#[ see guys i’m cursed with liking background characters I’m so doomed ]
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lesbianturrets · 1 year ago
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Mr. Mosley doodles because I AM THE NUMÉRO UNE FAN OF HEEM 🫶😙
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One of my head canons is that he’s just like a mole and just digs underground whenever he wants and sometimes gets lost in London and Jekyll needs to go retrieve him
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greyias · 3 years ago
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You ever spend so long writing/expanding on an extremely minor and undeveloped background character you become intensely attached to them? To the point where you try and find ways to recreate them in-game?
Thus is my fate, to fall too hard for this extremely fanon/headcanoned version of Theron’s poor, doomed astromech from Lost Suns, who has sort of graduated into his sidekick in this AU fic I’ve been working on forever-and-a-day. So much so, I’ve gone and tracked down the closest customization for T7 in-game to my little dome-headed pal.
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Lookit that chrome dome good boy.
I’m not sure at what point I started to fall for my little fanonized version of this obscure and forgotten astromech, but it was somewhere between him fandroiding over T7′s cult status within the SIS droid circle, and this beautiful exchange:
It also gave Theron a moment to contact M-6 to have the astromech meet them at engineering. Sliding a glance at his two, for lack of a better word, companions filling the corridor with quiet chatter, he decided to send the message to M-6 over a text relay within his implants.
The data packet came back in seconds, and the droid beeped in his ears. Curious, he replied with a query, receiving a very simple response. It was a crude pictographic data packet, but he understood the droid’s meaning.
He thought about sending back a warning to the little astromech that he should watch his language in any official medium that might be reviewed later by the analytics department -- but that'd probably be hypocritical. Plus, Theron had no doubt who would get the blame for corrupting the circuits of innocent little astromech droids if the Director of the SIS ever heard a droid cursing in binary.
Does canon!M-6 flip Theron the bird via emoji like my widdle fic!M-6 does? EH. Probably not. He seems to be more of a worry wart, and a storytelling device so Theron has someone to monologue to and infodump on before he gathers the rest of the cast as companions. Poor little faithful guy, he’s just happy to let Theron babble on endlessly about software upgrades and implants, wake up in the middle of the night to haul animal carcasses away that he tried to warn Theron about, and also haul most of the pieces of his giant spy ray around everywhere.
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Sadly, he only lasts three of the five comics before he’s unceremoniously dissected off-screen by Imperials. RIP M-6, best little spy droid buddy. You live on in my heart. And apparently this fic if it ever sees the light of day.
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chibivesicle · 4 years ago
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Golden Kamuy - Kikuta deserved better - 273-276
As I catch up on things, I’m gonna hit the highlights that really stuck with me.  Ogata is able to escape from Vasily using the tactics he observed from the showdown in Barato with Hijikata cutting through random row houses.  He’s seriously gotten into Vasily’s head as he hesitated to snipe aggressively after killing the wrong guy with Ogata’s cloak.
The only worthwhile thing from this continued and seriously a no longer interesting plot point, is getting to see Ogata wiggle under a fence like a cat.
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So, I approve of this at least.  My own cat scores this as an 8/10 in cat wiggling.  Minus 2 points for not enough emotion from Ogata’s face.
Thankfully, Asirpa was able to escape with Sofia after Tsukishima gunned down Ariko.  It seemed to me that Koito froze/hesitated during that situation.  Tsukishima had no problem brutally shooting Ariko at point blank while Koito literally just hung back and watched. 
Asirpa is in a state of extreme shock. She just interrogated by Tsurumi to give up the code, watched Ariko be shot and now sees Boutarou’s corpse in the bottle-mobile.  Our girl needs years of therapy - she’s reaching the same level as our male cast members at this rate.
At least she breaks down in tears as Sugimoto tries to console her.  The artwork for this part of the page is excellent, it really does capture the melting of her mind and how she’s realizing how deadly the gold is.
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It ties directly back to her argument with Kikuta before all this shit went down.  I’m always giving Sugimoto crap for being a moron, but it seems that he did make the right action by reaching out to allow her to hug his arm.  There is that soft look as he gazes down at her and just lets her be emotional.  It is clear that his presence is a comfort to her as she takes her time before returning to a more lucid mental state.  This is shown by how she opens her eyes and looks up before declaring that they need to meet up with Hijikata since she’s figured out how to crack the code.
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Meanwhile, Kikuta rushed Ariko to a clinic to save his life.  Being the father figure/older brother he is, he tells him that it isn’t his time to die; he never made that makiri yet! And to my relief, Ariko wakes up!  Noda didn’t go for the lazy writing of killing of the minor Ainu character, something I was afraid of.
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If his father saved him, it means his makiri was where he was shot in the chest under his uniform.  There is a lovely transition about a makiri in a fictional museum that was made by him, implying that he returned home and did make the makiri and likely resolved some of his identity issues, though it was still likely a tough life for him.  Ariko apologies for not being able to work as a spy for Central and really it isn’t like he’d be able to do so anyways.  But he did verbally point out he’s now politically on the side of someone like Asirpa to fight for their culture and right to exist in spite of colonial powers. The middle panel of Kikuta bidding him farewell just gives me the feels.  It is so clear that Kikuta knows he’s toast.  He saw Tsukishima shoot Ariko and Tsukishima likely watched him as he tried to save the man.
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The fact that he said a casual line about going to an onsen.  Ugh, death flag for sure right there.  It seems Ariko knows that as he looks forlorn.  Kikuta is that sort of suave man who is going to look cool even though he’s doomed; he’s that awesome.
The action returns to Tsurumi at the church having solved the code.  With Tsukishima gone off to try to kill Ariko, Koito has remained behind.  All of a sudden Koito reverts to his extreme Satsuma accent when addressing Tsurumi in the absence of Tsukishima.  I think he didn’t even realize it at first, just like how after they escaped the fight with Boutarou, Koito spoke normally to Tsurumi without realizing it.
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It is clear it took him a moment to realize he was speaking ‘Koito’ as Tsurumi is unable to respond to him and he then panics.  Koito is more than willing to chase after Tsukishima and support him, but Tsurumi instead recalls him.
At first he consoles himself that everything is okay. 
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He is trying very hard to convince himself that everything that they witnessed through the keyhole was all an act to get the key!  Yes, it isn’t that Tsurumi doesn’t have some sort of awesome goal and this isn’t about how the death of his wife and daughter left him unhinged!
But the other random members of the 27th then comment on how strongly Nikaido reeks of beer . . . and Koito then thinks about how he and Tsukishima were hiding in the room at the church when Tsurumi ‘checked’ that he was alone.  And then it hits him - they were also played as a part of the ‘Tsurumi theatre’.  Unlike Tsukishima who has whole-heartily given himself over to Tsurumi, it is clear that Koito can’t.
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That monologue sounded too good to be true.  He weakly says Tsukishima’s name into the rain as he then thinks ‘No . . .’  The rain is really fitting in this scene, I think it really is a stand in for Koito’s own disappointment and tears in this entire crazy quest for the gold.  Is he worried about his ‘older’ brother figure?  Himself?  Both of them?
He continues to try to rationalize the performance that Tsurumi gave them - even if Tsurumi lied to them, it wasn’t all a lie.  Oh Koito.  I want to give you a hug and pull you away as your little bon-bon-ness has won me over.  Most of that speech wasn’t for Koito, it was for Tsukishima.  Speaking about helping Japan is what Koito would like to hear but we can tell he doubts that as well.  Hence, his waffling.
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But then he realizes that as Tsukishima has given so much - all of Tsurumi’s words, even if they were ‘sweet lies’ as he he referred to them on Karafuto, it was just perfect for Tsukishima.  However, Koito has broken the spell that Tsurumi held over him.  The final page of the chapter of Koito looking at the illuminated Tsurumi and shutting the door on him.  It is the exact opposite of when Tsurumi rescued Koito from the kidnappers when in his youth. I now find myself wondering how this relates to the tiger curse.  It is clear that the curse for Tsukishima will not end well.  After he shot Ariko, his eyes regained their sparkle!  Not good, not good at all!  However, have I misinterpreted it for Koito that by becoming disillusioned with Tsurumi he will be cursed to be miserable through him gaining independence from his hero worship of Tsurumi?  The idea that ignorance is bliss, and now Koito is well in the know.  The fact that when he and Tsukishima were sort of on the same page was when he could speak to Tsurumi but now that he’s on a different path from Tsukishima he’s tripped up again.
Chapter 274 finally allows Asirpa to determine the fake skins after what she witnessed with Boutarou in the brewery and thinking about Ainu garments that she figured out that Edogai likely went above and beyond with his fakes.  Thanks money counterfeiting guy from the fake Ainu village for the inspiration.  It is a lot of pages that tie together other plot points nicely but really doesn’t do anything for me as a reader personally.
The most important point is that as Sugimoto falls asleep while Asirpa and Hijikata work with the skins is that we get another flashback - one that links him to Kikuta!
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and even more importantly - Hanazawa Yuusaku!  Chapter 275 starts out with an homage to the classic movie ‘Singing in the Rain’.  As soon as I saw Sugimoto spinning on a lamp post, it was obvious.  Yes, small town boy in the big city - causing trouble.  He gets in some sort of brawl with random guys from the army and is ‘rescued’ by Kikuta, who immediately realizes that he’s hungry and decides to treat him to some lunch.
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It shows that Sugimoto has a short fuse and is an impulsive youngster.  Really, he is lucky that he didn’t do more stupid shit to get him in trouble.  We can also clearly see that Kikuta is a member of the 1st Division, the Tokyo based one that Sugimoto eventually enlists with.
Kikuta decides that he wants Sugimoto to impersonate Hanazawa Yuusaku and to go on a marriage interview for him.  This is because Hanazawa Hiro, the now identified wife of Hanazawa, is pulling the strings in the background to prevent Yuusaku from becoming a flag bearer.
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This then makes us wonder why these two parents have such contrasting expectations for their only son.  It makes me think back to my theory that Yuusaku was a pretty poor solider and lacked any skill or potential.  Long ago, Tsurumi told Nikaido that Ogata is the ‘true heir’ of Hanazawa inheriting his military and [some] leadership skills as he stood on the watch tower in Barato ordering the random gangsters how to fight effectively.  Yuusaku is a disappointment for Hanazawa - he can only save face by having his son become such a symbolic part of the army.
I laughed at the next page where Kikuta confirms that Hiro is colluding with the young heiress to steal Yuusaku’s virginity and thus preventing him from becoming a flag bearer.  I love the posture of the terrified Yuusaku!
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However, Hiro’s plan has been found out by Hanazawa and he consulted with the leader of the 1st Division to assist him with resolving this unpatriotic and embarrassing issue.  Recall that Ogata was born as a result of Hanazawa being posted to Tokyo - this implies that he likely became good friends with the leader of the 1st Division during this time.
To prevent anyone from identifying Sugimoto, he’s the perfect substitute for Yuusaku and changes into Kikuta’s uniform.  He’s one of those guys who just has that look.  Sugimoto immediately thinks that since he’s been treated well by Kikuta, joining the military might be a good way to find security - in food.  However, we get a link of the cap to Kikuta and what appears to be his dying younger brother.
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Kikuta looks so sad, like there is something unfortunate with Sugimoto’s statement of food.  We don’t get to see his expression, indicating he’s likely hiding his emotions from Sugimoto and instead tells Sugimoto he’s going to have to train him in food etiquette.
He’s presented with some Western cuisine, something that may blow his cover and something that Kikuta didn’t expect as he watches from a tree outside.  But again, due to his extreme luck, he’s able to use nervousness as an excuse and it gives him time to state his family his super traditional so they wouldn’t have eaten food like this.  When he’s removed the cap, Kaneko Kaeko is smitten with his handsome face. He can use his excuse as a way to have an out for not knowing how to eat that tasty ebi fry (why to I hear ‘ebi fry’ in Nyanko-sensei’s voice?).
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As she explains the fancy places she’s dined at, Sugimoto thinks about how he was living off of cat food.  Cue another reason why he just hates on Ogata, since he was stealing food from Ogata’s people! 
The rest of the dinner goes well, and Kikuta checks in with him.  Meanwhile, our wealthy heiress is completely smitten with him!
As Sugimoto mulls over the idea of a somewhat arranged marriage as a negative he spills the beans about Toraji and Umeko.  And Kikuta isn’t having any of his bullshit.  I love how Kikuta points out how selfish and downright stupid Sugimoto is being in all of this.  Kikuta gives Sugimoto good advice - which he’s clearly still never followed.
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He makes it clear that he’s got to give up on that hometown and move on.  Which will be completely ignored as Toraji will end up in the 1st Division with Sugimoto in the trenches.  I’m now wondering how Toraji and Sugimoto reconnected.  Hrrrmmmmm?  Is this something that Sugimoto encouraged and that’s why he has all of these unresolved emotions about Toraji’s death in the war?
The chapter reveals to us that Tsukishima’s love ended up marrying the cousin of Kaeko, making Tsukishima’s acceptance of her ‘death’ even more heartbreaking as he thought that Tsurumi had lied to him about her fate.  [weeps bitterly]. 
As Kikuta and Sugimoto discuss what appears to be Yuusaku’s lack of a free will, he’s told not to meddle in others concerns.  What does Sugimoto do? The man just can’t keep to himself and he goes and finds Yuusaku to confront him.  He wants to know if Yuusaku wants to be a flag bearer even though it is a death sentence.  How does that conversation go? Just how we’d expect with all of the information we know about Yuusaku.
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I love how he’s like it isn’t to meet my father’s expectations!  It is because understand my father’s convictions and fight for my country.  Okay, you keep telling yourself that Yuusaku, but it still sounds like you are doing this for your father, you know tomay-to, tomah-to.  Sugimoto mulls over what Yuusaku would choose if given the choice.  I just sigh as we know enough about Yuusaku’s backstory that the man only does what his father says - with great conviction. All of our Ogata flashbacks have made this so clear, Yuusaku is a doomed man from the moment he entered the army.  Maybe even a doomed man from his birth even.  Perhaps, he’s acutely aware of this, but based on how freakkin’ awkward he’s with Ogata and his older brother actions, I continue to think he’s not the brightest bulb in the pack and can only be used as a patriotic pawn.
Yuusaku then becomes suspicious of Sugimoto’s line of inquiry and realizes that he’s got Kikuta’s cap.
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Not sure how to respond, he runs away and we learn that Kikuta’s younger brother died of illness during the first Sino-Japanese war.   That same war that killed Koito’s older brother and that Tsurumi and Tsukishima fought in as well. With the statement of illness, I know what most likely killed Kikuta’s younger brother - malnutrition - specifically beri beri.  As the Japanese military rapidly modernized using European models, they ran into an issue with many soldiers and sailors dying of some sort of mysterious illness and it wasn’t something that impacted the Westerners at all.  Most of this has to do with the ability to eat white rice which was much more processed.  It made it more expensive, but was nutritionally bad for men who came from lower incomes or poverty.  Remember how stoked Asirpa was when she ate white rice all the way back at the herring fishery?  If anyone has read “House of Five Leaves” by Natsume Ono, you’d know the protagonist is a poor ronin and he falls ill due to beri beri.  The solution was to return to the countryside/hometown to eat a more diverse diet.  For a more detailed explanation of how bad this was for the Japanese military check out the video by Linfamy on youtube here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzIBpFDRr5g
The video even highlights the fierce (and counterproductive) competition between the Army and Navy which has already been well defined through Koito’s backstory. The chapter ends with Sugimoto dropping the cap and the polite man who picks it up for him is Tsurumi with Ogata, Usami and Tsukishima in Tokyo. The plot thickens . . . somehow Sugimoto got mixed up in the business of the 27th and apparently Tokyo isn’t a vast city that you can get lost in and everyone knows everyone.  Like how I was on flight to Saskatoon and the man next to me started up a conversation how he was from Burlington and went to Guelph and my friend who I was going to visit was also from Burlington and went to Guelph it is a small world kinda moment and in agriculture.  I digress though.  Things are starting to pull back together but I’m still not 100% on with this plot direction/story arc.
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writing-frenzy · 4 years ago
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I Wouldn’t Risk It (SVSSS Fic)
Summery: In which one annoyed Shang Huan does not know why he puts up with a certain Demonic Cultivator- “I owe you.” ah, that’s right.
Warning: some Violence and blood, and cursing. All good things to be found in svsss canon~
(In which @hamelin-born is a terrible, wonderful enabler, thus this is how it came about.)
EDIT: Part of Wager verse, first Part HERE
----
“Welcome to- oh wait it’s you.” Shang Huan started to greet some incoming customers, only to give the pair that came in a flat look instead.
“Greetings Uncle Shang!” Cao Mei, an actually adorable raven haired girl, her purple eyes so dark one could almost think they were black if it weren’t for certain lighting here and there. Puberty was obviously treating her well, seeing she must have been 19 at least, was developing some curves, her baby fat also finally melted off. But despite this, Shang Huan was unmoved, as for one, he wasn’t a fucking pedo, and two, he could easily see that same matching intelligence and calculation she inherited from her grandfather’s own dark purple eyes.
As expected of Wife #45; not only a knock out beauty in the making, but even had more IQ points then most, along with a more developed character and backstory then a lot of his later wife plots.
Though, he could admit he was taken off guard with her story then most; the cause of that being one certain person-
“I see the place hasn’t burnt down yet; congratulations for that.” was huffed by said anomaly, making Shang Huan focus his deadpan face on the other.
“Thanks, my kitchen staff is always trying though.” and no sooner were the words spoken, then what sounded like multiple firecrackers going off in said kitchen... He could even swear he saw what looked like a blue firework of a bird fly out from there, before one of his handy golems ate it as it passed...
Closing his eyes, Shang Huan counted to three, before opening them once more; he would never be able to count as high as he really wanted, but time was rarely on his side, so three it was. Hazel eyes once more opening, Shang Huan was able to look at a source of many headaches, one Dark Poison Sect Leader, Cao Xiaowen, a true doting grandfather who still looked like he was only in his late 20s, his blood red hair peppered with black from all the resentful energy surrounding him, and greys from stress of life actually catching up with him.
And a character that was never in Proud Immortal Demon Way, but yet again from one of his other stories; a Demonic Sect Leader that had just been a random background character, just to flesh out that world a bit more. He had only named because while he could get away without naming the Sect the guy made, it wouldn’t make sense to have Cao Xiaowen be nameless, seeing as he had bullshited a whole bunch of techniques this infamous and well known demonic cultivator was supposed to have made...
Making a face at that smiling face before him, Shang Huan felt some regrets; just some more to add to his pile stashed in his closet and under his floorboards, but what can one do? Especially with a story that seems to make sure he can never forget any of them, always seeming to push willing to push cheery, willful mistakes into his face.
i.e. the Demonic Sect Leader before him.
But then again, to see these two characters, Cao Xiaowen and Cao Mei connect here, in this living world of PIDW and other mash ups, was honestly rather amazing, just with Demonic Cultivation and the same last names... It was as fascinating as it was paranoia inducing. Cao Mei had been just another revenge wife plot, the young woman wanting vengeance against her Mother for killing her loved family members along with trying to kill her... as well as to save her young baby brother, who their Mother was trying to mold into her perfect image of Sect Leader. The girl had only been able to survive for as long as she did because one of her dying relatives had sacrificed themselves, turning themselves into her Spirit Familiar and protecting her...
.... And as for Cao Xiaowen, when he had mentioned how he went down in his end in his own story verse, Airplane had only said that it was due to betrayal and sacrifice, that being the only ending he gave the character...
(How many other fucking throwaway lines does he have to worry about ohmygodwhyisthishislife-)  
“...So, why do you choose now to darken my doorway?” Shang Huan asked, the unspoken ‘I-know-you-hate-this-place-much-less-willing-to-bring-your-beloved-granddaughter-with-you.’ not said, but easily heard.
“... You would be glad to know, but I must now introduce you to Sect Leader of the Dark Poison Sect, Cao Meihui.” Cao Xiaowen introduced as he motioned to the young girl. Shang Huan stared for but a moment before closing his eyes once more, even as whispers broke out all around them in his place, from the gambling tables to even the bar and restaurant.
This time he allowed himself to count to 10, as a treat.
“Follow me this way, Elder Cao, Sect Leader Cao.” and with a simple hand motion, a few of his workers already getting things done, the Ruby Room already to entertain his ‘guests’. It didn’t take to long after all, with his standards and staff precision, but he needed to make sure there was nothing to spy on in this conversation.
Because oh, does he have a lot to say right now.
Once the door was closed and all the silences spells and talismans in place, Shang Huan rounded on the now sitting pair, letting his hands slam on the service table before him.
“Can you not?!” Shang Huan seethed, even as Cao Xiaowen grinned, his heir now leader beside him shifting ever so slightly beside him, smartly making some space between them.
“Why, Shang Huan, what ever do you mean?”
“You politic in my place again and I will make sure to show the world just how much I can beat you into the ground.” was practically growled, Cao Xiaowen smartly raising his hands in surrender as he did. “Why the hell did you even need to do that, didn’t you already get the stalker bitch killed and dispersed last year? I distinctly remember being there for the mad ramblings.” 
-Urgh- he never wanted that much TMI into someone’s deluded sexual fantasies, especially rounding around this who-me? Demonic Cultivator! Body stealing and marrying the guy’s son just to get a possible chance at him, and then killing him and half his family when she still couldn’t get what she wanted to spite him?
Shang Huan doesn’t move, but that still doesn’t mean he’s not fighting a shiver of repulsion at the thought. Seeing the way Cao Xiaowen grimaced at the reminder, Shang Huan was actually starting to feel in a better mood. 
“While she and most of her supporters are now gone, traces of those who still hold sympathies for her and her ideals still remain.” the man scowled, even as he took out a small sachet, handing the small plain back over as he did.
Hmmm, spicy roasted melon seeds; say what you will about the man, he did know his bribes at least.
“They’re also trying to push my little didi to be the next Sect Leader, even though he never wanted it in the first place!” Cao Meihui scowled in turn, taking out a beautiful, yet still deadly battle fan to fan herself. “Really, he has suffered enough under that woman’s ‘care’, he should be able to choose however he wishes to live in life!”
Shang Huan doesn’t even wince at those words, even as he thinks on the poor fate of canon fodder Cao Yun, a young boy desperate to leave his harsh home circumstances, even joining a certain Righteous Sect set to be doomed and destroyed, loosing his home once again and setting him in turn on a doomed quest to stop Luo Binghe...
Well, considering the boy had left home at 15, and had only just turned that this year, maybe that path could be prevented; there were still plenty of other Sects still up and running when his protagonist came into power, maybe he could join one of those?
Still though, maybe he should give the kid a transportation talisman for his birthday; you can never have too many of those after all.
“That still does not explain why you had to announce Young Mei right in front of my store.”
“Please, it’s the perfect place too; not many completely neutral places around anymore, what with Hua Hua Palace trying to police everyone and dragging the other Righteous Sects into it... Speaking of which, they haven’t bothered you after last time, have they?” Cao Xiaowen asks, with what looks like could be actual concern in his eyes.... Ha-
“I’m pretty sure they won’t forget my warding anytime soon; not to mention the rest of the towns folk’s farewells.” Shang Huan replies dryly, remembering just how all those golden pricks were beautifully thrown from his store, some of his staff even joining in on the beatdown the protection brought forth. If he remembers right, it soon became a whole town wide event to run them all out. 
And when you have a whole town seemingly a melting pot filled with Spiritual beings, humans, and demons, they definitely are going to have their wounds to lick.
“But again, my place is, as you said Neutral; so why are you bringing in politics here? Announcements of a new Sect Leader should be only at official events or places that one is already allied with after all.” The Owner of the Gilded Plane asks lightly, those hazel eyes taking on a deadly touch, like molten liquid gold is taking over bronze, a sunset of colors being the last of the sky you will ever see, easily to see it all reflected in the blade at his side.
(Ah, how terrifying, seeing the threat of Fortune’s Favored all out to bare, Dujin Xue at his side, the spirit weapon willing and bloodthirsty to take out any threat to its master.)
For a moment, all is silent, before finally, the red haired cultivator takes from his sleeves, a few boxes simple in their decorations and yet obviously of the finest Jade.
“I almost forgot; I have with me some of the finest of Blight and Poison Talismans with me, not to mention my newest creations; a Pipa made with Blood Drain White Wood and using heart strings of an abyssal creature, painted with curse residue.” Cao Xiaowen motions to an opened box with said black and purple instrument with white accents, truly a work of art and power, even unbound as it is, no master to really work those deadly strings just yet.
Another box is soon opened as well, revealing a twin pair of daggers, their blades white with a beautiful red handle for a hilt. “Not to mention these Ancient Necromancer’s Bone Daggers, recently uncovered in an old tomb, plenty of resentful energy and dark desires just waiting to be unveiled in any upcoming battle, madness in but a cut to be delivered...” the former Sect Leader says, a bit of sweat coming from his brow, those dark eyes uneasy even as he hides behind his bluster and charm. His granddaughter, Cao Meihui watches intently, her own dark eyes worried even as she is awed by her beloved grandfather’s work, and the man who can make him so nervous. 
The one Fortune’s Favored watches and listens, and waits, even as he is showcased all the wares most people would die to get their hands on, each item worth more then most lives to some.
“... I will give you a warning and you will be Marked for it; there will be no next time if you try and pull this stunt again, you hear me Xiaowen?” Shang Huan allows, eyes turning back into that warm and soft hazel, even as he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he does. Well, at least he now has more good things in store for his gambling patrons, who will no doubt go crazy for these goods.
(Never noticing how the familial pair relax, a breath of relief taken for their own that this gambit actually worked, even if they are now Marked by all the staff.
Best behavior is a must for now at least.) 
-----+----- 
~15 Years ago~
Cao Xiaowen, once just regular Cao Xiao, was a man most would never dare cross; as a Demonic Cultivator, you wouldn’t even be able to escape through death. He had cultivated carefully along his chosen path, having no talent for what was Righteous roads, so turned down to darker paths and alleys to get what he wanted. He had been smart about it, and equally talented for Demonic Cultivation, becoming a Bounty Hunter to be able to hide just what practices he used.
Not only did it get him much needed gold, but the resentful energy and blood of the wicked were quiet useful on his path. Unlike other Demonic Cultivators that sought to take in the energies as fast as possible to form their Obsidian Cores, killing innocents, and eventually needing Cauldrons in the end to balance themselves and to go farther in their Cultivation, Cao Xiaowen went for a more steadfast pace.
He first started with crafting items of Resentful energy, talismans and amulets to get a better feel for the delicacies of the energy he chose to work with. With time and effort, along with plenty of meditation and blood on his hands, he found a cultivation path that suited him rather well, untraditional as it was for the usual brutal force most Demonic Cultivators usually went. His path was like a slow acting poison, letting the wicked energies ever so carefully, ever so gently gather into his meridians, building up a steady foundation before he ever focused on building his Core.
And the results for it were astounding; when compared to traditional Demonic Cultivators, not only could Cao Xiaowen hold his own with those stages above his own, he could beat even those whose Cultivation that was said to be an entire level above him. Not to mention just how devastating his spells and attacks were against those of the Righteous Sects.
It was no surprise that when he founded his own Sect, he had plenty of disciples to chose and pick from...But he wasn’t stupid.
He knew he had plenty of enemies all around him, some just jealous of his power, others hateful of just how he got it, being a Demonic Cultivator was a sin for some even if he only went after criminals. That he was a rather attractive even as his red hair was peppered black and grey, and even a few tigers acting like pigs to be fatten all came for him in the end. He knows people were waiting in the shadows, eager to take him down and steal everything he worked for, salivating over his abilities and life work...
Though despite it all, he never expected the betrayal to come so close to home.
“P-papa.” was stuttered out by his honestly rather adorable Granddaughter, the young four year old sobbing as she reached for him; his daughter in law smiling all the while even as she held one of his crafted knives to the little girl’s throat. He had to give it to her, not many women could still look so devastatingly beautiful, covered as they were in their husband’s blood. He never expected the raven haired woman to be so ruthless, honestly sure the woman loved his son.
Looks like he still has errors in his judgement, even at his age; taken off guard on what he though would be a simple material gathering mission, only to be crippled and threatened by a woman he thought he could trust even as she slit his beloved child’s throat before his eyes.
“You really shouldn’t have refused me all those years ago; this all could have been avoided if you had just agreed to be mine... oh well, too late for regrets.” The woman mourns softly, making Cao Xiaowen feel his brow crinkle, dark eyes confused.
But trying to parse the words of the mad woman was not something he had time for, seeing as his lovely little granddaughter was suddenly in his arms, the both of them finding themselves being pushed off a cliff, and into the Broken Jaw Ravine.
Using what remained of his spiritual energy in his blighted Obsidian Core, Cao Xiaowen was fully prepared to become his dear granddaughter’s Familiar Spirit to protect her...
When in the end, it turned out unnecessary; they ended up landing in a Spirit Capture Net. And judging by the pure color and Qi he could feel running through it, a high quality one at that. Feeling how it blocked him from using any of his spiritual energy and Qi, he looked to his darling dear grandchild, the (forcibly) retired Sect Leader couldn’t help but feel so relieved to see her shaken, but well at least in body.
And then he heard the cursing.
“What in the fuck you soggy old vulture of a corpse! Curses on your fucking clothing to never be nice and pristine, to always stub your toe on the corner, to be miserable even when you have your favorite food! Do you know how long it took to make that net?! Could you have fallen somewhere else? No, of course the skies would decide to shit on me with some young man in my beautifully crafted net! Probably jumped off for the heck of it knowing how fucking dumb most Demonic Cultivators are! ARRRHGGGG YOU DAMN WALNUT!” was practically ranted below them, a young brunet man yelling up at him, who couldn’t be more then in his 20′s. (Though rather impressively at the Peak of Core Formation from what he could sense.)
As it was, two pairs of dark eyes could only give the ranting rouge a wide eyed stare, even when, in the end, the young man let them down, hazel eyes narrowed in on them. He raised one brow at his child that was with him, but easily narrowed them back onto Cao Xiaowen’s own.
Ah, he could probably sense his power (use his weakness).
“So, this is how it is going to go down. I’ll help heal you and your kid, won’t even leave her in debt... tho your ass is mine; I say jump, you better do it and ask if this is high enough. You will owe me till the end of your day and then some, and in return I will benevolently help you out. You agree or should I leave you and the kid here for any unpleasant fates?” was the rather grumpy, if smartly given offer, Cao Xiaowen finding he can’t help but respect it, even as crudely as it was put. Looking down to his innocent little Cao Mei, the grandfather could only nod at the offer, no other recourse that could ensure his little gem a better chance at life.
And thus marked the first meeting between the terrible and powerful Dark Poison Sect Leader Cao Xiaowen, and the Rogue Cultivator Shang Huan, who would one day have a title even greater then his own.
Amazing really, how some things start (and others end).
-----
:D Here we are, another story from this verse; it was really fun! (even if I actually had to create a damn timeline to make sure everything was straight TTxTT)
Anyways, here is an ally of Airplane! Their relationship can be described as.
Shang Huan: Why do I put up with you again?
Cao Xiaowen: Because I have the best gifts bitch. *Inwardly sweaty*
But Also-
Cao Xiaowen: So... Demonic Cultivating involves a lot of... Dual Cultivating huh... And are those innocents being brutally murdered over there?
Rando: Yeah, ain’t it great? :D
Cao Xiaowen: ... *proceeds to make a cultivation path that involves as little Dual Cultivation as needed while also being one of the nicest ironically* Ah, that is better, better get more wicked blood~
These two were really fun to write together, and with PIDW, I can make as many ocs as I want~ So much to do, so much to play with~
Oh yeah, Shang Hua’s blade, Dujin Xue means Gilded Blood :3
Cao I picked for being a common last name, while Xiaowen means red skies. Mei means red gem, but for Meihui I liked the meaning of monstrous/demonic beauty~ As you can see, I had fun~ 
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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years ago
Text
If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Thirty Seven
If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag
June 6th, 1986
Remy wasn’t entirely sure what his mother was glaring at the TV for. He was watching it play some boring news station or another, and there were a lot of people shouting, throwing things and picking fights, while rainbows and dozens of flags with different colors flew around in the background. His mother cursed under her breath, but Remy heard her.
Why was she so angry? Usually she didn’t get this mad, even if people were fighting. “They’re clearly wrong, why are they fighting against the truth?” his mother muttered.
Fight against the truth? Remy didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. What did rainbow flags and fighting have anything to do with truth?
  June 11th, 2001
Remy’s first impression of Pride was that it was incredibly overwhelming. Remy’s second impression of Pride was that it was making Emile let loose, something Remy wasn’t sure was even possible until this point. Remy’s third impression of Pride was that it. Was. Awesome. Like, completely off-the-chain awesome.
People were surrounding them on all sides, some with pride flags, others with pins and badges, and some dressed like they were just going out on the town for a day. But all of them were happy, and laughing, and joking, and Remy wasn’t sure he had ever encountered so much positive energy in one place before.
Emile was standing next to him, beaming. He was currently looking around, for what, Remy wasn’t sure. Remy just hung next to him, unsure of where to go. He definitely enjoyed this, but he was so completely out of his element.
“Come on, girl, anywhere you want to go first?” Emile asked with a grin.
Remy’s cheeks dusted pink as he shuffled on his feet. He was wearing more feminine clothing today, his reasoning being that no one at a pride parade would care about whether or not he dressed masculine. He could probably go full drag and no one would bat an eye. But still, Emile calling him “girl” did something to his emotions that he couldn’t describe. “I’ve never been to a pride parade before,” he said. “I don’t know what there is to go to.”
“Okay, fair enough,” Emile said with a grin. “Why don’t we just look around at some of the stalls?”
“Okay,” Remy said, following Emile over.
He was surprised by how much of a social butterfly Emile was being. He was waving and high-fiving anyone in the general vicinity, yelling, “Girl, same!” whenever someone showed off bisexual colors, and generally putting himself out there in a way that Remy had only done anonymously in clubs before. Here, he supposed things were a little anonymous too, but it was still in broad daylight, where people could see them.
Emile walked up to one of the stalls, chirping, “Hi!” to the people on the other side.
Remy looked at the banner on their table and saw it was something for Catholics who were LGBT, and Remy inwardly shook his head fondly, because Emile wasn’t the most devout, but he did occasionally go to Mass. Of course he’d like people who were affirming in his faith. Remy looked around the other stalls curiously as Emile talked. He wasn’t really religious himself; he had too many bad experiences with his family’s church growing up to really put any trust in a higher power. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about which denominations might be accepting.
Emile took a little pamphlet from one of the people and came over to Remy. “See any churches you like?” he asked.
“Not really religious,” Remy shrugged. “Bad experiences.”
Emile winced. “Yeah, understandable. Should we move further in?”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Remy agreed.
They walked down the street and Remy looked around. There were a few big name corporations advertising here, but not very many. There were stalls for small book companies, and...he paused. There was one for a queer comics startup! “Emile!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “Comics!”
Emile laughed and followed Remy over to the stall as Remy looked at the different illustrations they had. So many cool superheroes, and then some more realistic-fiction looking stories, and some high fantasy and sci-fi was scattered in there too. “Woah,” he breathed.
“You like comics?” the woman behind the stall asked with a small smile.
“Like is an understatement,” Remy said, eyes never leaving the pictures. “Are you guys selling these?”
“These comics are purely for display,” the woman said. “But we are starting up subscriptions as we’re gaining traction. We’re in a couple comic stores around, where do you live?”
“Uh...” Remy blinked, forcing himself into the present. “Fairview.”
The woman nodded. “We’re in the comics store there, yeah. That’s about as far out as we’ve gotten, though.”
“Hey, if it means I get to read you guys, then it’s fine by me!” Remy exclaimed.
The woman laughed and offered him a bookmark. “Here’s a little information on us, and our company name, of course. I hope you like what you read from us.”
“Definitely,” Remy said.
He was still starry-eyed and Emile gently dragged him away from the stall. “They have queer comics, Emile! Like, I know there’s some queer characters in bigger comics, but these stories...they have main characters who aren’t straight! Can you imagine?!”
Emile laughed. “Hopefully one day they’ll have cartoons like that, too. Then maybe I can understand what you’re feeling a little better.”
Remy was almost hyperventilating. “Pride is amazing,” he said. “I love this. Can we come back next year?!”
“We definitely can,” Emile laughed.
They continued to walk, Emile constantly chatting and greeting people still. Remy got a few nods, and he shyly returned them, holding onto Emile’s hand.
“Hey, girl! In the leather jacket!” a voice called from behind them.
Remy turned in surprise as another person who was wearing a full-on dress in light blue, pink, and white walked over. “I really dig your outfit, girl! You look fabulous!”
“Oh! Uh, th-thank you,” Remy stammered out, nowhere near his usual confident self.
“She and her pronouns for me. You?” she asked.
“Uh...” Remy hesitated. Why was he hesitating? What was so hard about this? “He and him, I guess?”
The woman looked him over closely. “It’s okay, girl, we all have to figure ourselves out in our own time. He and him work for you, that’s great, but if you ever want to switch it up, know that you can do that, you know?” she asked.
“Uh...yeah,” Remy said. “I...I don’t think I’m transgender, but uh...I don’t always like being called sir, you know? Sometimes it’s fine, others it’s just...suffocating.”
“Gender roles are suffocating girl, I getcha,” she said, nodding. “Nice to meet you. Tell your cutie of a boyfriend that I like his enthusiasm.”
Remy smiled and nodded, and she moved on. Emile turned to look at him. “Who was that?”
“Don’t know,” Remy said. “But she liked your enthusiasm.”
Emile laughed. “Oh! Well, that’s sweet of her!”
“She also called you a cutie, in case you missed it,” Remy said. “And she’s not wrong.”
Emile laughed, blushing. “Well, I don’t see what either of you see in me, but if enough people say I’m cute, then I guess I’m doomed to be cute forever, huh?”
“Not forever,” Remy said. “And some people might find you hot. I like it when you wear those skinny jeans. Those look really good on you.”
“Remy!” Emile hissed. “That’s not helpful!”
Remy laughed. “Oh, come on, Emile! You know it’s all in good fun!”
“Do I, though?” Emile asked.
“I should hope so,” Remy said. “After all, you’re the one who jokingly called me ‘hot’ first.”
“You can’t prove anything,” Emile said. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you’re the one who thought of me as hot first.”
“Yeah? I thought you were hot the day I dropped out of college and saw you in those skinny jeans for the first time, Emile. I’m not talking serious, I’m talking jokes. Get with the program,” Remy teased.
Emile snorted before clapping a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking. “That early? Really?” he asked.
Remy shrugged. “What can I say? I know how to make anyone look good.”
“Shut up!” Emile laughed, starting to walk away.
“You know I love you, Emile,” Remy said. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you look hot, because I love you either way.”
“And I, you,” Emile said, kissing Remy’s nose. “Which is why I argue you don’t need that leather jacket everywhere you go.”
“Excuse you, that’s not to make me look hot, that’s part of my aesthetic!” Remy protested.
“Either way it’s unnecessary, Rem,” Emile shrugged.
Remy pouted. “You’re no fun,” he declared.
“Well, I do try,” Emile said. “It’s my mission to make sure you know I’m a stick in the mud, after all.”
“But you’re my stick in the mud,” Remy said.
“Oh, you better believe it. I’m not leaving you for anything in the world!” Emile said.
Remy laughed and his stomach held butterflies. “You mean that?”
Emile paused. “Yeah, of course I do,” he eventually said. “Barring some unfortunate accident, a messy fight, or any more drama from any sides, I don’t see myself leaving you.”
“Like, never?” Remy asked. He didn’t know why he was pressing this issue, but something inside him just wanted to be absolutely certain that Emile was certain.
Emile looked down at the ground, shuffling on his feet before he kissed Remy softly, sweetly, and with so much adoration Remy was practically drowning in it. A few people around them cheered or whistled, but Remy paid them no mind. His only focus was Emile, when he pulled apart, resting his forehead against Remy’s as he murmured, “Like, never. Never ever.”
Remy wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, so he blurted, “That’s gay, Emile.”
Emile laughed. “I love you too, Rem. Where do you want to go next?”
“Uh...food place, maybe? I could use a snack, if not lunch,” Remy said with a shrug.
“To the food trucks!” Emile exclaimed, causing Remy to laugh as they walked hand-in-hand.
Emile swung their hands lightly forwards and backwards as they walked, and Remy grinned. Emile, even when somewhat muted and calmer at pride, was still incredibly happy, and bubbly, and alive. He loved it when Emile seemed to come to life in a whole new way that Remy hadn’t seen before.
“What are you thinking about?” Emile lightly teased.
“You,” Remy said honestly. “You’re just...so alive. You’re completely in your element, and you’re so friendly and happy. You’re like a puppy experiencing grass for the first time. And it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, shut up,” Emile said, blushing. “I just really like Pride.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Remy said, nodding. “I don’t know why, it just seems to be something you’d like.”
Emile laughed and kissed Remy’s cheek. “It’s pretty great to not worry about PDA.”
“True,” Remy agreed, taking half a step towards Emile.
Emile squeezed Remy’s hand. “I’m super glad you came with me.”
“I’m super glad I came with you too,” Remy said. “Because I’m pretty sure Pride wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Emile grinned. “I mean, I’m sure you could have some fun without me...”
“But why would I want to?” Remy asked. “You make Pride fun...or more fun at any rate.”
“You mean that?” Emile asked.
“Of course,” Remy said. “I’m not sure I would want to go at all without you. You just make it...special.”
Emile squeezed Remy’s hand again as they approached the food trucks. “You flatter me,” Emile said.
“I’m speaking the truth,” Remy said. “Don’t sell yourself short, Emile.”
“Come on, what’s so fascinating about me that I make Pride more interesting?”
“You come out of your shell, like, entirely,” Remy said. “I’ve never seen you be so comfortable around a group of certified strangers before.”
“Well, the fact that I know they all at the very least support the fact that you’re gay and I’m bisexual and we’re dating helps,” Emile said simply. “I can go up to people and talk about you without having to just use your name and hope people assume I’m referring to you as a girlfriend.”
Remy sighed. “Yeah, I know you’ve felt weird about me visiting you at work because of that. Most everyone at my jobs know except for the managers, so as long as we don’t do obvious PDA we’re usually in the clear. But not having to worry about that at all is...”
“Freeing?” Emile offered.
“Yeah,” Remy agreed. “It’s definitely freeing.”
Emile grinned. “Aw, Remy, you like me!”
“Shut up!” Remy laughed. “You knew this for literal months!”
“You like me! You like me!” Emile repeated, practically bouncing up and down.
Remy sighed and rolled his eyes, but inside, he was smiling. When they first met, he would never have thought he could have ever made Emile as happy as he was right now, let alone enjoy it. But he was never so happy to be wrong.
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aquaticalay · 5 years ago
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Siren .Chapter One.
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes fancies you, a singer who performs at a local bar every Monday and Friday night. After a few months of attending your gigs, Bucky finally got the chance to talk to you. One problem: you are New York's sonic screaming vigilante. And the avengers have been trying to figure out who you are for months. (Post-Endgame)
Warning/s for this chapter : cursing??? Is this even a warning anymore???
Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, eventual smut (which you can skip)
Word count: 1700+ (a little short, but this chapter is more of an introduction)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Marvel characters. The song I'm using in this chapter is 'Crowbar' by Frank Carter and the Rattlesnakes.
Note: I'M FINALLY BACK. I finally found the time to commit to another multichapter fanfic, which I posted the summary to nearly half a year ago. There were people who requested to be on the taglist already months ago, and I will tag them below. If you want to get off the taglist, just let me know! (No hard feelings, preferences change!) Anyway, I apologize for the long hiatus. The reason it took so long was that I wasn't happy with how the first plot outline turned out, so I had to re do it a couple of times and even tweak the original idea a bit until I was finally happy with the plot. That, and the last few months were hectic for me. I also apologize for reuploading this for the third time, but Tumblr did not show this in the tags.
Anyway, I will be posting a new chapter every two days. Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist!
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Something about punk was liberating. It was empowering. It gave freedom back to the people. Back to you. You could say whatever the fuck you wanted, wear whatever the fuck you wanted.
That's why you loved performing in New York's thriving underground scene.
You sang at bars weekly, usually just performing whenever you could get a gig, but a dive bar in Myrtle Avenue, Brooklyn, booked you twice a week. Mermaid's Tail was an all-ages inclusive bar you've been going to for as long as you can remember.
"We're on in 5 minutes," called Lando, pulling his bass strap over his head.
Lando has been your bestfriend throughout both your childhood and adulthood. He was also a member of your band, along with two other great friends you made along the way, Vince and Luna.
"Alright," you say, dramatically standing up from the speaker you were sitting on, a lopsided grin on your face, "let's get the party started!"
-
The stage wasn't big. Not at all. It just had a slightly elevated floor, and just enough space for Luna's drumkit and a few amps for the guitar and bass.
You head on stage, the crowd still hyped up from the ska band who played before you.
The crowd was as big as two hundred, and it was so diverse, as you liked it. People of all ages, all shades of melanin, and all backgrounds seem to enjoy the music. Some stay at the bar and enjoyed the booze.
You came on stage, a wireless microphone wrapped tightly around your fist like a baseball bat. As Vince started playing a slow and haunting guitar riff, you shouted into the microphone "How are we feeling, Mermaid's Tail?" You said, responded by a couple of enthusiastic 'woo's from the crowd.
"We are a couple of kids from Manhattan called the Submariners, here to play you a few songs. this one is called Crowbar!"
A few people who has been to one of your show recognized it and started to jump up and down. The song started quite slowly, a simple guitar riff, a low bassline, subtle drums and your voice almost a whisper.
"We all come from an explosion in the sky. One day there was nothing and the next there was life. And all the rivers and the mountains and the sun and the moon. And then all of a sudden there's a cloud of doom'
As soon as the chorus strikes, the drums became more complicated, and your voice louder to compliment the beat. The room simultaneously jumped, as if they know the rhythm by heart.
"It's a trap, and there's no comfort fitting in. A fake safety that no one believes in  And if it goes against who you think you are It's the death of happiness  Go and get the crowbar"
As the song progresses, the crowd became more elated. More energetic, more electric. As a result, you did, too.
"We all fell down from a tired dying star,Star dust on the breeze to fuckin' pick an avatar. From nothing into all and then the next thing to arrive is the terrifying fear of how you're supposed to live your life"
The beginning second chorus invited a welcomed chaos that the audience was enjoying, not caring about anything but the sounds that you make.
"People everywhere will try to bring you down. Those jealous motherfuckers they will try and take your crown"
The instrumentals quited down a bit, leaving room for your emotions, anger and rage, to seep out of your voice like honey.
"It's easier for them to put you in a box, Keep you safely locked away because they hate it when the boat's rocked. But fuck 'em all, they don't tell us who we are. So when they try and lock you up, go and get the fucking crowbar!"
You bent your vocal chords, intentionally making it crack, nearly screaming, like you were hiding in something you'd rather be showing to the world. Of course, this was not the full extent of your vocal chords, but any louder and everyone in the block would have their eardrums bleeding. Lucky for them, you knew your limits and controlled it well.
The last bit of the song, you sang freely, the crowd turning into a moshpit, eventually melting into a pot of adrenaline, sweat and excitement.
Finishing the song, you let out a sigh of relief and a chuckle, "You guys are a fiesty bunch, aren't you?"
As the crowd of 200 roared, you continued to the next song, and the next, and the next, until the gig was over.
One person caught you attention at the corner of your eye. The sharp-featured man sat at the bar with a drink, wearing a black jacket and gloves. His hair was black or brown, depending on the light, tied to a messy bun. His eyes, however, were somewhat still a mystery. He had aviator sunglasses on, though it wasn't that dark a shade. It dark enough so the color of his eyes were hidden, but light enough for you to see the movement of his pupils, where your very motion seemed to act like a magnet to his sight. Something that disturbed you was that he was always there when you were performing, downing unholy amounts of alchohol, but somehow he didn't flinch. His posture indicated that he was always sober. He was alert, never slouched, not even for one second. As much as you tried to ignore him, you couldn't shake off the paranoia.
As your show ended and the band head off the stage to the back room, Lando whispered in your ear discreetly, "Meeting in the back room. Now."
You nodded ever so slightly, and replied, "give me 10 minutes."
And with that, Lando, Vince, and Luna went one way, and you a seperate route.
-
You made your way through the crowd as a another band took the stage, a thumping rythm accompanying your movements.
You quickly spot the man on the bar. He looks like he was going to leave after finishing his drink, but you swift take a seat on the bar stool next to him. You signal to the bartender and ordered, "two beers!" You exclaimed, handing him a few bucks, "One for me, and one for the gentlemen. Keep the change."
You delicately glanced at the man, who only raised his eyebrow in fascination. Before neither of you could say anything, the bartender slid the bottles your way.
You grabbed it both, and handed one over to the man, who graciously accepted your offer.
You took a sip, then turned to face him, "And does the gentlemen have a name?"
He hestitated, but told you, "James."
"James," you said, a forced sweetness coming out of your voice. You did not bother to introduce yourself. You figured if that if he's seen you perform, he must know your name."You look familiar," you continued, "Have you been at the Mermaid's Tail before?"
"A couple of times," he admitted, taking a sip on his own.
You weren't stupid, nor ignorant. You knew it was more than a couple of times. More like a couple dozen times, but you knew better than to confront him directly. You had to coax his intentions out of him in order to get the truth.
"You like the music?" You asked, and he shrugged, easing into the conversation.You noticed the charm hidden behind his secretive demeanor. "I like the atmosphere."
You didn't know if you should believe what he said, but decided to go along with it. Nodding a little, you chugged the beer until it was half empty and pretended to lose balance on the stool, dropping the rest of the beer on the floor. You let yourself fall into James' arms, propping yourself up, pretending to regain balance. James gently helped you, while you trace every inch of his clothing, trying to find a wallet or a phone— anything that could give you a clue about his identity, but frustratingly, you can't seen to find any. He either forgot everything at home, or was smart enough not to put important things in places where he could get picked. You had a feeling it was most likely the latter than the former.
He helped you back to the bar stool, both his hands on your hips, steadying you. You were aware of the inconsistency on his left grip, as if it was somehow more certain than his right. Unfortunately, his gloves kept you from getting more information.
You forced a chuckle, "sorry," you said, "the adrenaline's still pumping. Y'know, after a gig."
"S'okay," he let out a smile as if your display of joy was contagious.
"Well," you said finally, "I think my friends are waiting for me. See you around, James?"
He nodded sincerely, "See you around."
Turning around, you could feel his eyes linger on you as you disappeared into the crowd.
-
"There she is!" Vince, rolling his eyes, when you entered the back room, "Finally!"
Vince was on a chair, Luna on the table, and Lando had his eyes glued to his laptop screen, which was on the same table Luna was sitting on.
"Done flirting with mr. sunglasses indoors?" Luna laughed, but you just took the joke lightly and shook your head. "His name is James. And there's something weird about him."
"Besides wearing sunglasses indoors?" Luna taunted the obvious with a cheeky smile, and Vince smacked her upside in the head playfully. "He is sketchy. He's been going to our gigs here for months."
"Maybe he likes music," Vince suggested, "Did you pick his pocket?" He asked, knowing that pickpocketting was your usual method of finding out who people are.
"I tried. Found nothing," you said, a hint of defeat in your voice.
"That is sketchy," Luna agreed.
"Will you shut up!" Lando complained, "I'm working here!"
"Geez," Luna said, getting up from a table, and grabbing a briefcase from a cupboard, "Someone's sensitive." She opened the briefcase, revealing a gun in it. It was a glock 19x, which she and Vince modified specifically for stealth and tactical shooting. "Did you bring the bullet rounds?" She asked Vince. He replied by tossing her two rounds, which she prepared for use. It was always this way. Luna and Vince were the weapon specialists, Lando the tech genius, and you? You did all the dirty work by yourself.
You didn't mind, though. In fact, it was addicting.
"Yes!" Lando suddenly exclaimed. He stood up and faced you, "Suit up, (Y/n)," he said, "I found another lead on our guy."
You smirked, knowing what to do.
After all, you and your misfit friends were musicians by night, a vigilante team by midnight.
-
Taglist:
@thejourneyneverendsx @ispepeagain @magykal-777 @sfxsucker  @justanothergirlwithdemons @ciochesono @allonszassbutt @hennessy0274-blog​ @chubby-dumplin @talk-geek-to-me @moli1497
Please let me know if I missed anyone!
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bifuriouswaterbender · 5 years ago
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Harry Potter Fanfic Recommendations about Trans Characters
I will not pretend to be an expert by any means when I am cis, but I’ve come across plenty of stories with trans characters in the past and wanted to not only re-find them but also discover more. Here is a far-from-comprehensive list of links sorted by which character is trans. Some of these stories have more than one, in which case I deferred to the protagonist. 
I intend to keep adding to this as I discover more, so if anyone has specific recommendations, please send them my way! I only have ten listed thus far, but I wanted to get the list out there.
Harry Potter
the girl who lived (again) - Features Harry/Ginny. 10,330 words. Rated G.
Molly tried her best. When Harry had told them, Arthur had asked excitedly, "is this a Muggle thing?" Hermione had hurried out a "no!" and a frantic history of gender diversity in the wizarding world.
"It's just that I'm a girl," Harry had said, and Arthur had nodded and asked her about how telephone booths worked. He would call her by the right pronouns until the day he died at the respectable old age of one hundred and thirty three, and he would make it seem easy.
But Molly had to try. Hermione explained things faster and higher-pitched every time Molly messed up a pronoun. Molly frowned and muttered and put extra potatoes on Harry's plate at breakfast. Harry slept in Ron's room, which didn't bother either of them but which made Hermione scowl.
Harry got boxes of sweets and warm hugs, as Molly chewed things over. For her fifteenth Christmas, the Weasley sweater she would receive would be a bright, friendly, terrible pink.
The next time Harry visited, Molly put her on Ginny's floor to sleep-- for some definition of sleep that involved Hermione hissing threats at three in the morning if Harry and Ginny didn't "shut up about Wronski feints, do you know what time it is."
My note: This story is actually a re-imagining of her whole book story. Her name is considered at one point, but she decides to keep using Harry because she feels it fits her. It also includes references to other trans and gender fluid characters.
Draco Malfoy
The Only True Goal of the Universe - Features Harry/Draco and background Hermione/Ron, Seamus/Dean. 22,753 words. Rated E.
It comes up, as most juvenile things do, in a game of Truth or Dare.
Shenanigans - Features Harry/Draco and background Hermione/Ron. 4823 words. Rated E.
Of course Draco’s orgasm hits him right as Potter does the one thing he’s not supposed to do. Of fucking course.
Or, the blood curse lingering over the Malfoys has landed on Draco, and he’s doomed to get knocked up by the first cock that gets inside his cunt. Just his luck that cock ends up being Harry Potter’s.
Hand-in-Hand and Handkerchief - Features Draco/Astoria. 3008 words. Rated G
Draco Malfoy is not generally sympathetic to the sight of tears, but when he stumbles upon a second year Slytherin sniffling in the rose garden during the Yule Ball, for once he manages not to be a complete arse. Astoria is just glad that he had a handkerchief in his pocket because she forgot hers.
My Note: This includes three trans characters, including a happy adult example. It also has mention of a really cool magical potion idea for transition that the author has provided a free-for-use explanation of here.
Sirius Black
Discards - Features Remus/Sirius, James/Lily. 76,032 words. Rated M. Modern non-magical AU.
When 21-year-old assistant librarian Sirius spots a cute hipster college student at the Seattle Public Library, he just needs to figure out a subtle way of determining whether he's into guys. But Remus's life is more complicated than Sirius knows.
My note:  Tons of diversity within this cast with no white main characters and many different sexualities mentioned. Also sex positive with great commentary about homelessness, HIV, sex work, classism, and more. 
Live Like We’re Renegates - Remus/Sirius and background Lily/James. 24,378 words. Rated E.
Exuberant, proud, genderfluid, cheerleader, self-described narcissist. All things to describe Sirius Black. It's a stark contrast from the self-imposed loner, Journalist, and Gender Studies major Remus Lupin who is thrown into Sirius' world after accepting a project for a class. When the two worlds collide, both lives are changed for the better.
Sirius leant forward a bit, meeting Remus’ eyes. “Are you asking if I go for cute boys in beanies and jumpers, Remus Lupin?”
Remus’ face went hot. “Er. No. I mean…er…”
Sirius laughed. “Find your chill, love. I’m joking.” He winked at Remus and sat back again.
My note: Sirius is genderfluid and uses He/Him pronouns. Remus is deaf with a cochlear implant.
Lay Your Hands on Me -Features Remus/Sirius and background Lily/James. 8947 words. Rated E.
In which Sirius really likes trying out new hairstyles over the years and Remus really can't concentrate on much else, to be honest. This fic features reckless and impulsive teenage boys, classic Marauders-style banter, a low-key overdramatic Remus, and falling in love with close friends.
Or, alternatively: Three times Remus really wanted to touch Sirius' hair and one time he actually did.
Remus Lupin
TransFigured (and continued series) - Features Remus/Sirius. 57,170. Rated E.
“We thought you might be a werewolf," said Sirius. "What?" Remus almost laughed at the absurdity. "Last year. James and I thought — but the dates didn’t quite match up. With the full moons, I mean." "Well, I’m not." "I know. All I meant was, we thought you might be, and we still wanted to be friends. Whatever you’re not telling us — how much worse can it be?"
All Hail the Outlaws - Features Remus/Sirius and background Lily/James, Peter/Dorcas. 29,330 words. Rated E.
One of Remus Lupin's three jobs happens to be working maintenance for their flat building. He gets to meet all sorts, most of whom he would rather have nothing to do with. Until James Potter and Sirius Black move in across the hall. Engineering students and self-proclaimed geniuses, the pair set out to make their neighbours new best friends, and everyone's life is turned upside down, but in the best way possible.
My note: Sirius is blind, and the fic spends a lot of focus on each man’s experiences with bigotry and learning how to best be there for each other.
Succession of Halos - Features Remus/Sirius and background Lily/James. 7340 words. Rated E
When Remus gets talked into seeing his favourite author--Astronomy Professor S. Black--hold a stargazing lecture, he anticipates a stodgy old man in tweed. He does not expect the ripped jeans and rolling-stones t-shirt wearing, motor-bike riding Sirius Black with his wicked smile and passion for the stars. Remus is sure there's no chance between them, but little does he know, Sirius has a passion for many things in life, one of which being Remus Lupin.
My note: I have this listed under Remus, but Sirius is also genderfluid. Baby Harry is featured in the story, and is blind.
Child Characters
‘Twas Brillig - Features Harry/Draco with failed Harry/Ginny. 73,998 words. Rated E.
Harry reads a chapter of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland to his children before bed every night and through the story, he and his middle child find an ally in each other as they, along with Alice, discover a world that just doesn't seem to make sense when taken at face value. The more aware Harry becomes - embracing his child's reality - the more motivated he is to build a wizarding world that is fully inclusive, and by processing these life lessons finds he's able to connect with another person in ways that have always eluded him.
My Note: There are two trans characters in this story, one being Al (who begins using Alice with Al still as a nickname) and another being an adult I’ll leave unnamed because it comes up organically. This story is as much if not more so about Harry’s sexuality, and there is also strong representation of drag and crossdressing from a cis male character.
Miscellaneous
When The Letter Comes by Sara Fox - A published short story that seems definitely inspired by Harry Potter but also by other fantasy works.
Henry believes that someday, something awesome will happen–everything will turn out all right and all her problems will disappear once her letter arrives, welcoming her to magic school. So even though puberty is already here with changes (like her voice deepening and hair growing in places she does not want), she also knows it’s only a matter of time. After all, hundreds of books have said so.
But when the letter finally comes on Henry’s thirteenth birthday, it is not addressed to her, but to her sister.
When The Letter Comes is a short story with a YA trans protagonist that embraces the experience of those left behind, who must find their own way in the world–magic or not.
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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago
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The Reluctants | Chapter 10 | The Reluctant Detective
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Pairing: Adam (OLLA) x OFC (Charlie Bock)
Summary:  Charlie can’t believe her luck when she lands an apartment all to herself in Quincy, Massachusetts in a decaying triple decker. But life gets more complicated when someone moves into the basement. Specifically her landlord, Adam, who also happens to be a vampire. As life collapses around Charlie, these two forge an uneasy and unlikely relationship. But is their relationship as doomed as the building they live in?
Chapter:   Adam finds out the truth of Charlie’s whereabouts as well as Jason’s nature and is pissed.
Warnings: Violence, Smut, Frottage, Dry Humping, Teasing, Coming In Pants, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex. Couch Sex. Kidnapping. Stalking. Non-Graphic Violence, Character Death
-
Adam groaned and stretched in bed early that evening. Charlie’s side was cold, and the sheets tucked up. His brow furrowed until he spied the note on his nightstand.
“Ridiculous.” he clicked his tongue at Charlie, slipping out without waking him. He remained in bed, hoping she would soon return and slip under the sheets to curl next to him before heading to the living room.
But Charlie didn’t show when she usually did. Or two hours later. At first Adam figured she was caught up at the record store, but at three hours Adam worried enough to call Simmons’ personal cell phone. No easy feat as Adam needed to dig out his landline from under a table and crumpled pieces of paper and dust.
“Hello?” Simmons answered with his distinct, gravelly voice.
“It’s Mr. Streiff.”
“Oh, already calling with an offer to buy the Gibson? Charlie is a better salesperson than she lets on.”
Adam’s brows knitted. “What Gibson? I’m calling to check on Charlie, who is working late with you.” His tone firm, bordering on accusatory.
“She left hours ago. With a 1905 Gibson she insisted to take to show you.” Simmons responded worried, although Adam couldn’t tell if it was over the guitar or Charlie. His fist balled tightly at his side.
“What?! Where did she you go?” Adam paced the floor as silence hung in the air while Simmons contemplated his response.
“I didn’t see.” Simmons snapped his fingers. “Wait! I wondered if her cousin came and got her.”
“What cousin?”
Adam shoved on his boots while pulling on a shirt. Charlie said nothing about a cousin. And given what she said about her parents, he doubted the existence of any cousin.
“The one who came by the other day asking for her schedule.”
“And you gave it to him?!” Adam’s voice rising to a yell.
“He said the family came to surprise her. It sounded nice.”
Adam rolled his eyes and cursed. “Fuck! What did he say? Did he give a name?”
“He said his name was Jason. And—” Simmons’s next words met with a dial tone when Adam hung up.
He threw the phone against the wall, smashing it to bits.
“Fuck!” He kicked at the pieces of plastic on the floor before slumping onto the couch. He couldn’t decide whether to kill Simmons first or go out hunting for Charlie.
-
Charlie rolled her neck, popping the bones.
“Ah…” she sighed while taking a quick inventory of her body.
Her head still pounded and tender to the touch on the back, where she touched what seemed to be a goose egg. Her arms and hands were free, and she was wearing everything from when she left the record shop, save her overcoat. As Charlie sat up from the bed or couch or whatever she sat on, a chain clinked. Charlie glanced down to see her leg shackled to what Charlie now determined to be a couch. A shitty futon to exact.
Loud voices filtered from next door and Charlie moved to the edge of the couch, as far as the chain would let her.
“This was not part of the plan, Jason. Idiot!” A female yelled.
Something clattered to the floor on the other side of the door.
“Why are you the one calling the shots!?
Charlie recognized Jason’s sniveling tone.
“I’m the one taking all the risks! You wanted Adam, she will get us him!”
“That doesn’t mean kidnap her! Do you realize how pissed he will be?!”
“What do you suggest? Let her go? Absolutely not! She’s mine.”
“I don’t know what I wanted, but this is not it.” The floor shook as Ava stomped and pouted. “I’m hungry.”
“There’s some blood in the fridge.”
The door creaked open and Charlie scrambled away. Ava popped into the room.
“Oh, you.” her voice dripped with disdain. “You’re awake.”
“How in the hell did you and Jason…” Charlie’s voice wavered, still coming to grips with her situation.
Ava smiled, her fangs peeking out from behind her lips. “Your little stalker boyfriend?”
“Not my boyfriend.”
“No, but he is your stalker.” Ava smirked. “I met him outside when Adam threw me out. So rude.” Her bottom lip popped out into a pout.
“He will be so pissed when he gets here.”
“I realize that!” Ava stomped her foot and then stormed away as Jason came in.
He sat down right next to Charlie. His cast rough against her skin. Jason lifted his good hand to run the back of his finger along Charlie’s cheek. She jerked back at the intrusion.
“Get used to me, sweetheart.” Jason’s face twisted into a sick smile.
-
Adam spent the better part of an hour grilling Simmons on every nuance of his conversation with Jason and the events of that night. Frustrated and angry, he slammed his hand repeatedly against the steering wheel of his Jaguar. It hurt like hell.
As soon as he got back home, he went to Charlie’s apartment and ransacked her living room and bedroom. Clothes and paper flew in the air without regard until he located Charlie’s neglected planner. With a deft finger, he flipped the pages until he found what he wanted. He ripped the page out and then shoved clothes and debris from his fit to find the phone.
“Charlie?” Elise answered in a groggy voice.
“Who the fuck is Jason?”
“Who the hell is this?” Elise’s voice turned shrill.
“It’s Adam, I’m her…” He hesitated. How much did Charlie tell her friends? He quickly replaced the thought with panic and fear as to what may happen to Charlie. “… boyfriend.”
Elise sat up in bed. “Oh, pleasure. Did Jason show up? I told Charlie to be careful.”
Adam would have to wait until Charlie came home safe and sound to discuss hiding important information from each other.
“Tell me everything about him.”
-
Twenty minutes later, Adam hung with Elise with enough information about Jason to recognize breaking his arm last month was a gift. He should have broken his neck. Nothing that would pop up on a standard background check, but red flags nevertheless. He sounded like a serial killer in the making. Adam ripped the phone out of the wall and walked downstairs to fish out his own address book. He prayed the number still work as he punched in the number.
“Hello?” the male voice answered.
“Frank, I need a favor.”
“Adam. You know that’s not my name, right?”
“I’m not calling you Francois Eugène Vidocq.”
The man chuckled. “It is a mouthful. It’s been at half a century since we talked. How’s Eve?”
“Dead.” Adam winced.
“I’m sorr—”
Adam cut him off. “I don’t need your apologies. Do you still have access to the Registry of Motor Vehicles?”
“Massachusetts? Well, yeah, if you call hacking into their database access.”
“I need you to get my an address for a Jason Fuller and a Nicole McDonald?”
“Got anything else? Dates of birth?”
“No.”
Frank sighed on the other end of the line. “Give me a bit, I will call you back.” The line clicked dead.
Adam paced the floor. His hand ran through his wild hair. He hated this. He hated his mind racing to all the possibilities of the horrible things happening to Charlie. A thought entered his mind. He walked into the spare bedroom, digging through a box. And then another, and a third.
“She’s fucking right, Eve. I should let her clean and organize down here.” He rummaged through yet another box before pulling out a tattered shoebox. “Apologies, baby, for what I may have to do. But I love her.”
An hour later, the phone rang.
“Took you long enough.” Adam snapped back. He threw a black leather jacket on top of his usual rock n roll attire, combat boots and everything.
“You didn’t say anything about a rush.”
“The urgency was implied, Frank. Did you get the addresses or not?”
“I got what you want.” Frank rattled off two addresses, Jason’s in Cambridge and Nicole’s in Revere. “You never told me why you are looking for this guy.”
“He took something very dear to me.”
“A guitar?”
“A girl.”
-
Charlie soon discovered Jason and Ava didn’t have a fucking clue what they were doing. Two things became clear to Charlie: Jason wanted to keep Charlie for himself, and Ava was always hungry. She had no idea how long she had been here or if Adam realized she’d gone missing. If she wasn’t so terrified, Charlie would have been laughing at this Keystone Cops kidnapping of hers.
Ava and Jason bickered in the corner.
“Hmmm.” Charlie cleared her throat. Two heads snapped over to glare at her. “I’m wondering,” She crossed her legs at the ankles, chain clinking along the floor. “which of you is going to let Adam know you have me?”
Ava’s face pinched up. “I beg your pardon?”
Charlie’s lips twitched into a smile. “Well the whole point of this is to get Adam’s attention, am I correct? It’s hard to do that if he DOESN’T HAVE A FUCKING CLUE, I’M HERE!” she screamed.
Jason stomped over to Charlie and hit her with his open hand. The left side of her face exploded in pain.
“DON’T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” Jason screamed back. His nostrils flared and spittle flew out of his mouth. Charlie cried out of exhaustion and pain more than anything. Jason’s expression softened. He sat next to her.
“Sweetheart.” He cooed, reaching up to soothe the already bruising mark on Charlie’s cheek. “You know better than to get me upset. I lose control when I get upset. You might end up hurt.”
Charlie gulped. “Sorry.”
Jason stood up and kissed the top of her head. “Now let’s go get some ice from that bruise.” He walked off to the kitchen.
Ava’s gaze darted between the kitchen and Charlie. “Fine, I’ll make the phone call.”
Adam never got that message because he was long gone.
-
Jason’s Cambridge apartment was empty, but that didn’t stop Adam from ransacking the place. In particular, he shredded to bits a few photos of Charlie pinned onto a corkboard.
“Fuck!” he cursed as he caught the time after kicking in Jason’s TV. There wasn’t enough nighttime left to make it to Revere. “Hang on just one more day, my love.”
-
Charlie iced her cheek with the frozen bag of peas Jason tossed to her. Her stomach gurgled.
“Could I get something to eat?” Charlie’s voice soft and wavering.
“I’m hungry too.” Ava whined.
Jason rolled his eyes. “Women.” He grabbed his keys. “Feed on her if you’re hungry.”
“Do I look like I have a death wish? I want to talk to Adam, not be killed by him. Bring something to eat.”
“Fine!” Jason slammed the door.
He returned several hours later, a greasy bag of fast food tucked under his cast and a drunk girl holding his other hand.
Charlie’s nose scrunched at the aroma of burger and fries. Jason pushed the girl towards Ava.
“Eat up, both of you.” he sneered.
“I’m trying to watch my cholesterol.” Charlie piped up.
“Did you ask her if she is clean?” Ava complained.
“If you don’t like what I brought you, then you can STARVE!!” He slammed to the door to the other room.
Ava shrugged her shoulders and dragged the girl into the kitchen. Charlie snacked on the fries while ignoring the greasy cheeseburger. Tears rolled down her face.
“I miss you, Adam. Please find me.” she whispered as she pulled the thin afghan over her body and laid down on the sofa, which she just noticed smelled of beer.
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cyberdva · 5 years ago
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Lost Grieving- Richie Tozier X Reader {Chapter 1☆}
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☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ 
Summary- The reader gets stuck in strange implications and finds herself in Derry, Maine, the location of the infamous Steven King book ‘IT’. Unknowingly she stumbles across the Neibolt House, the dirty and burnt remains of a tragic fire. She remembers what horrors had happened and is hesitant to stay. What will happen when she runs into the one and only Losers Club? What will they do if the strange new girl claiming to be from another universe, tells them they’re all made up characters from a book? Will she help them ‘defeat’ the morbid Pennywise or give up and be lost in perishable hell forever, filled with lost grieving. Proceed with caution when you drive into this tale of horror, humor, and a handful of twisted romance with Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier.
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ 
Main Masterlist 
IT Masterlist
Prologue
Chapter 1 (+)
Chapter 2
Word Count: 2k
Date Uploaded: 10/17/19
A/N: The first chapter got so much love, so I knew I had to write the next chapter ASAP!! Thank you guys so much!! Also the long italicised paragraphs is an excerpt from the book to put into perspective the problem from a background source, kind of like an example basically. 
Warnings: Cursing
 ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆
“Excuse me?” the small boy peered up at me, he picked up what seemed to be an inhaler. He didn’t have his signature cast yet, I was here before most of the catastrophe. How should I approach him, there’s no way I’m telling him directly, he wouldn’t believe me. What the hell should I tell him then? He stared at me like I was crazy, taking a step back for good measure. I mean I don’t blame him, I look like I’ve been rolling in the dirt. I panicked, it was going to happen one way or another.
 “Uh, I think I’m lost.” It was a simple explanation, he kept looking at me, like I had five heads. 
He gave me a swift look of disgust, probably since I was covered in dirt. “I’m sorry my mom told me not to talk to strangers.” Shit. He was the germaphobe, eternally clung to his mother’s side, until she dies at sixty-six. 
“I’m sorry, I need to get home.” He brushed past me and jumped at the sudden contact, his pills flooded out from his fanny pack and piled onto the ground. Some rolled forwards while most of them flew in different directions. An abundance of different pill bottles fell next, the short boy looked at the now germ infested medicine in horror. 
I didn’t know what to do,”Do you want my help or would you prefer me not to touch?” He dropped to the ground and sorted pills by color and stuffing them back into the right tube.
“How do I know that you’re not some psychopath that could kill me?”
“Um, I don’t know.”
“Fair point, just grab the red ones. Be careful my mom will flip of she figures out what just happened.”
Ah, Mrs.Kaspbrak, a woman that completely overprotects her child to the point of isolation and creates illnesses just to keep him ‘safe.’ I thought of the book, how it showed his mom slowly incasing his youth in a small orange pill bottle.
-
Eddie gasped. He could see a foot floating inside a shole filled with green smoke. The bones in his foot! He crossed his great big toe over his second toe and the eldritch bones in the scope made an X that was not white, but goblin-green. He could see-
His mother shrieked, a rising sound of panic cut through the quiet shoe store like a runaway reaper-blade, like a firebell, like doom on horseback. He jerked his startled, dismayed face out of the viewer and saw her pelting towards him across the store in her stocking feet, her dress flying out behind her. She knocked a chair over and one of those shoe-measuring things that always tickled his feet went flying. Here bosom heaved. Her mouth was a scarlet O of horror. Faces turned to follow her progress.
“Eddie get off there!” she screamed. “Get off there!” Those machines give you cancer! Get off there! Eddie! Eddieee-!” 
-
I remember that chapter, I felt so bad for Eddie and yet I’m here ‘talking’ to him. Reality keeps straying quicker and quicker away from me. Next thing you know I’ll be fooling around with the damn Losers Club. As fun as that seems I had ongoing worry, is my mom ok? Will I be ok? Am I in a coma?
I couldn’t stop thinking about my fate, could I be dying. Is this the last moment I’ll spend until my time is up. In Derry, Maine! The ‘shittiest place on earth.’ After all these murders and that clown rampaging in the sewers I see why the town was coined the title.
Most importantly to the subject, why does Eddie have so many pills? We began to pick each up out of the sorting it didn’t take long to pick them all up. No eye contact was made, my chances were dialing, if anyone could help me with this phenomena it would be the clown-fighting teens.
Eddie looked around, “I’m missing one.” How the hell does he know that. Lurking silence was downed upon us as we glanced around a grim voice cut in.
“Do you think this will help me, Eddie?”
 We whipped our heads above us, a creature will drool castading out from its mouth crouched holding the last red pill. Its hair was knotted, ratty. Lumps and sores were plucked all over its thin and lanky body. There was no nose, horrible retching sounds came out of it as it inhaled and exhaled. Ripped cloth adorned the body, bandages came as a pair. A huge pile of them were attached to its left ‘foot.’ A moan escaped his mouth area, Eddie groaned. The two of us scattered as we ran from the monster. I remembered this from the newer movie and book, IT is here, he found us. How can I even see it, only people affected by….. Shit. The monster got up and limped towards us, we were cornered. I was racked with fear, tears filled my eyes and my vision was inconceivable. It screamed and retched as we ran towards the dirty Neibolt house. The makeshift cast banged against the ground with such force and rhythm, he was on our tails. 
 Eddie made sure to check back to see if he was dreaming or not, his nerves got the best of him and he kept tripping. A few tears escaped my eyes, I couldn’t be scared isn’t that what the clown wants? I know I couldn’t die from this, but if I see IT what will stop me from just that. We reached a fence, the screaming stopped, as did the banging. I glanced behind me. This can’t be real.
 Above all the grass and weeds was what you could only read about, what you could only dream about, something that you should never see in real life. It should’ve been a fictional character, in a book, but there it was, right in front of me. That’s when I realized I can’t go back, how can I wake up from this, it’s real. It has to be.
                              Pennywise the Dancing Clown.
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 Rows of red, rubbery balloons covered his face. His white clown outfit hung in ruffles with three red pom-poms. The balloons went above his head, disappearing into oblivion. A crooked smile was slapped across his face. ‘Just Kill me now.’ I thought. It was him, down to the makeup and hair. Eddie was petrified. 
“Where ya going Eds?” His voice made a shiver go up my spine.                                         “Shouldn’t you be home by now?”
The clown looked over to me, “And you, Y/N. You can’t go home, can you?” He giggled. What does he mean, why can’t I go home. I want to be in bed, waiting for that last day of school.
“Come join the clown Eds.” Eddie looked at me. “You’ll float down here.” IT shrugged his shoulders.
“We all float down here. Yes we do!”
A shrill laugh came out of its mouth, why did this have to happen to me! Eddie screamed and I followed him as we ran through a fence parting. His breaths were choppy, the boy fell once more and the sound of a balloon popping was all that was left.
He glanced back at me, “Please tell me you saw that too.”
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eldritchsurveys · 4 years ago
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1056.
5k Survey LXXVIII
4001. How would you rate your sex drive? >> I wouldn’t “rate” it? I don’t keep tabs on it or anything, it comes and goes at will. 4002. You are sitting alone with a stack of videos and a vcr. Of the following which are you most likely to puut on (1 is most, 10 is least) The good the bad and the ugly, - 5 dracula, - 2 slc punk, - 6 twin peaks fire walk with me, - 1 jerry springer too hot for tv, - definitely not in the running singing in the rain, - 7 flash gordon, - not in the running the matrix, - 4 blade runner, - 3 the muppet movie - not in the running 4003. Are you more likely to get or send random instant messages? >> Neither? 4004. If you were writing an ad telling people to come to your town what would you say about it? >> You lost me at “if you were writing an ad”. 4005. What part of your body can you not stand to get an itch on? >> Any part I can’t easily scratch, of course.
4006. How many people do you suppose have stolen that System of a Down album called 'steal this album'? >> I don’t know. 4007. Name a band you like: What are/were this band's roots and influences? >> I don’t know the roots and influences of bands. 4008. would you rather have a poster of john lennon or a cute fuzzy black cat? >> I’m not interested in either of these posters. I’d rather have a bare wall. 4009. make a public service announcement: >> No. 4010. What makes you feel the need to escape? >> My own brain. 4011. You and your signifigant other, crush, interest etc...who is the ernie and who is the bert? >> --- 4012. When was the last time you did something and later asked yourself 'did I do the right thing?'? >> I don’t remember. 4013. What do you find it hard to say goodbye to? >> Er... 4014. What is your fantasy valentine's day like? >> I don’t have a fantasy for Valentine’s Day. 4015. If you had to have a color for a name, what color would it be? >> --- 4016. Should preference be given to minority students during the college admission process? >> You know, I’ve read a lot of arguments for and against affirmative action over the years, and while I see where multiple sides are coming from, I think that the most important thing to me would be people of all backgrounds being given opportunity. And since this country has proven time and time again that when left to its own devices, it will let systems of privilege and oppression stand without contest, there needs to be a check-and-balance system in place. Which, in this case, would be affirmative action. It’s awkward and has its own ramifications, but it provides opportunity where there was none (or hardly any) before, and I think it opens the door for further discussions and adaptations.
4017. Sweet wine, fresh crisp appples, bagles with creme cheese and lox...what is the most incredibly luxurious food? >> I’m not sure. 4018. Is there really anything to fear in communism? >> ???? 4019. Best sesame street character: most annoying sesame street character: >> --- 4020. feast or famine? >> Wh... I mean, which one do you think I’d choose??? 4021. Write a poem right here in five minutes or less: >> No. 4022. Do you stay and help clean up after a party? >> At someone else’s place? No. 4023. Why was the teddy bear named after teddy roosevelt? >> As far as I’m aware, it’s because some guy saw the bears at a World’s Fair or something and bought a bunch of them to use as promotions for Roosevelt’s campaign. If I’m wrong, there’s always your friendly neighbourhood search engine to clear it up for you. 4024. What are you the prince or princess of? >> I am the Red Prince, inheritor of the Tower and doom of the White! Thank you for asking. 4025. Some people think that Christmas should be taken off of public school calanders because it is politically incorrect. What aould you say to this? >> I don’t know what that means, so I would have to ask for clarification about Christmas’ political incorrectness. Personally, I think more holidays should be added, for students of different cultures and religions, and some of the “American civic religion” type holidays like Presidents’ Day and shit should probably be removed. That’d balance it out. 4026. Would you rather go to an exorcism or a step aerobics class? >> First of all, those are completely different events, so it’d depend on what kind of experience I was looking to have. And whether I felt like exercising. Which I usually do not. 4027. Do you believe in spells and curses? >> Do I think that spells and curses work? Sure, somehow. I mean, people do them for a reason... 4028. What tv show does your family watch together? >> --- 4029. What's on your calander this year? >> Dates? 4030. Is anything ruining your life? What? >> No. 4031. How was life meant to be lived? >> --- 4032. What is your usual breakfast? >> A Morningstar veggie burger and chips. 4033. If you had kids, would you worry about what they did online? >> Of course I’d worry. 4034. Will you be maxin and relaxin this weekend? If not, what are your weekend plans? >> It’s Monday, man, I have no idea what’s going to happen next weekend aside from the usual. 4035. Who has the most interesting story to tell: someone who used to fly to asia as a drug trader the ceo of Nike a nyc homeless person a preacher's wife >> I was a homeless person in NYC and I think my stories are plenty interesting. Regardless, I think most (if not all) people have interesting stories to tell, if one is willing to listen. 4036. What do you have a bad feeling about? >> I am not having a bad feeling at this very moment so I would like to keep it that way. 4037. Do you have a lot to say? >> I don’t know. Do I? 4038. If a smallpox vaccine was offered to you, would you take it? >> ??? Don’t we get those as children? I’m confused. 4039. Would you ever work at a kissing booth? how about a dunking booth? >> No. 4040. There is a woman who paints by stripping naked, rolling around in paint and then pressing her body against the canvas. What do you think of her art? >> That’s pretty neat. 4041. Have you ever bought something you saw on tv? >> Like, on an infomercial? No. 4042. Name a relative: that relative dies unexpectedly. On the same day 9/11 happens. You can either bring back your relative or bring back 1/2 the people who dies on 9/11. What do you do? >> --- 4043. Have you gone mental? >> Frequently. 4044. What do you think of jews for jesus? >> I’m not sure what to think, since according to some reports they’re not even Jews, but Christians masquerading as such in order to convert Jews (or undermine the “official” Jewish stance on Christ being a cool dude but not the Messiah). Which is pretty messed up, in my opinion. But if a Jewish person interprets their holy texts in such a way that they wish to adopt Christ as the Messiah, then I’d imagine that’s their business. 4045. Has anyone ever tried to 'save' you? >> Evangelical Christian style? Yeah, plenty of times. Fortunately, I seem to be immune to that particular sort of manipulation. 4046. Quick! picture santa clause in your head... Was he black or white when you pictured him? >> White. All Santa is good Santa and of course as a Black person I’m definitely interested in Black Santa, but almost all of my visual references up until now have been white. 4047. Would you ever buy a black santa clause? >> I mean, duh??? Also, we have a Black angel for our Christmas tree; they’d go together perfectly. 4048. or take your kids to vist a black santa clause? why or why not? >> --- 4049. What do you smell like? >> Right now, I smell like jojoba and lavender and opium oil (and tea tree oil, on my head) because I just showered and moisturised. It’s very nice. 4050. What kind of soup do you eat? >> I don’t usually go for soup. But last night I had chicken and wild rice soup because Sparrow made it for her meal prep this week, and it was pretty damn good.
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sineala · 7 years ago
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Hey! Warning: I don't know a lot about marvel comics ( i'm trying to remedy that). Why is the newest IM run met with bitterness/dismay by fandom? Is it because of the writer?
Ha. Ha. Um. Okay. It’s salt night tonight, I guess. You know, I was writing fic, but, sure, it can be salt night. Let me just put this under a Read More. 
Honestly, I haven’t read a whole lot of Slott’s work. I know he’s written Spider-Man for what feels like an entire century and I feel like the Spidey fans I know don’t reflexively curse his name? So maybe that’s encouraging. He did, however, write the Great Lakes Avengers miniseries, which is the worst comic I think I have ever spent money on. It was just non-stop bulimia jokes. Our senses of humor clearly do not align. So based on that I am not feeling especially great, but that’s just a me thing.
But more generally – the thing about being a certain kind of comics fan who likes Tony Stark is that it is really, really hard to find comics these days about the Tony Stark that you like. A prevailing opinion in fandom, and one that I mostly share  (with the proviso that I really liked IM: Fatal Frontier, which was relatively recent), is that there hasn’t been a good Iron Man run since Iron Man: Director of SHIELD. That’s Iron Man, volume 4. That ended TEN YEARS AGO.
So you might now think to yourself, “Hey, the MCU started ten years ago! I wonder if that’s significant!” And the answer is, yes, yes, it really is. Because what they’ve done since then is consciously try to pull Tony’s characterization toward the MCU. And I can’t blame Marvel for wanting to do this, because MCU is where the money is and we all know that RDJ as Tony is amazing and he brought a whole new life to the character. But the thing is, for me, he’s playing his own Tony Stark. RDJ’s Tony Stark. Who is great but is not, in many important ways, the character I adore in the comics. But that’s what they’re making him into. They’ve upped the witty quips significantly, they’ve added or retconned large chunks of his background (the RT akin to the arc reactor, the fact that he is maybe now not a college graduate), they’ve taken away a lot of the whole Good Businessman thing that’s been there, they’ve taken away most of his friends, they added in a relationship with Pepper that I don’t even want to talk about, and so on. And they’re explicit that this is what they’re doing. In recent IM editorial columns, they talked about their admiration for RDJ’s portrayal and their desire to bring that to the comics.
And the thing about Tony having been catapulted into prominence by the MCU is that suddenly he’s big now, and he was never big before. He didn’t have a lot of fans, and that includes among the writing staff. The people who are well-known in fandom for having done good IM runs – Layton & Michelinie, O’Neil, Busiek, the Knaufs – are generally not (Busiek excepted, I guess) the absolute superstars of comics writing, as I understand it (although I may be wrong; I am not very widely-read); they liked Tony, as far as I know, and they wrote what they liked because they liked the character, so we got good runs from people who genuinely enjoyed writing Tony. But now that Tony is popular, Marvel wants to put their A-list writers on the book, and it seems like for the most part these big-name writers are not actually that happy about writing Tony. It’s not like Steve, where you can find people who imprinted on Gruenwald’s Cap run or what have you and are overjoyed to write Cap because they get Cap and they understand Cap and it would be an honor. I feel like with IM these days you’re really lucky if they’ve ever done the reading.
Since the start of the MCU there have been four IM runs: Fraction, Gillen, Taylor, and Bendis. I am honestly not sure I know anyone who was already a Tony fan who likes Fraction’s run; I finally dragged myself through it a couple months ago and the most charitable thing I can say is that it is an interesting comic (with more non-consensual humiliation than I personally prefer) about someone who happens to be named Tony Stark who is definitely not the guy I know from the comics I love. I haven’t read most of Gillen’s run and I don’t know a lot of people who have, so I think you can tell how well that was received in fandom. Tom Taylor, though, seemed like a guy who was genuinely excited to be writing Iron Man and you could tell that he had done the reading because he was name-dropping wacky 70s issues that I had a lot of fun finding and reading (like the one where Tony goes to SDCC) – but unfortunately the run Marvel put him on was Superior Iron Man. If you read interviews with him he sounds like he would have definitely preferred to be writing non-evil Tony. And then there’s Bendis. I’m not really sure what happened there. I had such high hopes. I feel like he used to be good at writing Tony, and certainly he gave us a bunch of great Tony without which Steve/Tony would not exist (see: The Confession), and I feel like if he’d been the one writing IM ten years ago it could have been spectacular. But I also feel like when the majority of his run features Riri Williams and Victor von Doom and no Tony anywhere, this guy maybe does not want to write Tony anymore. I think that wanting an Iron Man comic to contain Tony Stark is a reasonable minimum standard. (Note that he doesn’t have to be Iron Man to make me happy -- one of my absolute favorite runs has Rhodey as Iron Man -- but I think that an IM comic where Tony is alive and present shouldn’t be too much to ask for.)
So I feel like, given that Dan Slott is in interviews already talking about how his pitch for the new IM was “Okay, it’s Robert Downey Jr. starring sometimes in Black Mirror and sometimes in Rick and Morty,” that this is already not going to be the Tony I want to read about because my ideal IM run is probably not going to come from the pen of someone who is already saying that they’re going to write 616 Tony as RDJ. I mean, MCU is great! But if I want to see MCU Tony, I can watch the movies! I want to read about 616 Tony, who is not the same as the guy in the movies! I want a run like that, and I’m clearly not getting it.
On the plus side, the art is by Valerio Schiti, so whatever the writing is like, the art’s gonna be fuckin’ pretty. I guess we will have that to console ourselves with.
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carrowe · 7 years ago
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AMYCUS CARROW is A DEATH EATER in the war, even though HIS official job is as A CURSE BREAKER & HIT MAN. the TWENTY SIX year old PUREBLOOD is known to be PATIENT and RESERVED but also VIOLENT and TWO FACED. some might label them as THE DEVIL IN DISGUISE. fc: ryan gosling 
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        hey it’s lizzie back at it with being a fucking idiot ( aka i can’t write good, wholesome characters that are not james to save my life so even though i love mae... she gotta go :/ i’m sorry!!! ). so bringing back my favorite sociopath but... revamped 2 be darker because was inspired ♥ !!
ANTHEMS:
rail road track - willy moon // blood on my name - the brothers bright // shakin - willy moon // dogs of war - blues saraceno // feel it still - portugal the man.
full playlist: (x) pinterest boards: v1. v2.
BACKGROUND / FAMILY ( bound to change probably ):
Amycus Abigor Carrow is the first born child of the Carrow dynasty. His father named him after the prince of hell, in the hopes that his son would prove himself worthy of the name. Amycus would, but not in the way his father had hoped.
As a child, Amycus was very quiet. Mostly kept to himself and his sister. Never harmed a fly. 
Amycus was the product of a loveless marriage, based on pureblood politics. His parents couldn’t stand each other, and were each other’s polar opposites. Amycus would later realize that they were doomed from the start.
child abuse tw:// Amycus’ father was a cold business man, and was not very interested in being a father to Amycus. He mostly made excuses to be as far away from the family life as possible. 
So Amycus was left to his grandfather, a man that put great emphasis on pain ( believing it was the only way that Amycus would learn and become stronger ). Lessons were drilled in with corporal punishment, and the emotional and physical abuse he suffered at the hands of his father would eventually break him down into something colder and darker. Feelings were deemed weak, and had to be firmly repressed - which would leave behind a shell of a boy. 
Gained a definite rebellious streak during his teenage years, and would do EVERYTHING and anything to fuck with his dad.
Eventually moved out, at the age of 15. Figured either he’d move out or kill his father, and settled on the former.
Remaining summers were spent living at the Hog’s Head Inn.
The Carrow family did not want to air their dirty laundry to the world, so they never formally denounced Amycus. Most other pureblood families know that they had a falling out though.
Alecto is his other half, and they come as a matching set. Without her, he feels incomplete, and she’s also the only person who truly knows him. 
MAIN CHANGES FROM THE PREVIOUS AMYCUS’ TIMELINE:
Main thing probably is that he is more refined. More dangerous. Still pretty fucking dumb, but less rough around the edges. Also has more self control which is good for him!!!
Still a brickwall in terms of sharing (always so private), but way more polite? More controlled, less crude. Instead of just grunting in reply, homeboy might try to actually act like a human being. So definitively less gruff.
Also can’t just typecast him as ‘ hm this is probably a pretty bad dude ‘ when first meeting him anymore so that's kinda problematic :/ May cause some issues :/
AESTHETIC / VIBES:
old gramophones, blood stained polaroids, broken glasses, bleeding fists, standing in silence for hours, chipped teeth, unwavering loyalty, unhealed scars, getting home at the crack of dawn, red wine, long showers, god complexes, the color of the sunset, messy hair, blood soaked suits, always cheating death, a rebel just for kicks, half smiles, just beating and beating until the world stops, no conscience, half empty wine bottles, impersonal offices, a face that doesn’t quite match his demeanor.
HOGWARTS YEARS:
Was a hat stall between Slytherin and surprisingly enough, Hufflepuff. But his sister was sorted into Slytherin, and Amycus won’t go anywhere without his twin.
With the Slytherins, he found a new home, far away from his grandfather.
I would say that he is not exactly book smart, and he got pretty shit grades while at the school. The one subject where he really excelled was charms, but he also did all right in transfigurations and herbology.
Is more muscle than brains, most of the time tbh.
At the age of fifteen, Amycus stopped going back to his family home. He was becoming strong enough (from years of fighting) to challenge his father, and decided to just drop all contact. Today, he only sees his dad at the occasional pureblood party / event, where he ignores him.
torture tw :// Violence breeds violence, and the pain and suffering he had endured at home soon translated into him torturing fellow students.
Did not spend a lot of time in detention, despite all the fighting? Was that prick who got away with a lot because of his angel face. Eventually, teachers caught on though and Amycus got into his fair share of trouble as well ( most definitively became viewed as a Disturbed Child™ ).
During his time at the school, he earned some extra cash from doing odd jobs ( which mostly entailed torturing specific students per request ).
His electives at the school were: alchemy, care of magical creatures and divination. He was in no clubs at the school.
AFTER HOGWARTS:
Became a curse breaker soon after graduating.
First few years were spent abroad, working in tombs for Gringotts, recovering lost artifacts and breaking ancient curses.
Eventually, he made his way back home, and found work for the ministry. He works at the office for the removal of curses, jinxes and hexes, which is a subdivision of the improper use of magic office.
Unfortunately for him, this means that he has to work with a lot of other divisions. He hates it.
His day job as a curse breaker is sort of a disguise for what he considers to be his real job? He’s sort of a gun ( wand ) for hire, and will kill anyone who needs to be killed, for a price. Though the money really doesn’t matter all that much to him? 
Most of his clients are members of the sacred 28, who always want SOMEONE dead.
Kind of just aligned himself with the Death Eaters because 1. they have a more violent agenda 2. his sister.
Amycus isn’t the most invested in the whole pureblood supremacy thing ( though he’d never admit that ), but overall likes Voldemort and what he stands for.
Definitively fears Voldemort, and is quite happy that he’s not directly reporting to him.
Amycus mainly works for the Death Eaters as an information gatherer, which basically is just a nicer way to say that he tortures people until they tell him whatever they know. He’s disturbingly good at it, and usually works together with his sister.
Currently living in a large townhouse in London, with Alecto.
AS A PERSON:
Doesn’t give a single fuck about anyone that isn’t himself or his sister.
NEUTRAL EVIL. 
Doesn’t even have a moral compass, just does whatever is best for him. Has no interest in your righteous bullshit.
Looks a lot nicer than he is, which works to his advantage most of the time? Like he just looks like a nerdy, good dude. Couldn’t be further from the truth but... that’s besides the point. His face really doesn’t match the way he behaves.
Probably the most private person you’ll ever meet? He seldom reveals anything about himself, and when he does, it’s usually not true.
100% petty enough to lie about the smallest, most meaningless details.
SO self disciplined. Always in complete control, and it’s very hard to get a genuine reaction / rise out of him. Also so so so patient, and is happy to wait for whatever his current end game is.
Drinks and smokes heavily, but doesn’t personally think that he has a problem.
Mostly just a dumb asshole.
SO COLD.
Thrives off violence and is a total brute tbh.
Pretty good at hiding his death eater ties since he's... paranoid as FUCK. And also very private. Always wears a mask. But some people probably suspect... stuff anyways, if they've like. Spent longer than two hours with him. Listen if Amycus wasn't such a fucking asshole he probably could get away with it (/scooby doo villain voice). But then again, others will probably think he's just cold as shit.
Is a total demon, but looks like an angel. Helps a lot !!!
STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE:
This version of Amycus wears glasses, but fucking breaks them ALL THE TIME. The only thing keeping them together is magic.
Wears mostly suits for work ( bc he has to :/ ) but will wear those long black robes on his free time. Think a vampire cape, flying in the wind. That’s right, he really is THAT guy.
Will also wear stupid band tshirts a lot when not working.
Keeps his hair short.
Like 70% of his money is probably spent on buying new suits / robes / t shirts because he keeps either getting blood on them, or having them ripped to shreds in a fight.
Looks like he’s wearing the exact same shoes everyday but actually has like... 100 different pairs.
Eyes appear either blue or grey depending on the lighting.
Has some tattoos, and a half sleeve on his right arm, going from his shoulder down to his elbow.
CHARACTER INFLUENCES:
caleb haas ( quantico )- the snark. the assholery. the background. the black sheep.
clay haas ( quantico ) - just the right amount of polished. the style. the general aesthetic. the hair.
angelus ( btvs )- the disregard for human life. the darkness. the occasional brooding. the quips.
holden ford ( mindhunter ) - the scheming. the hidden ambition. the slyness. the resolution.
lucifer morningstar ( lucifer ) - the smile, the general vibe, the quips, the mannerisms, the darkness.
eric northman ( southern vampire mysteries ) - the confidence. the general dumbness. the stubbornness.
demon dean winchester ( supernatural ) - the occasional charm. the being an actual demon-ness. the blood lust. the bad jokes. the weakness for a pretty face.
wolverine ( x men ) - the violence. the moodiness. the hatred. the occasional gruff demeanor.
dexter morgan ( dexter ) - the serial killer vibe. the lust for blood. the violence. the loyalty to his sister. the sociopathy.
takeshi kovac ( altered carbon ) - the violence. the fucked up moral compass. the buried anger. the instinct to fight.
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angelicfangirl · 7 years ago
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UNPOPULAR SWTOR OPINION TIME WOOOOO. Arcann reactions and things, feel free to ignore :P
Also wow this got long, uh, APOLOGIES TO THOSE ON MOBILE. There’s a reason my fic needs a beta ok I get sidetracked very easily. 
So I’ve been seeing a lot on my dash the last few days since the news broke where dataminers found code confirming the beginning of a romance with Arcann. 
AND ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE AND DEMONS. EVERYWHERE. SO TERRIFYING. THE WORLD IS ENDING. 
Nah actually it was just a bunch of people being either really bitter or really excited. 
I, obviously, am one of the more excited ones. I created Calli around this time last year to romance Arcann on a whim after I was introduced to actually thinking about his character and his background rather than just groaning and hating him every time he was on screen (seriously i HATED HIM SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA). So I’m really looking forward to her having her canon romance in game - even as I have little faith in Bioware doing a good job with the romance. The episodic format of their writing at the moment.... it leave a lot to be desired, and a lot of characters are falling by the wayside in the process.
Related note: Um maybe don’t be an extra rude piece of shit to people who are excited about this. I of course would really love to see some of the old comps back first but you know what? I’d rather have an Arcann romance than nothing. I’d rather something involving a comp that could have been killed off rather than continue down the train to where they all leave us and it’s just Mastermind T7 and Gault’s Minigolf Tournament of Doom. (seriously it’s a matter of time before they get Lana too, Drew K’s creepy crush on her aside). IT WAS T7 ALL ALONG I KNEW IT.
And then there’s been a LOT of talk about whether Arcann deserves a romance. Which, um, is a little weird. He has done some absolutely horrific things (behind the scenes mostly, because the game has a massive problem with scale and consequences) but you know what if he’s actually still around at this point then you made the decision to trust him and Senya. Maybe that doesn’t absolve everything but hey guys, he’s here by your choice. 
AND ALSO talk about him being brainwashed by the Voss into being good which is just ????? where did this come from???? My first take my first playthrough with goody-two-shoes Lieca (my Jedi Consular) was “oh cool the Voss are healing him with their cool Force healing stuff cause he, you know, NEARLY DIED and therefore requires a crapton of healing to LIVE”. Kinda like the nifty Force Healing ritual you can choose to partake in in the Shrine of Healing where your comp can volunteer in your place and you cry forever at Felix being a total sweetheart. But you give part of your life to physically heal a Voss, not to brainwash them. 
And then Arcann leaves for several months (I think?) in-game and by the time you see him again he’s all I’M GOOD NOW and DRAMATIC DECLARATIONS OF ALLEGIANCE and chill Arcann we’ve met like 4 times now and you’ve tried to kill me most of those times Lieca is going to need a moment. 
But he’s not just being good because of the Voss? A) The Voss concept of morality is completely different to the rest of the galaxy. Why the hell would they turn someone to the light in the first place? B) How would that even work? They’re not the Jedi Council in KOTOR, they’re not corrupting memories or anything. He’s not amnesiac. C) Appearing on the rooftop is not the first good decision he’s ever made???
Like I get the people that really don’t like Arcann - his writing is pretty terrible at times, he makes evil decisions for NO GOOD REASON, he is an all-around jerk. I was certainly one of those that used to HATE him. Skipped through every cutscene, cursing him the entire time. 
But then I’ve talked with a few other fandom peeps and you start to see a bit more of a pattern if you pay attention. Especially if you’re nice to him. He’s not PURE GOOD ANGEL OF LIGHT AND HAPPINESS but nor is he IRREDEEMABLE ASSHOLE OF DARKNESS (aka his smug father)
Arcann had no reason to be nice to you in KOTFE chapter 1 if you told Valk to piss off cause he’s a gross abusive asshole. He was raised as an obedient prince - his job was to stand there and let valk do what he wanted. But the second the room is clear and there were no witnesses (and no-one to try to stop him) he sets you free and tried to attack his father. But he fails, and you strike, and Valk does his SUPER CREEPY FORCE-BONDING MIND-INVASION STUFF (which obviously Arcann was not entirely expecting). And Vaylin walks in and then there’s witnesses again and he’s like “oh this? Yeah. Um. The outlander did it. LOCK THEM UP I’M EMPEROR NOW.” Because, um, this is literally what he was raised to do. In a moment of panic, in untested waters, he retreats to what he knows. 
His cutscenes with Vaylin also sometimes indicate a few moments of him trying. He reminisces about Thexan, outright faltering at the mention of how badly it all ended, and clearly panics (no seriously, the cutscene is zoomed on his face. Watch his expression) when Vaylin says Thexan was such a good brother. He and Vaylin only have each other, she’s with him right? This is the right thing to do right?
Father doesn’t care about us, he only cares about the Outlander, but it’s fine, it’s all fine, we’re the ones in charge not him. 
And he continues to do shitty things and weirdly just lets the Outlander and Senya roam his planet (seriously Arcann you’re such a dumb shit you should be stopping us) and then Heskal calls to say he’s found the Outlander. 
Arcann knew where we were before and didn’t care. The difference here is Heskal, someone Arcann clearly despises and vice versa. Going solely off canon - Arcann ordered the deaths of the Scions, and kills all of them as soon as he shows up. But he stops and tries to reason with you. 
Here’s where it gets interesting. Arcann gives you the option of surrender - which is kinda weird for your enemy. He’s fairly calm and polite about it too. You can either tell him to fuck off, pretend to go along with it and then tell him to fuck off, or you can legitimately surrender. 
And I will forever be so angry at the person who convinced me to surrender to him because wow. Wow. UNCALLED FOR. He’s clearly prepared to actually go through with it, all pleased you’re being good...and then Valkorion shows up and all hell breaks loose. 
“I don’t know what I hate more. Cowardice, or INCOMPETENCE” and you literally see Arcann shrink back. He’s animated to hunch over, his expression sad. This Emperor who ten seconds ago was being affably evil and “ah good you’re going along with my plan” - one sentence from his father and nope, it’s all downhill from there. “You will *never* be rid of me Arcann. Not until you Kill. The. Outlander!”
Which is also very rude Valkorion we have the same body right now you dipshit. Anyway, Arcann’s just like “have it your way father” and the story progresses from there as usual. But it’s telling that again, away from other people and their expectations, he tries to do the right thing before someone reminds him of his place. 
Skip ahead a few chapters and you get more random monstrous acts (Arcann I cannot believe you destroyed five planets for the EVULS you dumb shit. Ugh seriously, be more tactical. THE GAME SAYS YOU’RE GOOD AT THIS BUT YOU’RE CLEARLY NOT. Ahem). And then we get to KOTFE chapter 16. 
Again, you fight Arcann in a room with no witnesses. And this time Valk isn’t going to show up, it’s just you and him. And he’s so angry that Valk isn’t there. Valkorion is the reason he’s doing all of this - he raised him this way, he taunted him, it’s all about Valkorion. But the only one there is you. “Face me Father!”
“I had fear beaten out of me before I could crawl” which is a...little disconcerting Arcann. And then you fight and it’s a terribly confusing fight I still get messed up with because haha one on one fights with a healer. Lieca survived but I’m still not sure how, and it skips to the cutscenes where you escape and leave him to die. But Senya shows up, desperate to save her son, and drags him out of the rubble. 
He thought no-one cared. Even Valkorion didn’t show up to yell at him. But his mother is there, the woman he refused to fight earlier in KOTFE and the woman I’m fairly certain he doesn’t directly threaten or agree with Vaylin about (but I could be wrong - let me know lol). And she saves him. And then Vaylin shows up to try to kill Senya and he pushes her out of the way.
He’s not a good person. he’s done horrible things. But he won’t let another family member die at the hands of another. The scene is deliberately set to match the scene where Thexan died - except the roles are reversed and he’s pushing Vaylin away from attacking Senya, not the one being pulled back. He could have let Senya die - he’s dying anyway, what’s the point? vaylin was the only family he had for years, surely he should be more loyal to her? But he chooses Senya. He makes the good choice again, but this time it sticks. 
He doesn’t rage and scream and pace, he accepts his place in her shuttle. This is probably my wishful thinking but his eyes even seem lighter in that scene where he looks all sad and broken. 
So he’s made lots of shitty choices, but a few good ones along the way. And we go to Voss, because he’s dying and Senya is out of chances and hope. And the Voss are neutral and have Force healing, which is probably why she chose them over someone else. 
And I’m pretty damn sure we don’t see Arcann’s eyes until he is on the shuttle. Again, according to game canon, it’s months between KOTFE chap 16 and KOTET chap 1. He’s had months with just his mother and his own thoughts. And the deciding factor in his light vs dark storyline at this point - Did you kill Senya?
If you kill Senya, he would feel it, absolutely. The one piece of his family who was good and kind and alive and loved him - and you killed her. And probably his hope along with it. Compare his dialogue in chapter 6 on the rooftop if Arcann is dark vs light. It’s a LOT more defeatist if he’s dark. He gives up, he goes back to what he knows, his eyes are yellow. (also you can tell him his panicked Force attack when he wakes up is what killed Senya which absolutely breaks my heart because wow that’s fucking cruel. Way to be a dick and refuse to face your choices DS outlander)
If you save Senya, he doesn’t change back. He still has his hope, he still has his choices. His eyes are blue, because he had the choice to choose light and he did. Before he got to Voss, before they healed him. He chose the light. he chose his mother, his family, over his power.
And he’s far calmer when he meets you on the palace. It’s “take my sister alive” not “HUNT MY SISTER DOWN”. He literally sounds angrier when he’s dark - Erik has given him COMPLETELY different tones as well as the writing team’s different lines and I LOVE IT
Ok this is turning into comparing the Arcann’s (seriously there’s videos of both of them in that chapter it’s a little bit terrifying). BUT MY POINT. If he’s light, he renounces Valkorion. 
In chapter 8 of KOTFE when you surrendered? Everything was fine until valkorion showed up and then he snapped and tried to kill you. Valkorion tries again and he’s just like “yeah sorry but I’m not yours anymore” “you have no son”. And I’m so proud of him. Yes people get shitty that that development happened off screen but at least it happened?
Within the format of the story and the limited time given to him by Bioware, he changes significantly and it’s building on the little choices from KOTFE, not just out of the blue “brainwashing” from the Voss. It’s his choices that matter choice is an illusion. 
Hmm I forgot my point. I was distracted by screaming about the differences in the Arcanns. 
BASICALLY, no he wasn’t “brainwashed” by the Voss, yes he’s still a bit shit but he’s trying, yes he deserves a second chance, and yes I’m going to romance the shit out of that boy and you can’t stop me. 
Oh and for everyone going IF HE FLIRTS WITH ME I’LL KILL HIM ok wow you can just say no guys. Even if the “turning him down” option is rude and you “don’t want to be rude” I think MURDER is a little more rude than rejection, just saying. 
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roninkairi · 7 years ago
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Better Fights Than Superman Vs. Goku
As long as comic books and manga exists, there will be at least two people arguing about who can take who in a fight. That is a constant that I have learned.
In fandom, there are debates about the levels of power heroes and villains have, the types of feats they have to qualify for a win and loss, morals, strategies, and so on. However, while there is many debates and many matchups that have been put out there, there is one that I can never seemingly have a pure definitive answer for myself: Superman vs. Son Goku.
I’m not going to bore you with the background story for these two heroes. And, to be frank, I don’t really think I’m going to give you a definitive answer about the type of fight these two can have. There are so many variables to consider, not to mention the history these two have (and considering that Dragon Ball Super, a new manga/anime series, is giving Goku new powers to use, I’m not even going to try to gauge their strengths at this moment), picking a winner for me boils down to “who do I like more” and I can’t really do it.
Also: I’M GETTING BORED ABOUT DEBATING THIS.
So, what am I doing? Simple really; I’m proposing other worthwhile matches that you should consider discussing. The following are fights I think are more worthy of debate for fans of comics/cartoons and anime/manga and should make for some interesting questions and analysis. You may be surprised by some of the fights I propose. First up-
 Iron Fist (Marvel)  vs. Might Guy (Naruto)
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  This one was not taken lightly by me, especially given what I know of the two.  Danny Rand, a martial arts master, manipulates chi and the power of the dragon Shou-Lao to enhance his body and his abilities to super hero levels. Might Guy, a taijutsu master, can tap into the 8 Gates, which can grant him even greater superhuman strength, speed and agilitiy. And given what Guy does during the events of the 4th Shinobi War, Danny would really be tested.
 Samurai Jack vs. Goemon (Lupin the 3rd)
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 I know a lot of you know who Jack is, but you probably may be thinking “Who da hell is GOEMON?” I’ll give you a heads up: Goemon is based on a historical figure, Goemon Ishikawa. (His full name in the series is Goemon Ishikawa XIII). Like Jack, he is a samurai swordsman who is a skilled fighter (Both of these guys are trained in multiple styles) And like Jack, he has a mystical type of sword. (Zantetsuken, a sword made from a meteorite, which can slice through anything) And if you think Jack’s feats were remarkable, you ought to see all the crazy stuff Goemon has been up to in the entire history of the Lupin the 3rd series. (To give you a small example, he has cut through skyscrapers, tanks, squads of armed men and LIGHTNING. I shit you not on that one.) It was no accident that there is a character in Samurai Jack that is based on two Lupin the 3rd characters. I would not be surprised if Jack was inspired by Goemon too.
 Popeye vs. Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece)
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 Another fight that a friend of mine, Katie, had suggested in the past and, quite honestly, this one is more interesting. Two men of the ocean, both of questionable intelligence, fighting it out to see who is the baddest man to sail the seven seas. And also both are ridiculously durable. Seriously, ever see what Popeye goes through WITHOUT eating the spinach? And Luffy can take some serious beatings. (Look up with fight with Rob Lucci)
HOWEVER…there is one other opponent I’d like to see take on the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates.
 Reed Richards vs. Monkey D. Luffy
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 This is a little more logical as both have similar powers. The key difference here is that while Reed Richards may have the intelligence to constantly have Doctor Doom curse his name, Luffy is more of a fighting type of brilliant. And that’s actually important considering all of the opponents that he has bested in combat who are way more intelligent than him. It would be interesting to see how Reed would fare.
Ok this next choice…this one is a doozy because well…just see for yourself.
                                                                      Freakazoid vs. Bobobo (Bobobo Bo Bo-bobo)
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 There is no possible way I could accurately describe the chaos involved in a fight like this. For starters, Freakazoid works on a level of random comedic genius we don’t get to see that often and the character himself can’t quite be defined in a conventional term other than “batshit crazy”. And on the other side, we have a manga series that operates purely on frequent and random acts of pure comedic insanity. (Seriously, Fist of the Nose Hair.) In order for me to even consider writing the script for this fight, I would need to be stoned out of my mind. Or, barring that, tripping on serious peyote. But lets face it, it would be funny. So funny it would be illegal.
 Now, strictly speaking one of the people involved in this one is from a book series. I’m going to let it slide on the basis that the other series stared as a Light Novel.
 Lord Voldermort (Harry Potter) vs. Lina Inverse (The Slayers)
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 One of these people is a powerful master of magic, wielding powers far beyond our comprehension, whose very name strikes terror in even the most fearsome of creatures and has been responsible for a lot of destruction, leaving even towns burning behind. The other is Voldermort.
Both of these people are respective geniuses at their craft and have gained knowledge of various magic styles. What separates them however is morals; yes Lina DOES have morals despite the fact she likes getting paid handsomely for her services and DESPITE her many nicknames (Like “Enemy of All Who Live”, “Lina The Pink”, “Lina The Bandit Killer”, “Empress of Destruction”, “Natural Disaster Mage”, “No Breasts Demon”—)
Me: Oh shit, I didn’t mean to—
Lina: DRAGON SLAVE!!!!!
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…as I was saying, the very lovely noble and kind magic user who is merciful to all her foes (I am NOT typing this for fear of my life by the way) has morals whereas Voldermort has no qualms about doing anything to get what he wants. (Dude was willing to a baby because it may have been a threat to him. There’s no grey area there.) Plus, despite being nigh immortal, Voldermort would be hard pressed to fight a mage who knows spells that can hurt your very soul.
 So there you have it, some of my choices for a better fight than Superman vs. Goku. And before I go, here is the joke fight that, admittedly, I would be happy to see…
                                                   Perry the Platypus vs. Kyuubey
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…face it, it would be AWESOME.
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juggydunes · 8 years ago
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Summary:  Every person has two dates on their wrist. One is when they die and the other is when they find their soulmate. What happens if both dates are the same?
Warnings:  Angst galore but with a happy ending, I swear!  
Hope you guys enjoy, saw this prompt and I couldn’t NOT write the angst. Tbh, I kinda hate myself a little hahaha but it’s HEA, so don’t worry!
Jughead watches the city skyline from the fire escape stairs of his apartment, the smoke from his cigarette blending in with the scenery. He brings it to his mouth, taking a slow drag, enjoying the bitter taste it leaves on his tongue.
He catches sight of the numbers on his right wrist, not really needing to read them to know what they say.
3/15/2026
3/15/2026
Everyone on the age thirteen wakes up on their birthday with a brand new set of dates on their wrist, the first signaling the day you meet your soulmate and the second indicating the day you die. A little too dramatic and boring, in Jughead’s opinion, knowing when you meet your end definitely changed a person’s behavior… but he might be biased, bitter or both because on the morning of his thirteenth birthday he found out he would die the day he met his soulmate.
Funny, hilarious even. Of course, nothing in his life could ever be simple or easy. No, Jughead Jones and the easy way were complete strangers to each other. It wasn’t easy when his father got passed out drunk every day, it wasn’t easy when his mother had finally had enough, choosing to ran away with Jellybean... and it certainly hadn’t been easy when his father got locked up in jail for covering a murder.
So, when his thirteenth birthday came around, he was excited if not a little wary. Maybe something would turn out right for him. Jughead remembers with clarity the way his heart stopped inside his chest at the numbers, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands because his eyes must be seeing wrong, this had to be a mistake.
The lead weight right on his sternum had made it difficult to breathe as he let his wrist drift to the bed again. It made no noise but Jughead could still feel its phantom echoes on the now empty cavern of his heart.
The world simply didn’t want him to be happy, it seemed. Happy was uncharted. A town from which he’d been exiled, doomed to be forever wandering its edges but never really become a resident.
So, after days and weeks of brooding, Jughead decided to make something with the remaining years he had. He turned all his emotions onto his writing, the words being the only thing keeping him anchored to the real world. People came and went, but words remained a constant.
That’s how two years ago found him staring at his book, proudly sitting on the bookstore’s shelf next to other best-sellers. A genuine smile on his face, a flicker of happiness. Well, at least I’ve made a little mark in history.
 His next breath comes out shaky against his will, he knew this day was coming, feeling like this was useless. He had everything ready, all the paperwork indicating that her sister would get everything he ever owned. Detailed instructions about how to proceed with his work were written on the draft of his next book series he had already written, furiously typing into his beaten up laptop, feeling the countdown on his wrist mocking him at every beat.
A part of the profits from his work would go to Fred and Archie Andrews. Jughead doesn’t really speak to Archie anymore, figuring it was best to just save him the trouble of dealing with a dead best friend at the age of 27 years old, but he would never forget how the Andrews gave him solace when he was so lost.
Jughead stays there, looking at the sleeping city that is so completely unaware of the tear that rolls down his face, his last goodbye, the last tear he would shed.
A part of him feels at peace because it all meant he wouldn’t feel hollow anymore, he would not have to wake up and go through the motions of it all, Jughead would just… finally rest. The struggle would be no more.
It’s funny, he thinks watching the sunrise, how much time one could spend talking or writing about it but usually not taking the time to actually witness it. The sky seems to be putting on a show just for him today, as if it’s bidding him goodbye, filled with deep purples, blues and the shade of yellow-orange the sun brings.
He spent a lot of time thinking about what he could do with this day. Considered not going out at all, or just wander through the city… but now that it is here, he’s not sure how to react to his impending destiny. Luckily for Jughead, the roar of his stomach makes the decision for him. He changes into his favorite clothes, a small comfort, but the beanie stays on the box meant for his sister.
The streets look the same. Logically, Jughead didn’t expect anything to change once he died, but he can still feel the resentment towards these clueless people that are just going to keep on living. He scoffs at the sudden bitterness of his thoughts.
He makes his way to this little cafe near his apartment, wanting the taste of their coffee and pancakes for at least one more time. Maybe even get a milkshake.
Jughead people-watches like he usually does as he waits for the traffic lights to turn red again. Thinking back on this moment he will later realize that if he hadn’t been people-watching, he might’ve not seen anything at all.
A little girl, big eyes and brown curly hair, is running. A big smile on her face, too lost in the innocence of the game to realize the light is still green and there’s a car approaching quickly.
“Caroline!” a woman shouts from the sidewalk, eyes wide in horror and the car keeps moving, honking.
If time had been passing slowly all day for Jughead, right now it feels as if it has finally stopped. He doesn’t understand exactly what is going on, but he feels himself sprinting across the street towards the girl before his mind can react. He reaches her, pushing her somewhat roughly out of the way, watching as the little girl falls backwards with a shocked expression, her mother screaming on the background.
Jughead had always been curious about how exactly he would die, if he was honest, and he can’t help but to think about how ironic it is that after knowing this day would come, it still catches him by surprise when the car slams into him.
 His chest is on fire and he cannot breathe properly, flashes of faces come and go along the sounds of screaming and sirens. Jughead can barely distinguish words as his body is being pulled into an ambulance, or at least that’s what he thinks they’re doing.
The sound of doors closing and the bumps of the road that make him groan with every harsh movement, the wet sounds of his breathing in the small space. He vaguely notices he’s shivering even if he’s not cold, instead, he feels like he’s burning up from inside out.
Jughead hates the infinite struggle, he wishes he could just die and be done with it. He vaguely wonders why he never considered throwing himself off someplace high. Each difficult breath makes him want to scoff, remembering him of the character he wrote that gets hit by a car. If he has a chance to re-write it, he would because the agony is highly inaccurate to the simple pain he had inflicted. He should’ve George R. R. Martin the motherfucker.
The sudden movement of people lowering the stretcher to the ground, then forward, makes him cough and whimper a little at the pain that causes. In a haze, he’s able to open his eyes for a few seconds, the pristine white of the ceiling and its lights blinding, a flash of blonde hair that catches his attention before he’s unable to keep his eyes open anymore.
It feels like he just blinked but he’s under a blue ceiling now, the lights look closer and a constant beeping noise is making his head hurt badly. He distantly feels his body being moved from one stretcher to a firmer surface. His body feels numb, the wrong kind where you know you should be feeling something instead of nothingness.
His head moves to the side just before a person moves closer to him and even though her face is mostly covered by a surgical mask…
He knows.
Jughead would like to think that if he ever saw her without all the procedure stuff, he would still be captivated by her big green eyes. They’re filled with life in a way his never were. Shining upon him with an intensity that would leave him breathless if he wasn’t already struggling to breathe. 
Her hand finds his way to his forehead, pushing the matted hair back. 
“You’re going to be alright.” she says. 
Jughead closes his eyes for a second, making tears fall across his temples. Looking back at her, he thinks... I could see myself loving a person with such kind eyes. The thought makes a weird sob sound escape him as he internally curses every deity that participated in putting something so pure in front of him only to tear it away. Only to tear him away. 
He wants to tell her something, anything, but he’s too weak. He wants to tell her… 
I wish I had time to fall in love with you. 
I wish I could’ve seen your face just one time. 
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you were destined to see your soulmate die but damn am I glad you’re here and that I won’t die alone. 
You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. 
You look like loving you would be the easiest thing to do. 
I wish we had more time. 
 He thinks maybe his eyes must be telling her all these thoughts because she frowns and shakes her head a little. 
“No. You’ll be fine.” She tells him, voice firm, her eyes leave him to watch at the monitors next to him for a second. 
He smiles at her in reassurance, or at least he tries to. He wants to tell her it’s okay, he’s ready for this… he has to. 
Jughead manages to looks at her, fighting his heavy eyelids, for a few seconds more before darkness claims him. 
He doesn’t get to hear the sentencing long beeping sound.
Heaven is shit. 
At least that’s what he thinks, because his body hurts like never before and his brain feels like it’s about to burst out of his skull. Groaning, he tries to move but before he can get too far he feels two small hands on his shoulders, pushing back. 
“No, no, don’t get up.” 
His opens his eyes at the sound. There, looking down at him is the most beautiful human being he’s ever seen. Blonde hair, peach lips stretched into a small smile and the green eyes he remembers, full of emotions he can’t decipher. She looks like everything he could ever need. 
“Hi” she says, voice only above a whisper. He’s suddenly aware of the way her hand surrounds his at his side, the contact anchoring him. 
“Am I dead?” he asks, frowning in confusion, voice hoarse. If he could see her so clearly… maybe heaven wasn’t so bad. A sound between a laugh and a cry escapes her lips. 
“You…” She begins, but pauses, seemingly to gather strength. “Technically, you did die. Your heart stopped beating… twice. But we managed to bring you back. You’re still in intensive care for a while just to make sure everything is really okay. You have a few broken ribs, a punctured lung and a fracture on your left leg.” 
She says, matter-of-factly, as her eyes fill with tears. Jughead tightens his hand around her fingers a little, a spark of something flowing through their veins that makes her gasp. He’s alive and she’s here. It leaves him shocked, all he can do is follow her with his eyes as she fidgets a little, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers twitch with the desire to do the same. 
“You really scared me back there, Forsythe.” She tells him softly and he internally winces at the name. 
“Jughead.” He finally tells her. She tilts her head to the side in confusion. “People call me Jughead. Forsythe is my father.” he explains. 
The most gorgeous smile appears on her face, a little amused. God, she’s so beautiful… 
“Well, Jughead… nice to meet you. I’m Betty Cooper, I kinda saved your life.” She says and he can already feel the dopey grin paint his face.
 Little did she know just how right she was.
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petersasteria · 8 years ago
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Sidemen Imagine!
Pairing: None
Requested? Nope. 
This will only feature 4 of them, because I already made an imagine of Josh, Ethan, and Harry.
Have fun reading!
* * * *
You, Tobi, JJ, Vikk, and Simon were at your house. Everyone was either busy or out of town. Harry is in Guernsey, Josh is on a date with Freya, and Ethan is out on a vacation with his girlfriend. The rest wanted to hang out at your house for a change. Now, all of you are bored out of your minds. You decided to watch 'Into the Woods', because it gave you goosebumps and Anna Kendrick is your cousin. (a/n: Anna Kendrick asdfghjkl)
It was the part where the baker discovered that his wife was dead. You were preparing for the most complicated song throughout the film. Little did you know the boys were preparing too.
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You were shocked when Simon began.
(a/n: play it now so that you're not confused about who's playing the part of who.)
Simon: *points at JJ* it's because of you there's a giant in our midst and my wife is dead!
JJ: *stands up dramatically* But it isn't my fault. I was given those beans. You persuaded me to trade away my cow for beans and without those beans there'd have been no stalk to get up to the giants in the first place!
Simon: *walks toward JJ* Wait a minute magic beans for a cow so old that you had to tell a lie to sell it which you told. Were they worthless beans? Were they over sold? Oh, and tell us who persuaded you to steal that gold!
*everyone including you stands up*
Tobi: See, it's your fault!
JJ: No!
Simon: Yes, it's your fault!
JJ: No!
Tobi: Yes it is!
JJ: It's not!
Simon: It's true.
JJ: Wait a minute, though. I only stole the gold to get my cow back from you! *pushes Simon*
Tobi: *looks at Simon* So, it's your fault!
JJ: Yes!
Simon: No, it isn't. I'd have kept those beans, but our house was cursed. She made us get a cow to get the curse reversed. *points at Vikk*
Vikk: *in character as Meryl Streep* It's his father's fault that the curse got placed and the place got cursed in the first place!
Tobi: *stands next to Vikk* Oh, then it's his fault.
Vikk: *turns to Tobi* So.
You: It was his fault.
JJ: No.
Simon: *looks down and thinks dramatically* Yes it is, It's his.
You: I guess.
JJ: *runs to the couch and stands on it* Wait a minute, though. I chopped down the beanstalk. Right, that's clear. But without any beanstalk, then what's queer is how did the second giant get down here in the first place? Second place?
You: Yes.
Tobi: How?
Simon: *in deep thought* Hmm...
JJ: Well, who had the other bean?
Simon: The other bean.
You: The other bean.
JJ: *goes down the couch and walks toward Simon* You pocketed the other bean!
Simon: I didn't. Yes, I did.
Tobi: *goes up to Simon* So, it's your fault!
Simon: No, it isn't 'cause I gave it to my wife!
Tobi: So, it's her fault!
Simon: No, it isn't!
You: Then whose is it?!
Simon: *stressed* Wait a minute! She exchanged that bean to obtain your shoe *points at you and walks toward you* so the one who knows what happened to the bean is you!
You: You mean that old bean....that your wife....oh dear! But I never knew and so I threw, well don't look here!
Tobi: So, it's your fault!
You: But--
JJ: See, it's her fault!
You: But--
JJ: *puts hands up in defense* And it isn't mine at all.
Simon: But what?
You: *turns to JJ and points at him* Well, if you hadn't gone back up again!
JJ: We were needy.
You: You were greedy. Did you need that hen?!
JJ: But I got it for my mother!
Tobi: So, it's her fault then! *sits on the couch*
You: Yes! And what about the harp in the third place?!
Simon: The harp, yes.
JJ: *turns to Tobi angrily* She went and dared me to!
Tobi: I dared you to?
JJ: You dared me to! She said that I was scared.
Tobi: Me?!
JJ: So she dared me!
Tobi: No I didn't!
You, JJ, and Simon: *points at Tobi* So it's your fault!
Tobi: *pushes past JJ whilst getting up from the couch* Wait a minute!
You: *you and Tobi face each other* If you hadn't dared him too...
Simon: *faces JJ and points at him* And you had left the harp alone...*in the background* we wouldn't be in trouble in the first place!
Tobi: *to you* Well, if you hadn't throw away the bean in the first place!
You: *turns to Vikk who was sitting quietly watching you all; amazed* If she hadn't raised them in the first place!
JJ: *points at Vikk* If you hadn't raised them in the first place!
You, JJ, Simon, and Tobi: *walk towards Vikk* If you hadn't raised them in the first place! It's your fault! You're responsible! You're the one to blame! It's your fault!
(a/n: here's part 2 play it now)
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Vikk: *stands up* Shhh! *holds a little pillow like a baby and looks at it* It's the last midnight. It's the last wish. It's the last midnight. Soon, it will be boom squish. *looks at you guys* Told a little lie, *looks at JJ and walks to him* Stole a little gold, *looks at you* Broke a little vow. Did you...had to get your prince? *looks back at JJ* Had to get your cow? *looks at Simon* Had to get your wish? *hands him the fake baby* Doesn't matter how. Anyway, it doesn't matter now.
Vikk: It's the last midnight. It's the boom splat! *stays in the middle of the living room* Nothing but a vast midnight. Everybody smashed flat! *looks at all of you* Nothing we can do. Not exactly true. We could always give her the boy. *points at JJ* No, of course what really matters is the blame. Someone you can blame. Fine, if that's the thing you enjoy placing the blame. If that's the aim, give me the blame! Just give me the boy.
You, Tobi, Simon: *goes in front of JJ* No.
Vikk: *looks down* No. *looks up at you guys and fakes a smile* You're so nice. You're not good. You're not bad. You're just nice. I'm not good. I'm not nice. I'm just right. I'm the witch. You're the world! *leans on wall* I'm the hitch. I'm what no one believes. I'm the witch! *looks at Simon* You're all liars and thieves like *points at Simon* his father. Like, his son will be too. Oh, why bother?! You'll just do what you do!
Vikk: It's the last midnight! So goodbye all! *stands straight and waves goodbye* Coming at you fast midnight. *walks around* Soon you'll see the sky fall! *mocking tone* Here, you want a bean? *throws imaginary bean on the ground*
You: *picks it up*
Vikk: Have another bean! *throws bean*
JJ: *runs to pick it up*
Vikk: Beans were made for making you rich *throws another bean*
Tobi: *picks it up*
Vikk: Plant them and they soar. Here, you want some more? *throws bean after bean*
You, Tobi, JJ, and Simon: *picks up every bean as much as possible*
Vikk: Listen to the roar. Giants by the score. Oh, well you can blame another witch. *shrugs* It's the last midnight! It's the last verse! *stands in the middle of the living room again* Now before it's past midnight, I'm leaving you my last curse! *points at Simon* I'm leaving you alone! You can tend the garden it's yours. Separate and alone. Everybody down on all fours! *kneels down* *looks up at ceiling* *unleashes all anger that built up* Alright, mother, when? Lost the beans again! Punish me the way you did then! Give me claws *pretends hands are claws* and a hunch *points at all of you* just away from this bunch! And the gloom! And the doom! And the boom! Crunch! *sits on couch and sighs heavily*
You, Tobi, JJ, and Simon: *stares at Vikk*
JJ: Maybe I shouldn't have stolen from the giant... *sits next to Vikk*
Tobi: Maybe I shouldn't have strayed from the path... *sits on the other side of Vikk*
You: Maybe I shouldn't have attended the ball... *sits next to Tobi*
Simon: *hands you the fake baby and sits next to JJ* Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't have.
All of you looked at each other and laughed.
"I did not expect you guys to know those songs!" you laughed.
"We practiced it!" Vikk chuckled.
"Really?!" you were gobsmacked.
"Yeah! We knew you would put in that movie, so we had to at least know 1 or 2 songs to save you from being the only one singing." Tobi said.
"Mhm. Trust me, that shit is awkward once you finish a song that sang alone." Simon looked at you.
"Let's not tell everyone this happened, yeah?" JJ laughed.
"Definitely." you all laughed.
"I'm afraid that's too late. What the fuck was that?!" a voice boomed.
You all looked at the front door and saw Callux standing there.
"When did you get here?!" you shrieked.
"Did you see all of that?" JJ asked.
"Fuck yeah I did.  It was awesome! I came in just in time as well." Callux chuckled.
"Okay, but how did you get in here?" you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
"Oh. Your door was open." Callux said as he closed the door and sat down next to you.
"I'm alright with you knowing as long as you don't tell anyone." Vikk told Callux as he looked at him.
"Sure. In one condition." Callux smirked.
You all groaned.
"What?" Simon thrown his head back on the couch.
"I get to sing with you on the next song!" Callux smiled.
"Sure, but this movie is nearly done." you pointed out. It was already when they beat the giant and the whole "earthquake" thing is over.
"Aww. Well, Luxlike we're watching High School Musical." Callux said, sounding desperate as he crawled to the stack of DVDs and picked out High School Musical. After Into the Woods, Callux put in High School Musical.
He sat down next to you again and turned to all of you. "Alright bitches. I'll sing Sharpay's parts." he said.
"What? Why?! I wanna be Sharpay!" you pouted.
"Nope. I'm Sharpay." Callux shook his head.
"Why?" Tobi asked.
"Because I'm fabulous." Callux posed fiercely.
"Your Sammy days are over now, Cal. It's all about Kandy now." Simon chuckled.
"Shut the fuck up, Simon." Callux said to him. "Anyway, Y/N, you'll be Ryan. I'm excited! Let's all sing!" he clapped his hands excitedly whilst you all groaned.
* * * *
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