama!” She shouted. “Stop! We have to find Daddy!”

But Mama didn’t stop. She just kept tossing in wood until the fireplace was full, then moved to dousing the logs with an alarming amount of lighter fluid. Joan lunged forward and grabbed her arm as she lit a match and flicked it in. The flames roar to life instantly, illuminating the cold look in Mama’s golden eyes.

  “No.” She hissed, and then threw the photo into the fire.

  “NO!!!” Joan screeched.

She threw herself at the fireplace, dropping to her knees and shoving her hands into the burning logs. Flames licked at her skin and she howled in pain, but didn’t pull back until she grabbed the smoldering remains of the photograph. It disintegrated in her fingers and she wailed in anguish right before Mama grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her backwards.

  “What are you doing?!” Mama cried. Her eyes are even wider now, and Joan saw that she was scared. The smell of burned flesh hung heavily in the air.

  “That was going to help us find Daddy!” Joan yelled, tears running down her cheeks. Her hands hurt so badly. Pink and scarlet criss crossed together over her charred skin. “We were gonna find him and he was gonna come back!!”

  “No he wasn’t, Johanna!”

  “WHY?!”

  “BECAUSE THERE IS NOTHING KEEPING HIM AWAY!!”

In an instant, the scalding hot blood in Joan’s veins turned to ice-water. She started to comprehend the implication of Mama’s words, and the tears came out from her eyes faster and faster. She wilted like a daffodil, crossing her burnt hands in front of her chest and grabbing her arms, squeezing them tightly as she bowed her head and doubled over on her knees. The crown of her skull cracked against the hardwood, sprawling her hair like a waterfall of white-gold all over the floor. 

  “No… No… No...” She wept again and again.

  “He doesn’t want you, Joan,” Mama said ruefully. “He didn’t even want me.” She took a deep breath, sadness etched in the grooves of her words. “He doesn’t want either of us.”

Mama knelt and took Joan into her arms, rocking her slowly. Joan tried to grip onto her, but just let out a pained wail when she moved her hands.

  “Mama!” She cried. “Mama, it hurts! It hurts!”

  “Oh, my poor baby,” Mama said sadly. “Shh… It’s going to be okay, my darling angel. It’s going to be okay, Joan…”

  “...Joan? Joan?”

Joan jolted, backpedaling into her mother, who looked concerned. Mama gently cupped her cheeks.

  “My dear angel,” She murmured, “what’s wrong?”

(tell her tell her tell her)

Joan swallowed thickly. “S-something happened at school today. Something terrible...”

Mama frowned and brushed a loose strand of hair out of Joan’s face. “Terrible things are the Lord’s way of testing us, Joan.” She said wisely.

  “I know, Mama, but the other girls--”

  “You aren’t like the other girls.” Mama cut her off.

  “But I am, Mama! I am!” Joan said. “I never thought so, but--”

  “You aren’t, Joan. You aren’t. You’re special.” Mama’s lips twitched slightly. “Special.”

  “You aren’t listening to me, Mama…”

  “I’ve heard all I wanted to hear, now finish setting the table, please.” Mama said. She glided past Joan and went back into the kitchen to check on the casserole. Joan slowly laid out the plates, then looked over her shoulder.

(tell her tell her tell her)

  “Mama, in the showers today…”

Mama whipped around instantly, her eyes suddenly lit up like hot coals. Joan thought she might have seen a flicker of fear somewhere in there, too.

  “What have I told you about showering with the other girls?” Mama said.

  “I know, but--” Joan floundered.

  “What have I told you?” Mama shouted.

  “It’s a sin! It’s a sin!” Joan gave in.

  “And as such--”

  “But Mama--”

  “It is--”

  “I STARTED TO BLEED!!”

Silence.

Stillness.

The platter Mama had been holding slipped from her fingers and shattered against the wooden floor. White and blue pieces exploded out in every direction. A few chunks cut Mama’s slipper-clad feet and ankles, and blood slowly began to bud out like blooming roses in May, but Mama did not move. Or flinch. Or even blink. She just stared very intently at Joan like she was hoping she would burst into flames if she leered hard enough.

And then, her face did something strange. It twitched, like all her expressions were falling off one by one, so it looked like a mask for a moment. Then, the skin rippled and creased and wrinkled, and her soft features were eroded away by furious and sinister ones. A sick white light ignited behind her golden brown eyes, like twin lightning bugs of insanity inside the sockets. Joan backed up against the dining room table with a whimper.

  “Mama, I started to bleed in the showers and the other girls-- they laughed at me and called me names and threw things at me!” She said woefully. “I was so scared, Mama! I thought I was dying!”

Mama’s face twitched again, and this time her head jerked a little with it. The veins in her neck bulge out of the flesh and pulsed monstrously. Her eyes suddenly looked a lot less golden brown and a lot more brown-red.

  “Mama, why are you looking at me like that?” Joan asked softly, quaking.

  “The curse of blood,” Mama said quietly. There’s an awful, dry chuckle edging her words. Joan blinked like an oblivious pure white heifer about to be sacrificed to God.

  “Mama, you’re scaring me…”

Mama’s entire head twitched this time and then, a split second later, she’s striding across the kitchen with her right hand held high. Joan didn’t have any time to react before she was backhanded across the jaw by pointy, spike-like knuckles. She yelped out in pain and shock, tottering sideways and careening right into one of the dining table chairs. Her body unceremoniously crumpled into it, and she and the chair both crashed to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

  “You’re a woman now,” Mama said above her. Her eyes are wide and gleaming, but there’s no emotion in them. “Pray to heaven for your wicked soul.”

  “Wh-what did I do?” Joan stammered, rolling over onto her back. She could already feel her jaw welling up with a fresh bruise. “M-Miss Aragon said it’s something all girls go through. Even y--”

Mama hit Joan again, and blood splattered out in a bright red line across the floor. Joan whimpered sharply, tears of pain springing to her eyes. Her tongue instinctively flicked out against her newly busted lip and it stung in response to being licked.

  “And God made Eve from the rib of Adam,” Mama said like she was in a trance. “And Eve was weak and loosed the raven on the world. And the raven was called Sin and the first Sin was the Sin of Intercourse. So the Lord visited Eve with a Curse and the Curse was the Curse of Blood.” She leaned down to Joan and her words were suddenly washed with potent venom, “Say it, woman.”

  “No, Mama--”

Joan was struck a third time. Smears of her blood are left on Mama’s knuckles.

  “Say it!” Mama bellowed.

  “No!” Joan cried. She turned sharply and scrambled away, but Mama pursued her and delivered a kick to her ribs that sent her sprawling on her back.

  “And Adam and Eve were driven out of the Garden and into the World and Eve found that her belly had grown big with child.” Mama droned on. She lifted her foot and pressed it down on Joan’s stomach, pinning her to the ground. Joan yowled in pain when a cramp seized her at that very moment, deepening her anguish even further. “And there was a second Curse, and this was the Curse of Childbearing, and Eve brought forth Cain in sweat and blood.”

  “Mama!” Joan sobbed. The tears were flowing free without resistance, now, and creating small pools on either side of her head. “Mama! Stop it, please! Listen to me!!”

But Mama did not listen. She just leaned down, applying more pressure to Joan’s poor belly, like she was hoping to make all the blood come out now. Joan threw her head back and screamed in pain.

  “And following Cain, Eve gave birth to Abel, having not yet repented of the Sin of Intercourse. And so the Lord visited Eve with a third Curse, and this was the Curse of Murder. Cain rose up and slew Abel with a rock. And still, Eve did not repent, nor all the daughters of Eve, and upon eve did the Crafty Serpent found a kingdom of whoredoms and pestilence.”

  “Mama, listen!!” Joan yelled. “Stop! It wasn’t my fault!”

  “And Eve was weak,” Mama said flatly. “Say it.”

  “N-o!” Joan squirmed underneath her mother. Her hands, rough and scarred permanently from the burns she got five years ago, flew up and grabbed Mama’s leg. Two of her fingernails jabbed into one of the cuts on Mama’s ankle she got from the glass and Mama jerked away with a hiss.

  “You vile demon!!” She screeched.

Joan fled as quickly as she could, but Mama went after her, just like last time. Just like all the other times. 

(if i had a nickle for every time she made me cry in here...)

Her wrists are seized and they both fall to their knees on the floor in the lounge. The impact rattled Joan’s frail body and she could feel more blood drip out onto the sanitary napkin in her underwear.

  “Mama, let me go!!” Joan cried frantically. She struggled, but her Mama was much stronger than she was and was able to restrain her. Mama’s body hunched over her, her belly pressed against her rigid spine, practically crushing her frail daughter. “Please! Please, Mama! I’m sorry!!”

  “Say it, woman,” Mama whispered harshly in her ear, her words biting like serpents.

Joan sniffled and, with words that were thick with blood from her busted lip, choked out shamefully, “And Eve was weak.”

The grip on her wrists loosened slightly. Mama’s hot breath tickled her ear when she breathed out a dark laugh. A sloppy, halfhearted kiss was pressed to her temple.

  “Good girl,” Mama whispered breathily. She leaned back and twisted Joan around so they would be facing each other, but did not release her child from her ironclad grip. 

  “Mama, why didn’t you tell me?” Joan asked. Her icy blue eyes are filled with tears and sorrow, so much sorrow. “I was so scared, Mama. I thought I was dying!”

Mama shook her head and looked up ruefully. She squeezed Joan’s hands together and exclaimed hugely, “O Lord! Help this sinning woman beside me here see the sin of her days and ways!”

  “Stop it, Mama--” Joan squirmed uncomfortably.

  “Show her that if she had remained sinless the Curse of Blood never would have come on her!” Mama brayed on.

  “Mama--” Joan whined. “Mama, please stop! I don’t understand! What did I do?” She squirmed harder. “Mama, let me go!!”

Mama shook Joan violently, then drew her in close, eyes flashing. 

  “Ask for forgiveness of your sin.”

  “No, Mama.” Joan said, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t sin, you sinned. You didn’t tell me and they laughed.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Darkness overtook Mama’s features like the black clouds of a thunderstorm. Her face twisted with disgust, and she suddenly looked like she hated her child with every inch of her being. She dug her fingernails deep into Joan’s brittle wrists.

  “I did not.” She hissed lowly. “I did not--sin.” She carved off chunks of Joan’s flesh with her nails. “Go to your closet and pray.”

Joan stiffened, her eyes bulging hugely in her skull. She whimpered and shook her head, shrinking down into herself.

  “No, Mama,” She whispered fearfully. She could see her prayer closet from the lounge, the door fitted underneath the staircase. It was cramped and dark and hot in there, just how Mama liked it for her. “D-don’t wanna go…” She couldn’t look away from it.

  “Pray.” Mama said. “Ask for forgiveness.”

  “Please, Mama,” Joan begged, looking up at her mother desperately. “P-please don’t make me go. I-I don’t wanna go. I’m sorry!”

But Mama’s uncaring look of hatred did not change, and inky black dread poured out through Joan’s organs like a thick, dark oil spill. Her breathing began to hitch and pick up, but Mama didn’t seem to care about her worsening panic attack.

  “Please, Mama,” Joan wheedled hoarsely. “I-- I’ll bring the Stones again!”

This time, it was Mama’s turn to look scared. But then it morphed into intense enmity and she began to beat Joan senselessly towards the closet.

  “You monster!” She howled. “You spawn of the devil! Why must I be so cursed?!”

  “The Stones!” Joan yelled as she was kicked and hit and slapped. She rolled to the side, but Mama beat her back down to the floor, slowly getting her closer and closer to the wretched, evil closet. “I’ll bring the Stones, Mama! I’ll bring the Fire!” 

And then a powerful kick drove into her belly and her words pitched into a shriek of agony. 

  “MAMA!!” Joan screamed. “MAMA-- MAMA, STOP!! IT HURTS!! Y-YOU-- IT HURTS!!!”

Mama grappled onto Joan’s arms and began dragging her across the floor to the closet. Even with the sharp, unbearable pain in her stomach, Joan fought her, kicking and struggling and screaming bloody murder, but it was futile. Mama shoved Joan into the prayer closet and slammed the door shut, locking it tightly.

   “NO!!” Joan shrieked. She threw herself at the door, causing it to rattle heavily on its hinges. “Mama, let me go!!”

  “Pray, little girl!” Mama ordered. Madness curled from her lips like poisonous vipers. “Pray!”

  “Please, Mama!!” 

But Mama did not let her go. Her footsteps retreated somewhere into the house and Joan sunk to the floor, weeping. Panic started sticking to her lungs like black tar, making it harder and harder to breathe. 

Mama was so angry… What if she never let her out? 

Dread sped up her thoughts, racing through her veins, filling her with desperation. 

No one would even hear her screams, her last dying words, her final prayers…

She began to wheeze, the thick, musty air brushing against her lips. The oppressive stench of her own fear and blood and piss from other times in the closet burned her nose.

Would the neighbors notice? Would they even care? 

Pain lighted in her belly again as her chest contracted with her heavy breaths. 

Would her teachers, so quick to look away from her black eyes and limping figure, even call and ask where she was?

Joan began to scratch on the door, the frame, the hinges, scrambling to escape, her instincts pitching her action into a fury of movement. 

What would they say when her body was finally discovered, a rotting corpse hidden in the darkness of a closet made for holy purposes? Perhaps she would be the talk of the town, even more than usual. The poor Seymour kid, whose Mama went mad after her husband left and God could no longer satisfy her. Who killed her only child, slowly starving her tiny daughter to death one evening while she sewed a new blouse for a customer at the laundromat and listened to her religious music.

Joan’s fingernails scratched harder, grazing the wooden confines of her holy coffin. She could feel the warmth of her blood as the nails began to tear and break, smell the copper of her panic, leaving thin lines of crimson as she clawed frantically.

What if she didn’t starve to death? What if she suffocated? Could that happen? No, she’d read about that before. There was enough air filtering in here, probably. She’d die of dehydration first. Already she could feel her throat constrict, dry and callous, an arid lining of flesh. Spots of light pricked her vision. Tears ran down the side of her bruised face, mingling with the sweat now coating her skin. She felt clammy and cold, yet suddenly too hot, as if in a fever.

  “Mama, let me out!” She begged coarsely, the words scratching at her throat.

She could take the hitting or yelling or cursing. Anything but this. 

  “Mama…” 

Joan slumped to her side, shuddering. She looked up and gazed around at the horrors that littered the closet. There were so many paintings of Jesus’s death, all in great, graphic detail. When she was little, they used to give her awful nightmares about evil men nailing her to a cross or Jesus’s bloodied body chasing her through a ruined dreamscape, welding a wicked-looking crucifix made of barbed wires and yelling at her to join him on his cadaverous crucible.

They still gave her nightmares, she hated to admit.

The dead eyes of Christ bore down on Joan’s pathetic, shaking frame. Jesus’s face was contorted into the same expression of disgust and pain as Mama’s had been, like even he knew that she was the worst thing to ever grace God’s green earth. She curled into a tight ball on the floor, not wanting to meet his scornful gaze anymore, and began to pray through her haze of tears.

------

Moonlight cast silver streams on Anna’s smooth, glowing skin, making her look like a goddess of the night above Katherine. Her soft touch sent pangs of pleasure crackling through Katherine’s body like lightning bolts of lust, soothing her mind of all its worries with her warmth. Everything felt good and okay and wonderful again when Anna was with her, holding her, talking to her, loving her. She thought that nothing could possibly bring her down when her girlfriend was there by her side.

And yet, she still couldn’t get the image of Joan Seymour’s naked body covered in blood on the floor out of her head.

Katherine sighed heavily and Anna pulled back, blinking.

  “Am I really that bad?” She said, then looked at her fingernails, inspecting them closely. “I thought I got them down to the perfect length this time…”

Katherine managed to laugh. “No, it’s not you, you big silly,” She nudged her playfully. “It’s--something else…”

Anna tilted her head. “What is it?” Worry flashed across her expression and Katherine couldn’t help but feel a flutter of love flap in her chest. She loved when her girlfriend got like this, all concerned over her, even over the littlest things. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” Katherine said. She pushed herself up into a sitting position with a sigh. “It’s just-- I did something...not good today.”

  “Oh no,” Anna gasped. “Not good?”

Katherine shoved her. “I’m serious!”

Anna laughed slightly. “I know! I know!” She said. “Come on, tell me about it.”

They got dressed and stepped out of Anna’s red Jeep so Katherine could get some fresh air that would hopefully help her tell the shameful story. It was a warm spring night and they were parked on the side of a small grove that had a trail that led to a hiking trail and some camping grounds. Katherine ducked under a tree that was wrapped in blooming vines of pink-white dog roses, pale ghost petals shivering in the breeze. Anna came up beside her and they both sat on a low-hanging branch that was practically grown for the purpose of sitting and telling your girlfriend about the awful bullying you participated in today.

  “Did you...hear about the Joan Seymour incident today?” Katherine eventually choked out hesitantly.

Anna actually thought for a moment, as if a fifteen year old girl getting her first period and thinking she was dying hadn’t been the talk of the entire school.

  “Vaguely, yeah,” She finally said. “I don’t get into that kind of drama, though. I tend to stay away from it, you know?”

Katherine did know, and that sent fear ricocheting through her body when she remembered it. Of course Anna didn’t like discourse- she’s told her several times before! How could she be so stupid?

Anna peered at her closely, and she knew it was too late to turn back now.

  “What does Joan Seymour and her period have to do with you?” Anna asked her.

Katherine swallowed thickly. Fear pounded heavily at her brain, fear of Anna breaking up with her when she told her and leaving her all alone--but didn’t she deserve that? What she did was horrible. She didn’t deserve a girlfriend after harassing a poor little girl, ESPECIALLY when she herself was eighteen and technically an adult.

  “I--” Her words caught in her throat for a moment, but Anna’s patient, loving gaze made them all come tumbling out. “I was in there. With her. In the locker room.” She lowered her head in shame. “I--yelled at her with everyone…”

Anna just looked at her for a long time, moonlight glinting in her caramel brown eyes and making them look like they were glowing. Then, she sucked in an impressed breath and said, “You’re right. Not good.”

Katherine felt a cold slicing of fear slash through her, but then Anna’s grave expression shifted into a thoughtful smile. She ran a hand down an ivy-coiled section of the tree and mused, “I kicked a kid in the ribs one time.”

Katherine blinked at her. 

  “I did!” Anna said, then shook her head and chuckled at the memory. “Reed Mulligan. Big white kid who’ll probably grow up to be a robber or something. Anyway, he beat the shit out of me once in Year 7. And then, in Year 8, he picked on the wrong kid and got his ass handed to him. Everyone ran when he dropped to the ground, but first I gave him a good kick in the ribs. Felt terrible about it afterward.” She peered at Katherine closely. “Are you gonna apologize to her?”

Katherine snorted dryly. “Did you apologize to Reed Mulligan?”

  “Hell no!” Anna said. “But there’s a big difference, Kat.”

  “There is?”

  “This isn’t Secondary School anymore.” Anna said. A flurry of snowy pink petals swirled down from the tree and over their shoulders. “What did Joan Seymour ever do to you?”

------

The prayer closet lock clicked and the door creaked open after seven long hours. Joan stopped crying for her Mama after the first hour and fell silent for the rest, not even asking to eat or go to the bathroom. Probably because she was asleep, curled up into a little ball on the floor, pillowing her head with her arms. Mama knelt down to her, setting one hand on her shoulder and raking the other through her white-blonde hair. Joan’s eyes shot open instantly, and they seemed to glow in brilliant shades of blue in the candlelight.

  “Did you finish your prayers, little girl?” Mama asked.

Joan nodded.

  “That’s my good girl,” Mama cooed. She kissed Joan’s cheek, saying nothing about the dark indigo bruise bloomed on her jaw. “It’s time for bed.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Joan whispered. Slowly, she uncoiled from her position on the floor, shaking out her numb limbs as she did so. Mama watched her with a sharp eye as she rose to her feet.

  “Joan?”

  “Yes, Mama?”

Mama took a deep breath and stood up, practically towering over her little daughter.

  “I know I sometimes do things that I can’t explain,” She said, “but know that my feelings for you never change. Even--if you have sinned.”

Joan winced, but she shook her head and managed to smile wryly up at her mother. 

  “Mama, you don’t have to say that,” She said. “You love me. You don’t need to ask for forgiveness from me. I know you do what you have to.”

  “Yes,” Mama said slowly, nodding. “We have no one except each other, Joan.”

Joan shivered. Her heart ached fiercely in her chest, and she so badly wanted to believe that that wasn’t true, that there was someone out there who wanted her, but she knew that was just wishful thinking. Fifteen years, and the only person who didn’t throw her away was her Mama.

  “I’m the only one who cares about you.” Mama said. “No one will ever love you except me.” She cupped Joan’s cheeks and looked at her with maddening adoration and love flickering in her eyes. “You will always be a monster to everyone else.”

And Joan nodded, knowing this would always be true, and whispered, “Yes, Mama.”

#carrie au #six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical au #uk tour six #katherine howard #tour katherine howard #anne boleyn #tour anne boleyn #jane seymour #tour jane seymour #catherine parr #tour catherine parr #tour joan on the keys #joan on the keys #anna of cleves #tour anna of cleves #tour maria on the drums #tour maggie on the guitar #tour bessie on the bass #the crucible #tw: child abuse #tw: abuse #tw: r slur #tw: manipulation #tw: blood #tw: bullying

[just-like-playing-tag]

Isabella

Asked by Anonymous. Thank you very much for the ask!!!

Favorite thing about her: She's one of the greatest villains I've ever heard of! She fulfills her role as Emma's nemesis magnificently. I really like how she made her own choices, even if they were selfish ones. We cannot all be Emmas. It's in the human nature the instinct to survive, and I don't blame her for that. It makes it also kind of sweet how she wants to survive for Leslie too- kinda mirrors how, after believing he had died, Emma and Ray wanted to survive for Norman as well. Isabella is determined in being the one who survives in the end, and I think that makes her really cool.

Least favorite thing about her: Eh it has to be how she treated Ray. Now, hear me out:

you know there's this kid who knows that him and his siblings are being raised in a farm. He knows none of them will survive their 12th birthday. He has to see the siblings he obviously loved (because that's what kids do, they love their siblings, no matter how much Ray tried not to get attached) being shipped once every two months. He had to go through all of this, while acting like everything was fine.

And you think "oh yeah why don't we treat him like a fucking animal that's obviously the right thing to do". Just. Girl what's your problem??????? His life was a nightmare, why did you had to make it even worse??????? She called him "dog". She made him hate himself more then the already did. She made it so that he'd never forget that his byological mother hated him. Really,,,, why. Why didn't that boy deserved the "happy life" you promised to give every child you rised. Why did you chose to fuck him up more that he already was.

Even worse, the thing is,,,, I know the reason she did it. It's because she knew Ray was her son, and she didn't want to get attached in any way. It's because him himself was born out of the system that had tortured her in every way. Because that too was probably the manifestation of a deep self loathing for all she had done and she kept doing. But still- woman, you're an adult. And he was a freaking five years old. All you had to do is not to add more trauma.

Uhm also I didn't really like how her redemption arc was handled- but for completely different reasons than the rest of the fandom. What bothers me is how easily they forgave her. I think it's easy to understand her actions when, as the reader, you know plenty about her pov; but I don't think a bunch of kids would forgive her that soon. I don't think they would consider her mom their (but I'm getting to that later). Sometimes the fact that you were forced to do some horrible things doesn't change the fact that you've done them- at least to the eyes of your victims.

Especially Ray. I love him but I really don't think he wouldn't have forgiven her. He'd been upset and thorned of course, but I don't think he would cry over his mother's body– why would he, all of his life she had never been one to him.

Favorite line:

Ok maybe this:

I love this scene, it may be my favorite of hers? I already mentioned it in the past, but I really like how after having lost, she actually makes an effort to protect the children. Even though it's a small step, and even though it's too late, she finally does something to love them as she wanted to. It may be a stretch, but even if that's not how thiss scene is supposed to be read... I still find her resolution amazing. Look at her, so stern and unshakable, like she was made of stone. I love and admire people who take responsibilities into their hands, that's how I aim to be.

But I also really like this. Her tired face. Her admitting her defeat. I don't know, there's just something really beautiful in how this panel was composed.

And this is nice as well, isn't it? All of the above (and under) still stand, but I like how at some point she gave up, and genuinely wished the best for the children. "Lights" metaphors are extremely cliché, but that doesn't make the any less sweet.

brOTP: I really don't know where this came out from but I think in a modern AU Isabella and Yuugo would bond really well just. I don't know. Ruthless bitches with actually a soft heart squad.

Another squad I love:

OTP: Ok totally not in canon, but Isabella / Krone sounds so so nice, I really love them.

nOTP: Bah nothing really.

Random headcanon: Through all the years she has been a mama, she has never ever cried. She's really not one to shed tears.

She really likes reading. She has read all the books of the orphanage as well, even though it took her longer then Ray (she read most of them only after she became mama)

Unpopular opinion: Ok everyone is going to hate me for this but. She has never been a mother to the children. Never. She was kind and nurturing towards them, of course! But honestly it's my opinion that a mother would always chose death over hurting her children. And like, I don't blame her at all for not doing so?? It's totally fine if she chose her life over the ones of countless children; some people think about themselves first, and I respect them for that. The survival instinct instinct is part of all humans, and that's ok. But what I mean is, stop acting as she loved her children as much as a mother would, because she didn't? It's a big part of her character - and it's also part of what makes her an amazing villain. What she was aiming for has always been surviving herself - for Leslie and all that stuff. You can't take off such a big part of this from her. She was determined to do everything to do that, even the most ruthless, bottle of things. She hurt children- but not her children. Those children were never hers, because she never loved them as a mother would.

(I'm obviously talking about mother as a motherly figure, and not as mother by blod– I understand perfectly not all byological mothers would be willing to die for their children, but in that case I just don't consider them mothers to them.)

Song i associate with her: OK LOOK THERE'S THIS ONE LES MISÉRABLES SONG THAT IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT EVERY SINGLE WORD SOUNDS LIKE IT'S BEEN WRITTEN FOR ISABELLA PLEASE GIVE IT A LISTEN

I Dreamed a Dream (performed by Caissie Levy) - Les Misérables

(Yes she's talking about Leslie) (Yes it's "He slept a summer by my side" because that's how time flee for her and "He took my childhood in his stride" because her childhood died with him) (Yes I'm crying)

I dreamed a dream in time gone by

When hope was high

And life worth living

I dreamed that love would never die

I dreamed that God would be forgiving

[...]

But the tigers come at night,

With their voices soft as thunder,

As they tear your hope apart,

As they turn your dream to shame!

Also, Miss Honey's bridge in When I Grow Up - Matilda makes me think about a younger mama Isabella:

When I grow up

I will be brave enough to fight the creatures

That you have to fight beneath the bed

Each night to be a grown up

Favorite picture of her:

I like this... She makes it look like after decades of fake smiles, this is her first, true, heartfelt smile.

Sorry I'm very incisive tonight

And this!!!!!!!! The coldness, the power, the sheer determination!!!!!!!!!!!

Also love her unreadable face in this; she's so cool!!!!!!!!

Send me a character and I’ll list

#Thank you Anon for asking- and for your patience! #tpn isabella #tpn #the promised neverland #tpn manga spoilers #mine #My followers count after this: 📉 #Oh well sorry I'm just really not one to keep my opinions for myself once prompted #It's ok to discuss this tho! I'm always open to new opinions / change my mind