#Like she’s not in the circus besides a photo right?

[isforever]

[battymommastuff]

To be Mine

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Warnings: A bit of NSFW

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Masterlist

(NOT MY GIF)

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

"It's a shame isn't it? Watching someone you thought loved you, be with some else?" The voice spoke into your ear before moving some of your hair to the side. You could feel his golden mask press against your cheek. How did you end up here? One minute you were in the mansion...now you were standing on a building watching Batman with Catwoman. After weeks of hiding, the Court found you. He found you. You left your window open by mistake, and it was easy for them to sneak in an grab you. Alfred would have never known...

"And you are so beautiful...simply perfect." The Grandmaster whispered to you while running a hand along your waist, "How about we strike a new deal? Instead of becoming one of my Talons, you become mine?" Your eyes went wide when he said that. His? As in his lover? His wife? 

"I will worship you. Protect you...nurture you. What has Batman done for you besides break your precious heart?" He asked while gesturing to the couple only a few buildings away, "Take my hand...and I swear I will show you what it means to be loved." He purred. Your eyes moved down to his hand. The black, leather glove had become more tempting. Who were you to resist such a tempting offer? 

"Would I still be a part of the circus?" You asked, and the Grandmaster nodded. The circus...your home...your family. You could go home, and everything would be okay. Hesitantly, your hand extended to his. Despite him wearing it, the glove was cold to the touch. The Grandmaster smirked under his mask then pulled you close, "Welcome home, my love." He whispered, guiding you away from the edge of the building. 

Selina had her head tilted to the side as Batman kissed her neck hungrily. A smirk on her face as she almost had him right where she wanted him. Then she could make her daring escape...as usual. That is, until she saw a group of people watching her from afar. "What the hell?" She whispered, getting Batman's attention. He pulled away from her neck then turned around. His eyes widened when he saw your hand in the Grandmaster's. How did the Court get to you? 

Leaving a very confused Selina, Batman made his way across the rooftops as quickly as he could. He couldn't let them take you away. He tried so hard to act like he didn't care for you. He wanted to shut you out, but he couldn't. Even when he was kissing Selina, all he thought was about your lips, your neck...your everything. Batman...Bruce Wayne, they couldn't live without you. 

By the time he got there, all that was left was a cloud of smoke. Batman fell to his knees and panted softly. Even though you weren't there, he could still smell your perfume. That smell would never leave him. 

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"Woah woah woah. You mean to tell me, you married the Grandmaster?!? Of the Court of Owls???" Jason asked as he got up from your bed. You smiled awkwardly while rubbing your baby bump. 

"It wasn't my proudest moment, but I was young...and heartbroken." You explained then looked over at Dick who was just staring at the photo of you with him and his parents. You reached over and gently took the photo from his hand, "I loved them...as if they were my family. They were my family..." 

><><><><><><><><><

Tonight…nearly two years later, your husband was hosting a masquerade ball in order to do some under the table business deals. You were also there. A golden mask that matched his, but only covered your eyes and nose. A black floor length gown that sparkled more than the diamonds on your finger. You were his bride, his trophy. Which made it very easy when a certain billionaire decided to attend.

This was your first public appearance in almost two years. The Court could keep you hidden from Batman, but not from Bruce Wayne. He wasn't on the guest list, but money always seemed to get him into the most interesting of places. Now here he was, walking up to you as you picked up a drink for you and your husband.

"Hello, (Y/N)."

That voice had chills running down your spine. Turning you saw his beautiful face. He was the only one not wearing a mask.

"Bruce…"

TAGLIST

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa @xxrougefangxx @pixviee @discocactus-world @b4tm4nn @minimoxha @crutoyu @nightw-izhu @legendarylearner18 @mangegeek17 @pixiedust0604 @that-one-fangirl69 @ilovetaquitoesmmmm @irelanrose @asterelz @angelxx7 @millies0bsimp @marie0v @starmansirius @amberpanda99 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @inutheangel @chaoticevilbakugo @mellowdiy @luvly-writer @enretrogue @zanzie @backyardfolklore @olivewisp @celestair @birdsdieatmydoor @teddyinks @bluusugar @murkyponds @nuttyrebelflower @bee-studio @miks-delusional-blog @luxky-aish @my-anime-garden @zanzie @cleocat246 @animegirlfromvietnam

[coupleoffanfics]

How would Batsis! y/n become a villain?

I found this while trying to clean up my writing drafts. Not sure when I wrote this, but I decided to post it because why not.

Jerome Route

If she had no friends, that connection with Barbara, or relationship with Jeremiah then Jerome would have a considerably easier time charming y/n. The emotional neglect from the family makes her desperate for any sort of contention leading her right into the hands of Jerome.

The family would believe that y/n can be saved, but she sees them trying to save face. Trying to stop her from telling Jerome all the big bad Batman's secrets by saying they're sorry and that they care. She doesn't end up telling him about their identities because someone has to keep Gotham safe. She's with Jerome, but she doesn't agree with everything he does.

y/n might purposefully sabotage Jerome's schemes. It's not because she cares for the family, no. It's for Batman and his Robins to keep innocent people safe. She keeps the family and their personas separate. At least she'll try to see them as separate.

Her logic is backwards and hypocritical, but frankly she doesn't care enough anymore. All that matters is Jerome's love. Who needs friends or family when you can have Jerome?

y/n and Jerome probably argued over wedding ideas.. Jerome wants a circus theme with a replica of his mom as a pinata. While y/n wants a traditional, elegant wedding. They compromise by letting y/n have that traditional vibe with the ceremony and Jerome can go batshit with the reception.

Jerome never put so much thought into something before and he never wants to do that again.

The Batfamily was not invited of course. The family most likely hears about it or even sends wedding photos. y/n probably has Joker or some other villain walk her down the aisle. Bruce sulks about it for months.

Post-Spray Jeremiah Route

If y/n had no one else besides Jeremiah and her moral compass was cracked. Then of course she's almost going to believe everything he tells her.

There's no denying that Gotham is a modern day Babylon. Yeah, the world would be better without it. Maybe it would be a good thing if we do get rid of it. Yeah, we could rebuild it!

But she'll run into the same problem of not fully following Jeremiah's ideology. At least how he goes about obtaining the goal of cleaning up Gotham. The cult stuff freaks her out a lot. When his followers bow down to her and praise her, she'll tell them to stop but he orders them to do that.

After expressing her discomfort over the cult and the followers' behavior, Jeremiah will distance her from it. Having her become sheltered in the bunker or a manor hidden away in the woods. Meaning the only relationship she can have with anyone who isn't Jeremiah is Ecco. Even then Ecco is  just another follower that was trained to be a guard dog.

This version of y/n wouldn't be too involved compared to the Jerome route. But if Jeremiah was caught and sent to Arkham, y/n is sneaking in to break him out. It could be by disguising herself as a guard or forcefully entering it with full confidence.

The family would try to reason with her if only they could actually talk to her. Again since she's not hands on it's a rarity for them to see her.

The few times they've met face to face was when their hero personas. Jeremiah and Ecco were busy fighting off the others, giving them time to talk. If they try to convince her to leave him, she'll either ignore it or tell them about how he's all she ever had. The only family member that could possibly break through to y/n would probably be Jason or maybe even Barbara.

Jeremiah and y/n get offended when they're compared to Joker and Harley. They'll clearly be different because they have a healthy and loving relationship. People probably come up with the comparison because of his physical appearance and he hates it. They're not wrong when they say their relationship is loving, but it being healthy is debatable.

y/n is more than willing to kill or torture someone if they were to do anything to Jeremiah. Though once again her hands are off, but doesn't mind getting her hands dirty.

y/n is the type to write like love letters and put them into Jeremiah's pocket before he leaves. He's in the middle of fighting Batman and suddenly a pink paper with a red heart border falls out of his pocket. Seeing it makes him scramble to grab it and shove it back into his pocket. He'll read it later.

This y/n might live a more semi-normal life, but probably struggles with loneliness and depression. Since Jeremiah is often working and Ecco is Ecco.

Sprayed Route

The moment y/n realizes what is happening she goes to Jeremiah and contacts Barbara who informs the family. They'd probably find a cure, but for the sake of story and angst let's say they can't.

Everyone is just forced to watch y/n become what essentially a Joker lookalike. Or she could look completely the same, doesn't really matter because they'll all be horrified by the drastic change.

She'd use the knowledge of their identities against them. Dangling it above their heads, but it isn't long before they realize that she isn't going to say anything. Oh, but she's definitely telling Jeremiah all about this. Of course he swears to never tell anyone and he might start working with the family to lock y/n up.

Not only was she endangering herself, but others as well. The best thing for everyone is to lock her up.

If she learns about Jeremiah working against her. She'd be so heartbroken. Violently throwing and smashing everything in the room she was in before coming up with an idea. 'He'd never be against me, they probably forced him to work for them. It's all their fault. They always ruin everything, but I won't let them take him.'

Out of all of the other possible routes this y/n would be the most vindictive. She'll guilt trip the family with her sob stories of their neglect, their personas won't won't react. But she knows they'll be thinking about what she said hours later. She'll spit out insults and won't hold back fighting.

Her once passive and defensive fighting style has completely flipped to almost recklessly aggressive. The only way she'll stop fighting back is if they restrain or knock her out.

Arkham isn't hard for her to adjust to. She'll explain to her few visitors (Jeremiah, Barbara, and Alfred) that it reminds her of Wayne manor. But less lonely.

Barbara and Alfred are the only family members she'll allow to visit her. As she still has a bit of a soft spot for them. Will not admit it, but she's always pleasantly surprised when Babs visits her or Alfred sends her some of his cooking. It almost makes her tear up and feel immense sadness. Just almost.

Probably besties with Riddler or something. Most Arkham inmates know of the name Jeremiah Valeska by how much y/n will mindlessly ramble about him. They also know not to mess with him because they'll be put on top of her shit list.

Masterlist Here

[allimocha]

Let’s show off some other units in Virtualetta besides Vivid Ageha (aka side characters)

Milky Mirage, one of the top idol duet units!

Here are the members:

Pierrot (Indigo “Indie” Charles)

Style: Circus Chic

Colors: Apple Red (Main) Sky Blue and Sunny Yellow (Accent)

Weapon: “Jokers Bells”

Aspect Color: Apple Red

VDoll: Harle-K (Elephant type plush)

Solo Song: “Go! Merry Go Round!”

A hyperactive and cheerful 18 year old girl. Since she’s a 2 star virtualetta, she can alter her outfit. So she swapped out her glass eye to a different color (the one on the right) and put on the white face paint. She’s always at 100 all the time, just a ball of pure energy. She was in the circus with her family as an acrobat, before she was a virtualetta, and during one of her stunts she injured her eye, which is why she has a glass one.

Jinx (Charlotte Monet)

Style: Vibrant Witchy

Colors: Amethyst (Main) Aquamarine and Spinel (Accent)

Weapon: “Spellbound Baton”

Aspect Color: Amethyst

VDoll: Hex-W (Cat type plush)

A very monotone and chill 19 year old. She’s definitely a girl of a few words, rarely showing too much emotion past being content, or indifference. Yet shes still very compassionate, despite her monotone speech. Very into witchcraft and sorcery, and it definitely shows. At least 6 feet tall, the definition of a gentle giant. A 2 star virtualetta like her partner, she also added face paint to her form.

Extra Unit Stuffs:

Duet Weapon : “Fortune Bell Baton”

Unit name: Milky Mirage

Unit Song(s): “Spectrum Synchronization”

So here’s another unit that I’ve created, definitely the role models of the virtualetta world too.

The next group is also a duet unit (unit consisting of 2 members) and just as close as these two!

Look forward to it, Byiiieee~!

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Read More~

Here’s the photo of the two together, both civilian and virtualetta forms.

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Fixing Fears

Gregory's acting a little off in the process of the trio collecting things from Freddy's Pizza to transfer to Radical Eats...

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Cassie held up her phone, taking pictures of the strings of colorful flags draped over the dilapidated carousel and the dust drifting in tiny motes around the row of kiddie rides shaped like the Fazband. In the dim light of the games corner of the old Freddy’s place on the other side of the wall, many of the abandoned attractions still had a retro charm to them that she caught on camera. She took a few steps back from the rides, her phone in her hands as she tilted her head, giving them a second look-over to see if there could be any other angles to take photos from.

After a moment, she looked up and aside at her two friends a short distance away at the arcade machines. Those machines had been the main reason for coming this way, passing through the ventilation tunnel connecting Freddy’s to Circus Baby’s Pizza and Parties. Originally they were supposed to be here to see if the Security Puppet would finally give Gregory instructions on where to go to find the last item to get the last drive, and Gregory was supposed to bring the rest of Mike Schmidt’s things for Oswald to check for clues the two of them might not have seen.

Gregory didn’t bring the things and instead asked for help collecting spare parts from the arcade to fix up the games at Radical Eats. Both Oswald and Cassie had given him looks about that, but Oswald had let it slide soon after and crawled into the vent to get started while Cassie narrowed her eyes at Gregory to let him know she sure as hell wasn’t letting that go.

Right now, Oswald was carefully taking apart one of the old arcade cabinets, pulling circuit boards out and examining them with a flashlight he held in one hand. Gregory sat on a small stack of plastic crates that used to hold the cheap, single-ticket prizes, watching him with a faintly interested expression as he rested his cheek on one hand. Cassie rolled her eyes; that was the same look she caught him with back when she was doing her presentation of her report on Afton Robotics in class and he thought being in the back of the classroom would shield him. Gregory had a big heart and a big brain, but he was also big stupid at times.

She ambled over and plopped down on the crates beside him, bumping him with her hip to get him to scooch over and make room. “So how many boards has he gotten out of that old Pac-Man machine?” Cassie asked, flicking through the photos she took and favoriting the best shots of the bunch.

“Uh..,” Gregory trailed off, blinking as he looked to be trying to recall the information.

“You two are so easy to read,” she added with a snicker. Especially funny that them being so dense about each other meant they were clueless about her. She lifted her phone and viewed Oswald through it, taking a photo of him studying one board with a critical gaze, that slight pout that she knew meant he was thinking how much extra work he’d have to do to repair minor damage and what price to put on that.

Gregory wanted Oswald’s help with the parts, but he didn’t want the work done for free, so Oswald was struggling a little with figuring out fair costs so Gregory could present a bill for Radical Eats to cover.

Speaking of Gregory, he was giving her that confused stare, the one where he suspected she was implying something he should know but hadn’t figured it out because boys were kind of thick like that. Cassie snapped a photo of that look on his face too and giggled at him wrinkling his nose in reaction.

“There’s a lot of good parts so far,” Oswald called out to them, “I should be able to fix a lot of your arcade games with these.”

“Your dad starts his new job soon, right? This should get you plenty of your own spending money until your mom and dad can sort out a new budget,” Gregory remarked, hopping down from the crates to head over and look at the backpack full of parts set on the floor. Cassie favorited her recent photos before heading over to see for herself.

There was a faint chill in the air that seeped through her sweater and she looked up to check if the air conditioning had somehow turned on. A faint curse from Gregory pulled her attention to him and she tilted her head in confusion as his expression became an irritated scowl. Oswald stood up beside him, taking a step forward as he looked ahead of the three of them with a frown.

“Uh, what’s going on?” she asked warily. Why were they suddenly on edge like this?

“Remember those Remnant powers we were talking about?” Oswald began carefully.

“And the grouchy old ghost who guards this place?” Gregory finished.

“So.. the ghost is here now,” Cassie pieced together from their words, lifting her fingers to point to the open and empty space of the games room, “and you guys can see him.. over there?”

“Our Remnant got fucked with, yours wasn’t,” Gregory explained tightly, “So yeah. We can see him while you can’t.”

Well, that was totally unfair. She huffed, folding her arms over her chest, and tried not to feel so annoyed at being left out of whatever was going on. Oswald moved back a bit and she blinked at the cautious prodding of her shoulder, glancing over to see him hold out a hand to her, palm up. He was still focused on that big open space, so why was he offering his hand to her?

She gave him a puzzled look. Maybe there was a reason for it? Trusting that there was one, Cassie slid her hand into his, gripping lightly as an odd warmth washed over her at the contact. She felt her face grow hot and hoped no one could see it in the shadows of Freddy’s. Did he just want to hold hands?

A blink, and then Cassie started to realize something was happening. The empty space in front of them was starting to look less empty. A faint blue mist seemed to seep out of the walls, the ceiling, the floor, shimmering on the edge of her vision. And a figure stood before them, tall and lanky and kind of see-through and oddly familiar-looking. She gasped at the security guard outfit and hat that looked so much like the uniform in those lockers and in the photos of those files she helped study for ages.

Was this what the guys were seeing?!

“Is that Mike Schmidt?!” Cassie exclaimed and the ghost glared at her.

“For the last time,” he groused, “I’m not a ghost, I’m a spirit. And I ain’t Mike, I’m Six!” He wagged his fingers between them all. “What the hell are you three doin’ here?”

“Gettin’ parts,” Gregory told him flatly, chin raised as if daring him to do something about it, “Not like this place was gonna be usin’ ‘em anymore.”

The spirit narrowed his eyes as he walked towards them. Cassie tensed as he approached with that severe expression. He had that same prickly feeling of being annoyed that Gregory got when having to listen to their homeroom teacher give announcements of makeup credit work since his name was almost always on the list to get them. The spirit stopped in front of them all, hands on his hips as he stared down at them in silence for a long moment.

“That all you’re gonna do here?” he finally asked. Gregory nodded once and the spirit’s pressure dropped away as he stood back in a more relaxed pose. “Eh, guess that’s fine then. Dumbass machines ain’t part of my ‘protect’ job description,” he said and walked on past them to lean against the prize counter, relaxing against it as if to promptly ignore their presence.

“So.. we can take this stuff?” Oswald asked in an unsure tone, pointing at the backpack full of parts with his free hand.

“Yeah, I don’t care. Arcade games were more Mike’s thing; guy kept playing ‘em till he got top score,” Six replied with a lazy shrug, “Was good for helping him practice split-second decision making to save his game lives and advance, which helped a shit-ton on the night shift when he had to manage cameras, lights, doors, all that shit. Better he got in the games, better he got with everything else.”

“The frontal lobe handled decision making and impulse control,” Cassie muttered, digging out her phone to flick through her bookmarks on articles about Mike Schmidt, “Guess video games where he’d face consequences of poor choices and acting on impulse forced him to adapt around that? And getting that injury as a kid meant he still had time to grow in other ways to make up for it. Re-path it in his brain, right?”

“That’s what the docs said,” the spirit told her, “I’m rolling with it. What do I know? I’m a Remnant spirit. All I know is ‘check camera systems’ and ‘protect Guards’. Anything else is above my pay grade.”

“Then I guess we can grab a few more boards and then go to Radical Eats?” Gregory returned cautiously. Six gestured dismissively at the arcade machines and he relaxed. “Okay, then let’s get a couple more and we’re done.”

Oswald finally let go of her hand to open another machine and Cassie blinked as the spirit faded from her view, along with the blue mist that coated the walls. Her palm felt clammy and cold, and she pouted at it. Why the heck was Oswald’s hand so sweaty? She wiped it off on the back of Gregory’s shirt, ignoring his startled yelp. Boys could be so gross sometimes.

The next machine had lots of good boards in it too, and Oswald pulled a few to add to his pile before closing the panel back up. “That should be enough,” he told them, “Don’t want it too heavy or I won’t be able to carry it.”

“I can do it, then. Swap backpacks?” Gregory offered, pulling off his own backpack and holding it out to Oswald. The exchange was made and Gregory was slinging on the full backpack easily, bouncing on his heels with a grin. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” Cassie agreed cheerfully, “I wanna eat lunch at your mom’s place. You still owe me for making me miss opening day.” She rolled her eyes in fond exasperation at the boys both waving their goodbyes to the empty air by the prize counter. Probably that spirit was still there, making sure they only took the parts. The air was still a bit chilly in the way her sweater didn’t ward off, so she was most likely right.

The cold didn’t really leave until the three of them were crawling through the ventilation tunnel back to Circus Baby’s side of the building.

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“And you’re not the one fixing these things because..?” Alex drawled out, gesturing with his hand for Gregory to fill in the blank as he and Cassie watched Oswald replace the damaged boards in the arcade machines with the spare parts.

“The Afton bitch uploaded William Afton’s knowledge of animatronic programming, engineering, and construction into my head,” Gregory replied dryly, poking himself in the forehead, “Last I checked, fixing Galaga wasn’t part of that crazy old man’s interests.”

“Does having someone else’s decades of knowledge planted in your brain count as the most over the top cheat sheet ever?” Cassie asked him curiously and Gregory shrugged.

“Wasn’t my idea to put it there, so can’t blame me for using it when I can’t tell if I learned it myself or just ‘remembered’ it was there to use,” he said and looked up at Alex, “Hey, since it’s your day off from Circus Baby’s, could you ask Freddy if he’s making lunch today? I promised my friends our pizza specials but Freddy’s the one who makes them.”

Alex groaned, slouching in place, “Man, I’m only here to get some takeout before I stream in an hour. It’s my day off from work but I still have other schedules to keep y’know?”

“You still gotta talk to Freddy to get your food,” Gregory pointed out with an unimpressed expression, “Ooh, you gotta say a few extra words to him. How scary~!” He wrinkled his nose at Alex reaching down to cover his face with his palm.

“Fine, fine, I’ll ask if you knock it off with being a twer-EW! What the fuck?!” he began replying in a flat tone before screeching in disgust and yanking his hand away. Gregory just smiled up at him, tongue out and on display. “Que tan mocoso la pinche lengua!” Alex quickly rubbed his palm on Gregory’s hair, ignoring the boy yelling and flailing to get him off, “Cochino! I don’t know what you’ve been doing with that tongue! Little kids stick all kinds of nasty stuff in their mouths!”

“Dude, we’re ten, not two,” Cassie pointed out with a huff, “Clearly you haven’t been around a lot of little kids.”

“Of course not, they give me the heebie-jeebies,” Alex told her and shuddered for effect, “Constantly dirty, and staring, endlessly staring, can they stop with the staring?”

“Sounds like repressed trauma. You should get that looked at,” Cassie suggested.

“Also time’s ticking. Ask Freddy about lunch. Chop chop,” Gregory chimed in and stuck his tongue out again, “Or I’ll lick your computer mouse next time you go to the bathroom.”

“Cochino,” Alex sniffed before his expression broke into a laughing grin, “You’re such a lil shit, you know that, right?”

“Like recognizes like,” Gregory replied, holding up his hands as finger guns. He waved as Alex rolled his eyes and walked off towards the kitchen. “I think he’s loosening up more lately. That’s good.” He smiled a little more hopefully before turning back to watch Oswald fix the first arcade machine.

Cassie nodded and sat by him on the little bench placed in the games corner of Radical Eats. She gave him a few minutes to relax and enjoy himself watching Oswald working away before speaking quietly, “So why didn’t you bring Mr. Schmidt’s things for Oz to check like we planned?” She could practically feel Gregory freezing in place.

“I just forgot, that’s all. Besides, fixing the machines here is way more important,” he stammered, his shoulders raising up in that defensive hunch. Cassie hummed at the response, nodding along.

Yeah, fixing them was important, but... “Isn’t finding the last relic important too?” she asked, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. “And the last drive for the original animatronics, too. We got Bonnie, Chica, Foxy.. we’re only missing Freddy Fazbear himself.” When Gregory didn’t rise to her bait, her grin faltered a bit. “Did.. did something happen to change your mind?” she asked carefully.

“No!” he blurted out, a faintly panicked expression on his face that quickly turned evasive, “I mean, no, I.. haven’t changed my mind. I just think we can take a little time before getting that last one. Give Six a break since dealing with me all the time can’t be good for his health, y’know?”

“He’s a ghost, Gregory,” Cassie told him with a flat expression, “He doesn’t have health.” She softened and nudged him with her shoulder again, “C’mon, for real now. Did Oz talk you out of it?”

“Oswald had nothin’ to do with me decidin’ to wait a little bit before getting that relic,” Gregory replied with a harsh sigh, but he leaned into her nudge and she smiled a little as she touched her temple to his in comfort. “There’s just something I gotta sort out first, before I look for that last relic and Freddy’s drive. That’s all.”

“Alright, but remember that me and Oz got your back if you need us,” Cassie told him.

She looked up as Oswald walked up to them, his jacket tied around his waist and a paper towel in his hands as he dried them off from washing up. He looked between them in concern, tilting his head questioningly and looking to Cassie for answers.

“Putting a pause on looking for the last relic,” she said and pointed to the empty space on Gregory’s other side, “Operation: Comfort Sandwich is a go!”

Oswald nodded and hopped onto the bench with them, scooting over to press his own shoulder to Gregory’s in silent solidarity. With him tucked between them it wasn’t long before the smaller boy let tension bleed out. “So, that’s all three of your arcade machines fixed up,” Oswald began casually, bringing up the repairs to give Gregory a new topic to latch onto. “There’s still a lot of parts leftover that can be used in case of breakdowns, so I stashed them in the back room you have here before washing my hands. I’ll ask my dad to help me write out a bill so you can give it to your mom, okay?”

“Yeah, that’ll be good. Thanks, Oz,” Gregory murmured with a grateful smile. “And I promise, next time, I’ll remember to bring Mike’s stuff for you to look at.”

“Ah, no rush,” Oswald remarked with a shrug, “Doesn’t look like Fazbear Entertainment is in any hurry to pull some weird trick on us or this town, so we probably have time to focus on other stuff. Like actually making those new animatronics for the old Fazband to get installed into.”

“Oh, yeah, we can do that,” Gregory said in a more lively tone, warming up to the idea, “You guys’ll actually help me rebuild them?”

“My dad was a Fazbear technician, so I know how to use some of the tools, if we can get our hands on Fazbear Entertainment tech,” Cassie told them proudly, puffing up her chest, her hands on her hips.

“I can fix broken stuff and find compatible parts pretty easy thanks to my dad teaching me stuff,” Oswald added with a grin, “And we can always do some dumpster diving behind this Pizzaplex place for any parts to start building with.”

“Yeah,” Gregory agreed, sitting back on the bench in a more relaxed pose, “I still gotta get back in there anyway to try and get the rest of the Glamrocks’ programming chips.” Oswald made a face at that and Gregory chuckled. “Shouldn’t be too bad in there. It’ll be a big mess, but Circus Baby hijacked control of the network so everything should be offline except for the Glamrocks.”

“Then let’s plan for a trip to the Pizzaplex!” Cassie exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air as the boys cheered with her, one excitedly, the other with a lot less exuberance. And if she was right, maybe working on the old Fazband for a little while will refresh Gregory’s determination to get that Freddy drive. At least, she hoped so.

[valence-gnome-bandit]

every god needs an imp

notes: this is my first fic ever sorry if my presentation isn't very polished! also not sure about teenage kix in the show but instead of just making them a hero team I figured why not make it a show in the style of bad girls club or Jersey shore? teen titans but with hair pulling and alcohol. anyways that's the preface to how A-train and eccentrica met their bother former teenage kix members.

summary: homelander needed one thing, a tool. a tinker toy to carry out his more wild whims that the deep/A-train or the new recruits couldn't.finally after endless searching through files upon files he finds a perfect candidate.besides every king needs a jester, every hero needs a sidekick, every god needs an imp.

"teenage kix." Ashley looked up from the file folder grasped between shivering fingers eyes locked nervously on homelander and his hateful glare.

"absolutely not why in the every loving fuck would I choose anyone off that circus of a team? I mean A-train was the last remotely decent hero to come out of that voyeuristic Bullshit TV show. come on Ashley get your shit together." he didn't move one inch sitting ankles crossed in the chair in front of her desk chin rested on his clenched fist like an pouting child.

"well- well actually sir there has been one more promising member..." the (now fake) red head slid the file over to homelander the page resting on top a vought branded hero file with an attached image of the supe in question.

Ashley began to speak as homelander analyzed the portfolio, "Eccentrica Magica, 5'8, 160 pounds, only 24, replaced A-trains slot on the show when he aged out. premiered at fifteen and became a hit, once she left the show she started a residency at the MGM Grand."

she was a fucking magician?

homelander dropped the file on the desk before pressing the palms of his red leather gloves over his eyes letting a hissing sigh out through his teeth. "you really expect me to put a god damn magician in the final spot on the seven?" he practically growled his words out, he could hear Ashley's already racing heart jump nervously.

"well she is very talented-" she started but was immediately cut off."I don't care if she's "talented" I need someone to fight not pull a fuckin' rabbit out of hat!" he stood up rolling his eyes teeth pulled back over his teeth in a grimace of annoyance and rage. hands found their way into a fold one gripping the other as he paced trying his best not to laser Ashley's stupid face off. two hours of this bullshit going through applications of pre established supes for the empty spot in the seven.

"really homelander she's a good option, she has super strength plus she can remotely teleport! plus she already has a strong fanbase and she's attractive," Ashley's mutterings about this eccentrica magica was tuned out as soon as he heard the words remote teleportation. sure sure anyone could teleport, but having control like that to so much training it wasn't worth it. she could be useful she could just teleport butcher right into the space for him! besides if the deep was in the seven, well that was comparing an intern to loan shark.

He snapped back pacing back to the folder on the desk as Ashley continued chattering, endlessly chattering. his thumb and index fingers gripped the photo of eccentrica, she smirked at the camera with a manic charm he found reminiscent of the Cheshire cat fitting for her powers. his big blue eyes wandered up the picture tracing the round curve of her face pale, soft, unmarred skin a sign of her invulnerability right up to the best part her eyes. framed by light brown feathery bangs and eyebrows raised only making her big glowing purple doe eyes all the more god damn startling.

"besides she has an in! A-train has met her an confirmed she's a good candidate plus again shes literally the last file in the stack." Ashley smiled at him eyes flicking between homelander and the massive stack of files sitting to her right hand.

homelander let out a small huff, "fine I'll take the magician." now, to meet this little imp and see if she was as useful as he needed her to be.

thank you for reading <3

[sparklingmusicofstars]

Black Butler : Theory about Ciel Phantomhive's twin real name

Hi everyone, as a black butler's fan, I wanted to write a theory about what all the fans wonder : what's Ciel Phantomhive twin's true name ?

PS : In the texte, I will call him "the twin"

Ever since we found out that there was not one but two Phantomhive children, everyone has wanted to know the name of the character we've been following since the beginning of the story, if not 'Ciel Phantomhive'.

Most of us began to suspect that there were twins in the circus arc, in Baron Kelvin's flashbacks to his meeting with Vincent and "his" son.

At the right ; the twin

But from Ciel's twin point of view

The two are clearly visible.

I don't understand why Vincent always mentions "his" child and not "his children".

From chap 32 ; He mentions that it was "Ciel" who was ill, whereas it was his twin. Maybe he just got them mixed up. After all, the twin himself mentioned that they looked so much alike that even their parents confused them.

I wonder if Baron Kelvin knew there were two of them... He mentioned three people, and I doubt he was talking about Claus, since he was mostly fascinated by the Phantomhives. And without wanting to offend anyone, I wouldn't rank the beauty of Claus on the same level as the Phantomhives. So I think he knew.

To be honest, it's almost as if no-one apart from those very close to Vincent knew he had twins.

In addition, there seem to be almost no photos of the two twins together. Pet seemed to have the only one, he even mentioned, in the same chapter, that it was the first time he saw them together in the same place. (the twins were still 7 years old !) Plus Pet seems to know Vincent well so I guess they've known each other for a long time. And of course, for the sake of the plot, no one says the twin's name. Usually they are together so people say "both of you" or "you two"

Yet Vincent does not seem to hide it, the servants and the inhabitants of their county were all aware. Vincent even makes them go out together in their domain. What's more, they didn't have the same personnality at all. So if you know them, you can't confuse them anymore.

This moment made me hate Elizabeth's mother a lot, she calls Ciel's twin "his spare" and not him as a person, so I feel like she cares more about the bloodline of the Phantomhives than Ciel's twin, as she claims. Which reinforced Ciel's twin's inferiority complex.

From chap 132: Then came the time when they visited the pastor; Vincent said it was his wife who had named his children.

The pastor replies that the two children have unusual names, for England anyway. So "Ciel" and ...

Vincent responds effectively that he was scolded for not having given them more traditional names but that they are perhaps more suited to a not so distant future. Vincent is such a mysterious person...

We will now move on to the subject that interests you: the name of the twin.

To make this theory I have long looked for clues in the manga, as well as for certain Japanese cultures. I also investigated the tastes and personality of Yana Toboso a little. (don't ask me about it). According to the arc of Sirius, the longest because it is not yet finished, the nickname of the real Ciel is "Sirius the blue star" I personally think that the name of the twin is French, like his brother, if I decompose; "Sirius" the blood group, "the star" (?) and "blue" a bit the color that symbolizes them and can also be their favorite color. I think there is a clue. We have "star" left, I don't think that's his name so I would put something like "Astre".

At one point, the real Ciel mentioned to Polaris that he was no longer Lord Sirius but his little brother. I have long wondered if there was a hidden meaning behind those words besides what he really meant.

I finally finished it !!!!!! I hope you liked it.

PS: None of them are my translations so the credits don't belong to me. You can read the chapters in mangafox.com.

[hes-striker]

Crap …things just got bad there’s shark goons everywhere there looking for moxxie crimson somehow found out about the baby.

The first light of morning filters through the thin blinds, casting soft lines across the cramped apartment. Striker stirs on the couch, a dull ache lingering from the fight with Stolas and last night’s intense “argument”. Blitzø is still asleep, one arm dangling off the couch.

Striker sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he takes in his surroundings—a bit cramped, worn-out furniture, but oddly…comfortable. He hadn’t planned on staying, but after the tension of last night, it had somehow felt natural to crash here.

He glances toward the small kitchen, feeling the gnawing of hunger, a new staple of his mornings these days. He gets up carefully, trying not to wake Blitzø, and starts to make a quick breakfast. A little noise might be payback, though, he thinks with a smirk.

After a few minutes, the smell of coffee and sizzling bacon wafts through the apartment. Right on cue, Blitzø rolls off the couch. He rubs his eyes, giving Striker a groggy but curious look.

Blitzø: *raising an eyebrow* Since when are you a breakfast-making kinda guy?

Striker: *shrugs, flipping the bacon* I got my moments. Besides, figure I owe ya somethin’ after last night.

There’s a quiet pause as they eat, an unspoken truce in the air. Blitzø doesn’t bring up last night’s fight or the mission, and neither does Striker. For now, they’re just enjoying the morning peace—though neither of them would admit how much they’re starting to get used to it.

After breakfast, Striker and Blitzø head to the I.M.P. office. They enter to find Loona sprawled across the couch, fast asleep, one earbud dangling out and her tail flicking occasionally as she snores softly. Moxxie and Millie are seated at Blitzø's desk, deep in conversation with a new client—a tall, gaunt demon with an air of nervousness about him.

Millie: *grinning at them* Morning, y'all!

Moxxie: *noticing them enter* Oh, uh, good morning, Sir! Striker. We’re just going over the details of a…*glances at the client*…unique job request.

Blitzø: So, what's so "unique" about this gig that you need the whole circus here?

The client clears his throat, his voice shaky as he glances between Blitzø and Striker, who’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

Client: *nervously* I…uh…need your team to take care of a… *whispers* very…delicate matter. My ex-partner's been causing…problems. I was hoping you could, well…*makes a slicing motion across his throat*…handle it.

Striker: *snorts, muttering to Blitzø* Got ourselves another heartbreak case, huh? How romantic.

Blitzø: *smirking, leans in* Well, lucky for you, you came to the right place. We specialize in getting rid of “delicate matters.” *pauses, glancing at Striker* Maybe even very delicate ones.

Striker rolls his eyes, shifting his weight as he looks anywhere but at Blitzø, trying to ignore the knowing smirk aimed his way. He catches Millie and Moxxie exchanging a glance but decides not to bite.

Client: *hands Blitzø a photo of his ex* I’ll, uh, leave the details up to you.

Blitzø: *snatching the photo and tucking it away* Perfect. We’ll take good care of your little problem. *grins* Mil, let's suit up. Striker, you and Mox stay here. Loona! Watch over the preggos! We’ll be back!

As soon as the door slams shut behind Blitzø and Millie, the supposed "client" drops their disguise, their form flickering to reveal a smug, well-dressed imp, flanked by a crew of demons who spill into the office like shadows. Loona lazily lifts her head, rolling her eyes, clearly unimpressed—but she quickly realizes there’s more going on when she spots the array of weapons the mafia crew’s carrying.

“Client” Imp: *smirking* Ain't this a quaint little setup? Makes our job a whole lot easier.

Moxxie, who had been reviewing paperwork, looks up, eyes widening. He instinctively steps in front of Striker, who’s just starting to register the danger himself. The two share a quick, worried glance.

Moxxie: *frowning, keeping his voice steady* Now hold on a minute. Who are you guys?

Imp: *chuckles, signaling his men* Your father Crimson has as requested your presence Moxxie.

Moxxie: *eyes widen* Wait what?!

Soon, the demons swarm forward, grabbing Moxxie and Striker despite their attempts to fight back. Striker manages to land a solid kick on one of them, but his movements are slower, more cautious with his condition. One of the thugs clamps a hand on Moxxie’s shoulder, twisting his arm back painfully, forcing him to stop struggling.

Striker: *snarling, attempting to break free* I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but this ain't gonna end well for you!

Loona, who had watched the scene unfold with growing annoyance, finally stands up from the couch, rolling her eyes.

Loona: *sighs* You know, if you’re gonna kidnap them, could you do it without wrecking the place? I already gotta deal with enough of their mess.

Imp: *smirking* Don’t worry, pup, we’re not here for you. Just these two *he gestures to Moxxie and Striker* who are gonna be joinin' us for a little… extended vacation.

With one last smirk, he snaps his fingers, and the mafia crew hustles Moxxie and Striker out the door, leaving Loona standing in the now eerily silent office, glaring after them.

[welcometothefreakshowcircus]

Freakshow Backstory, Chapter 1

It was a crisp, quiet, late summer night. Besides the sound of the ground crunching beneath her feet, it was virtually silent. Her subtle tears streaked her face, occasionally dripping off of her chin. As she walked, it felt as if time had stopped. The redhead wondered to herself if traveling any further was worth it. Amanita dragged her feet against the ground as she walked, sulking. Feeling fatigued she could barely keep moving forward, let alone keep her eyes open. She regretted running away from home. Even though she was 18 and able to go as she pleased, she had no job, no car, and nowhere else to go. 

“Dying out here is better than dying in that house…” Amanita thought to herself. Leaning against trees for stability, She peered into the darkness engulfing the forest. She had a flashlight, but the batteries had died earlier on in the trip. She was cursing herself for being so stupidly unprepared for this. Her energy was depleting as she moved forward. Every grassy step felt like she was counting sheep, her mind going adrift. All she wanted was to be able to sleep in a nice, comfy, warm bed. She laid her head against a tree, basically hugging it to stay upright. Blinking her eyes softly, She briefly saw a figure deep in the woods. Amanita instantly opened her eyes, panicking about what she just saw. She looked around, squinting her eyes, but she couldn’t see anything in the dark. 

Her heart raced, “Was that just my imagination?” She pondered. It wasn’t. She could sense someone or something was there, watching her. Her breathing got faster, She felt like she was in fight or flight mode. She reached into her backpack to get her switchblade, holding it tightly in her fist. Trying to clear her mind, she scanned over the abundance of trees. She squinted her eyes when she saw two noctilucent orbs through the trees. shocked and confused, she called out to the light. assuming it was someone with a flashlight, well, two flashlights.

“Hello?” Amanita blurted out, trying to make herself sound loud so as to appear more threatening. “Is anybody out here?...” She tried to steady her breathing, but anxiety had a chokehold on her.

Then, she saw it- him again. She froze like a deer in headlights, her breath was taken away and her heart fell into her stomach. The man-creature moved towards her, she could see the outline of him. A man with a top hat for a head, with glowing white orbs for eyes, snappily dressed in a suit in tie. His teeth peaking out of the inky blackness of his tophat-head, curving into a depraved looking smile. Amanita accidentally looked him in the eyes, causing him to stare right back into her eyes. Her mind was racing. She couldn’t run, she couldn’t fight, she couldn’t hide. All she could do was stay still, immobilized by her fear. Sensing her tension, The inky black creature cleared its throat, took a bow and reached out for her hand. 

“Hello Darling” he motioned to kiss her hand with his non-existent lips. “You called for me?”

Amanita wanted to pull her hand away, to run, to say something. All she could do is stare in absolute terror. 

“What is a beauteous young woman such as yourself doing out here by yourself?” the lanky creature questioned, bending over to meet his face to hers.

“It's dangerous out here, you know…” the heat of his breath lingered across her face.

“Oh, Don’t be so afraid, I won’t bite” He spoke again, Straightening himself back up and dusting off his suit “Or maybe I will” He chuckled to himself. It appeared like he was trying to break the ice.

Her body stood still as she stared down at the ground, she didn’t want to even look at it. she still couldn’t get herself to say anything. Her lips parted but no words came.

“Not a talker, eh?” he fiddled with his arm cuff “Most people would have ran by now”

He pulled a business card out of his cuff, Handing it to her. She reluctantly took the business card, which had a grainy photo of a circus on it with only one word on it. ‘RINGLEADER’

Amanita started to question his name, but he shoved his finger against her lips to shush her. He moved closer to her, whispering in her ear “It’s a secret” 

Amanita blushed, but not out of any romantic feelings, she felt embarrassed and still intimidated by the figure. Not to mention his breath on her face was just… gross. She blinked, he was gone from her vision. She looked around paranoid, was that all a pseudo-dream? She jumped when she heard thunder off in the distance

All of the sudden, It started pouring down. Getting completely soaked from the rain. She watched as the ringleader came back, with an umbrella 

“Come with me” He said frantically

“What?” Amanita questioned

“Come with me, quickly, I’ll get you out of the rain.” He reached his hand out to her, with his menacing grin plastered all over his fac- I mean, hat.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

[ prompt ] [ inbox ] // @staydown-bro -> ❝ don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t quite look well. ❞ (Clint/Kate please!)

Wait, when did she get here? She's the hardest person to lie to.

Eyes flit around his apartment. Curtain was drawn over the investigation board, right? Or better to be called a visual representation of what his mental state was like. He needed to take it down, all of that was over with. He hadn't even called her when the barrage of texts came in after.... Bryce had died. After, Bullseye took his Ronin suit and if the man managed to crawl away with several arrows in him, than maybe no one knew how badly Clint had fucked him right back up in the Bullseye costume.

Almost went eye for an eye. It would have been easy, already know what it's like to have killed someone with an arrow now. A shiver runs down his spine and if Kate was not standing above him, he'd reach for one of the bottles around him, see if there was some residual liquid left. There's not too many of those lying around, right? Nor does it look like he's been crashing wherever he can get the sleep. Couch, floor, bed. The occasional nap in the blood stained basement, the day he had cleaned up had been hard to stomach.

The last time she had texted him had came as a surprise given his choice in not calling her. The stream of texts fro her telling him that she had hated the circus had came in without explanation and the closest thing he got to an explanation of what was happening with her was a picture of Lucky chewing on a tesseract.

❝ It's my day off? ❞ Considering everyone was angry at him again, and he had been ignoring everyone; it's not like he was getting any work besides street-level solo busts. ❝ New York doesn't have the same sun as California, it's terrible for the complexion. ❞

Clint knew he didn't look like he was doing too well, but when was that ever case? It had felt like it had been years since he had caught a break. From killing Bruce Banner to the Bryce dying because of him, it's been a rough couple of years. Shoot, being in the WC with Kate's team of Avengers felt removed from that timeline, he kind of missed it a lot.

❝ Hawkeye, good to see you. ❞ He signs that along with his words, because it's always felt more genuine to communicate like that. Reason number seven of why Kate's his favorite person, she can sign with him.

❝ Wanna grab a coffee, Katie? ❞ Quickly he was moving on to make this about her, moving to crouch and pet Lucky since it had been while since he had seen him outside of Kate's photos. ❝ Go down to that bakery, it's still open, thank fuck after what Carnage's symbiotes did, and you can tell me about how much you hate the circus? ❞

[pages-of-us]

The Christmas Trip

Twice a year, the Zane family made their way to Colorado to visit Ralph’s parents. Unlike Andrew’s extended family gatherings, which were formal and stiff (thanks in no small part to Great Aunt Viola’s scrutinizing gaze), the Vleugels household was vibrant, warm, and brimming with love. The house was large but unassuming, nestled in a quiet neighborhood where everyone knew everyone.

When Ralph and Andrew pulled up the driveway with the kids in tow, the front door burst open, and Ralph’s parents, Mrs. and Mr. Vleugels, emerged, their smiles wide and welcoming.

“Halmeoni! Harabeoji!” Yazmin shrieked, leaping out of the car and bolting toward her grandparents.

“Yazzie!” Mrs. Vleugels opened her arms just in time to catch Yazmin, who barreled into her with the force of a tiny tornado. “Oh, my sweet girl, look at you! Have you gotten taller?”

“Probably not,” Ellias mumbled under his breath as he grabbed his backpack from the car.

“Ellias, behave,” Andrew said firmly, though his lips twitched with amusement.

Elliot, always the quiet one, walked up to greet his grandparents with a polite bow. “Hi, Halmeoni. Hi, Harabeoji. It’s good to see you again.”

Ralph’s father grinned and ruffled Elliot’s hair. “You boys getting ready to beat your uncle Gunho at games again?”

Ellias perked up. “Wait—he’s here?”

“He’s setting up the console right now,” Mr. Vleugels replied.

Ellias and Elliot exchanged a look before darting into the house, their backpacks forgotten on the porch.

Andrew lingered by the car, stretching his back after the long drive. Ralph sidled up beside him, sliding an arm around his waist. “Ready to be smothered?”

“I’d like to see them try,” Andrew teased, though his voice carried warmth.

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

Inside, the Vleugels home was a sensory overload of nostalgia and comfort. The living room smelled faintly of vanilla from the cookies Mrs. Vleugels had baked, and soft Korean music played from the stereo. Framed photos of Ralph and Gunho as children adorned the walls, alongside new pictures of the Zane kids, sent religiously by Andrew every few months.

Mrs. Vleugels immediately turned her attention to Andrew. “Andrew, my sweet son, you’re too skinny again! Are you even eating?”

Andrew chuckled, holding up his hands. “I promise I’m eating, Halmeoni.”

“Not enough!” she declared, ushering him to the couch. “Sit. Eat. You must be starving after that drive.”

Despite his protests, a plate of cookies appeared in Andrew’s lap within seconds. Yazmin giggled from her perch beside her grandmother, sneaking cookies off his plate.

“You know,” Yazmin declared, crumbs dusting her cheeks, “you’re my favorite grandma.”

“Am I?” Mrs. Vleugels asked, feigning surprise.

Yazmin nodded vigorously. “Dadda’s family is kind of...uh…” She paused, searching for the right word.

“Intense?” Ralph supplied from the doorway.

Yazmin grinned. “Yeah, intense! But you’re fun.”

Mrs. Vleugels laughed, her hand on Yazmin’s cheek. “And you’re my ray of sunshine.”

Andrew, quietly observing the exchange, smiled softly. His mind wandered to how different this was from his own family’s holiday gatherings, where formality ruled. Here, the conversation flowed naturally, and no one ever had to hide their true selves.

A little while later, Mr. Vleugels, who usually sat in comfortable silence, leaned toward Andrew. The older man had always been a man of few words, but today he seemed particularly eager to speak. “I have something for you, Andrew,” he said, his thick accent giving his words a certain gravitas.

Andrew looked up, surprised. “Oh, you didn’t have to—”

But Mr. Vleugels waved him off. He handed Andrew a small, carefully wrapped package.

Opening it, Andrew found a novel—The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern—and a small book on writing. He blinked in surprise. “You remembered that I write?”

Mr. Vleugels nodded slowly. “You have a way with words. I thought you’d enjoy this.”

Andrew was touched. He had always admired Mr. Vleugels’ quiet wisdom. “Thank you, Harabeoji. This means a lot.”

Ralph, who had been listening in, smiled at his father’s gesture. “See? Told you they get you, princess.”

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

In the basement, Ellias and Elliot were awestruck by Uncle Gunho’s gaming setup: neon-lit keyboards, a massive monitor, and a collection of games so vast it could rival a store.

“Whoa,” Ellias whispered. “You’re like...a gaming god.”

Gunho smirked. “Runs in the family. You boys ready to play?”

Ralph wandered in, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this? Gunho, don’t tell me you’re corrupting my kids already.”

“Already?” Gunho shot back. “They’re naturals. Bet they’ve got your skills.”

Elliot glanced at Ralph. “Wait, Daddy, you’re good at games?”

Ralph shrugged nonchalantly. “I used to be decent. Had to give it up when life got busy.”

Gunho snorted. “Decent? You used to wipe the floor with me, hyung.”

Ellias and Elliot turned to Ralph, their eyes wide.

“Daddy, you have to play with us!”

Ralph hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s been years…”

Moments later, Ralph was in the middle of an intense match, his sons shouting instructions on either side. Gunho, for once, was on the losing end.

“Daaaaaaad!” Gunho groaned as Ralph claimed another victory. “Why are you like this?”

Ellias high-fived his father. “You’re awesome, Daddy!”

Elliot nodded. “Definitely cooler than Uncle Gunho.”

Gunho threw a pillow at Elliot, laughing.

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

When dinner rolled around, the table was laden with steaming bowls of kimchi jjigae, platters of bulgogi, and side dishes that seemed endless. Andrew was already full from the snacks Mrs. Vleugels had insisted he eat earlier, but she was relentless.

“Andrew, try this. And this. Oh, you have to taste this one!”

“Halmeoni, I’m going to explode,” Andrew said, his voice strained but amused.

“Good!” she replied cheerfully. “That means you’ll have enough energy to chase after Yazmin!”

Ralph leaned over, grinning. “Told you this would happen.”

Andrew shot him a look but couldn’t help smiling.

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

Later that night, after the kids had gone to bed, Ralph and Andrew sat on the back porch with Ralph’s parents. Gunho had joined them, a rare moment when the whole family could relax.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my life,” Andrew admitted, leaning back in his chair.

Mrs. Vleugels laughed. “That’s how you know you’re loved.”

Gunho nodded. “I don’t get why hyung doesn’t bring you guys more often. You’re way more fun than he is.”

“Hey!” Ralph protested, though his arm was draped comfortably around Andrew’s shoulders.

Andrew smiled, his heart full. This was what family should feel like—warm, welcoming, and full of love. Here, in Colorado, he never doubted his place.

From the house, a faint giggle echoed, followed by Yazmin’s unmistakable voice.

“She’s still awake,” Andrew sighed.

“She always is,” Ralph replied.

Andrew rested his head on Ralph’s shoulder. “This trip was a good idea.”

“It always is with you guys,” Ralph murmured, his voice soft with affection.

[abybweisse]

Polaris is not Agni

I've blogged against it before -- the idea of Agni being Polaris. The main reason I say it's impossible is because Lord Polaris is already dead and reanimated/being worked on before Agni even dies. Lord Polaris is the one who actually kills Agni, as best I can tell, so they can't be the same person.

Lord Polaris is a highly advanced bizarre doll and has type A blood (Polaris). This butler's reanimation has been in the works nearly as long as real Ciel's, if not longer... despite Undertaker saying this started with him gathering real Ciel's body. By then, he might have had a body for Lord Polaris in his possession, but he didn't have a plan really coming together until he also had real Ciel's body. I really hope that Undertaker explains the timeline and his choices for making the other lords of the stars. Besides the fact they (together) represent the four main blood types in the ABO grouping system (and how it's relatively easy to create a cult around the four mysterious people).

One possible scenario

Undertaker goes to the still-smoldering ruins of Phantomhive Manor and collects the remains of all the bodies he can find. Either that, or all the remains are sent to him by Scotland Yard... and/or released to his custody by the next of kin or something, like Francis. He reports his findings for the official records. Then he keeps the bodies of those that have not been destroyed by the fire. At the time, it might be for the early experiments he'd already been conducting. This could include any of the butlers employed by Vincent, like this guy, as mentioned in this reblog:

About a month later, Undertaker manages to find real Ciel, but he has also recently died. Our earl shows up, back at Phantomhive Manor, but he's got a demon dressed as a butler. So, Undertaker focuses on real Ciel's body and starts making all these weird schemes to improve upon his reanimation techniques. Recall that he just says his reanimation skills weren't up to snuff; that reinforces the fact that this is a refocus of previous reanimation experiments on a new project. But, instead of it being mere curiosity, now it's very personal.

Then the Noah's Ark Circus is investigated, and our earl might be the one who really brings Undertaker's attention to Baron Kelvin. Undertaker waits for our earl and Sebastian (and William and Ronald) to move along before he collects Doll's body, which he can get without having to enter the burning building.

Sphere Music Hall is the first blood supply facility that our earl and Sebastian discover, but the other ones (Yorkshire, Norfolk, Wiltshire, and Brighton) might have been started around the same time or even slightly earlier. Could be that they took a while to set up and for them to become productive. The music hall in London is simply the one that draws the public's attention, so it's the one that lures our earl in, too.

I suspect that whenever Undertaker sets up a facility at Baron Heathfield's place, he's asked (as part of the deal) to help Heathfield with his dead daughter, too... not just his wife. And so I think that's how Undertaker gets Layla/Al. Layla could definitely have been Heathfield's daughter.

If you look closely at the image of the family photo, there's something behind her right arm that could either be a fold in her dress or actually long hair that's mostly hidden. This (highlighted red):

Given the rest of the shapes, I think it could be hair. And the reason why she tends to wear two bows now might be because she can't make up her mind which to wear, even after asking Al. Why Al is there and when they showed up are also major questions. Did Undertaker experiment on her to test adding an extra soul? Or did he agree to help Heathfield with her after seeing for himself that she already has this extra personality (or soul) in her? I'm leaning towards the idea that she was already like that, and Undertaker thought she would be good to study. Here's a blog thread that talks about Layla's possible origins as Heathfield's daughter.

This is, of course, just one scenario, but it could be that some parts are right and others... not quite.

A Disturbing Thought...

It's only just occurred to me we do have a dead butler who could be brought back like Doll...I'm not sure how I feel about the voice behind the star's door being Agni, all stitched up, covered with nasty looking veins, working against Ciel and Sebastian, playing for the 'other team'. If the fandom hates him now, how do you think they're going to feel about Sebastian when he has to pop the khansama's head off his shoulders?!

Has this occurred to anyone else? We're a few months away from returning to Ciel and his butler at that hotel. Are we going to encounter Agni there, perhaps acting as butler to the other brother, spouting all sorts of declarations about how, as a butler, he'd got to do this and that?

I'm hoping someone like Abybeweiss @abybweisse will come along here and reply to this with a bloody good reason why that couldn't possibly happen.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter Eight: Family Dinner (Pranks/Dad Jokes)

Prev

AO3

Bruce Wayne was not an emotional man. In fact, his emotional capability had once been compared to that of a teaspoon. He had emotions, obviously, but he didn’t express them. Or rather, he wasn’t sure how to express them. But staring down at the photo album in front of him, it was almost painful having no way to express his emotions. It was the most thoughtful gift he had ever received, and it was one that he would treasure forever. He didn’t have baby pictures of his other children. Dick’s were lost at some point while he was still with Haley’s Circus. Jason’s were lost when he had to live on the street. Tim...well, there were a few pictures of Tim. But they were all highly staged school pictures. And those didn’t start until kindergarten. And Damian….Talia wasn’t ever the type to be sentimental. Which meant there were no baby pictures of him either. But Marinette...her entire life had been catalogued. From sonograms, to her first Christmas and the first competition she won. Everything was laid out in order. Bruce turns back to the start of the book, prepared to close it, when an envelope catches his eye. He wasn’t focused on it when he first opened the book. He glances at Marinette and quirks an eyebrow. She frowns.

“Oh, that. Um, it’s the letter that Bridgette wrote to you. I haven’t actually read it, Maman said she hasn’t either. Your name was on the front and apparently she felt awkward opening a letter not addressed to her even with the situation and-” She stops talking, taking a deep breath before smiling. “Sorry. But, you can read it, if you want. I thought you might want to have it.”

“Thank you, Marinette.” He says, smiling slightly. He tries not to laugh when her face lights up seeing him smile. Note, try and show emotions more around Marinette, he thinks. Sitting back on his chair, he opens the envelope and stares down at the letter he should’ve received fourteen years ago.

Dear Bruce…

---

Marinette lets out a sigh of relief as Mr. Wayne sits to read the letter. Tugging Adrien over to her brothers and plopping down on the loveseat, she smiles.

“So Marinette, I noticed the last time you were here you had a sketchbook. Do you draw a lot?” Dick asks, eyeing the lack of space between her and Adrien. Marinette resists the urge to glare at her brother. Was he seriously plotting some way to get her and Adrien away from each other right now? After Mr. Wayne had invited him? Seriously?

“Well, kinda.” She answers, pulling out her mini sketchbook from her purse. “I actually design clothes. So I draw, but it’s mostly clothes. Sometimes I’ll sketch architecture or flowers or something for inspiration but..” She trails off, tentatively passing her sketchbook to Dick. She watches, bouncing her leg as the awkward silence stretches on while Dick looks at the sketchbook with Tim and Jason glancing over his shoulders. And Cass standing behind the couch was also looking at the sketches. Trying not to feel awkward the longer the silence stretches, Marinette jumps as Tim starts choking on his coffee. He jumps towards her and she yelps, leaping off the loveseat and to the side in order to avoid him.

“What the hell Replacement?” Jason huffs. Tim ignores him, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” He says.

“Language, Master Tim. Dinner is ready.” Alfred says, popping out of nowhere.

“What do you mean it’s me?” Marinette asks, taking her sketchbook back and stuffing it back into her purse.

“You’re MDC!” Tim practically yells, waving his (not empty) coffee cup around, barely missing dumping it on her head.

“Um, yes?” She says, confused at his level of excitement.

“How are you not freaking out about this?” Tim asks, turning to Dick and Jason who were trying to get him to follow them to the dining room. Key word being trying.

“Am I supposed to?” Dick asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Richard Grayson! As a fellow Jagged Stone fan you cannot tell me that you don’t recognize the name of his personal designer!” Tim yells. Dick’s eyes widen in realization, turning to Marinette with a shocked smile.

“Wait, that’s you? Marinette, that’s amazing! I knew your sketches were good, but wow. That’s just- wow!” Dick says, his entire face filled with pride. Marinette laughs awkwardly, her face heating up with all the attention. It was….a lot. But also nice.

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t done an entire tour wardrobe yet, but I’m proud of the pieces that I have done.” She says.

“Terribly sorry, but it might be nice if we moved our conversations to the dining room.” Alfred says, a twinge of amusement clear on his face. Marinette glances over at Mr. Wayne who was still frozen, clutching the letter from her birth mother. She looks at Alfred and raises an eyebrow. He simply shakes his head and motions for her to go on. Sighing, she nods and follows her brothers (and Adrien, who was suddenly in an intense conversation with Tim about Jagged Stone) to the dining room. As they walk into the dining room, Marinette darts around Dick to snag the seat on the other side of Adrien. Tim sitting on one side of Adrien was fine. Adrien stuck between Tim and Dick? Not fine. She gives Dick a look, and he just smiles innocently before walking around and taking the seat across from Adrien. Should’ve seen that one coming. Once everyone is seated (besides Mr. Wayne, who had sent Alfred back in and instructed everyone to start without him) the conversations taper off, leaving the dining room in an awkward silence.

“Marinette, I have a very serious question for you.” Dick says, his smile telling her that the chances of it actually being a ‘very serious’ question are slim to none.

“Okay, sure.”

“Where do fruits go on vacation?” He asks, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Pear-is!” Marinette just blinks at him. That was almost as bad as-

“Oh my god! That was amazing!” Adrien cheers, laughing so hard he has to set his fork down. Oh god. There’s two of them.

“Really?” Dick asks, his face bright. Oh dear god please no.

“Oh yeah. That joke was pun-derful.” Adrien replies with a snort. Please god. Make it stop.

“I’m glad you think so. Everyone else seems a bit pun-sive.” Dick replies. That’s it. She’d willingly give Hawkmoth her Miraculous if it meant she could leave this dinner and the awful jokes happening. She’d even listen to her Papa’s jokes for an entire hour. As long as she could leave this cursed dinner. The sudden blaring from both her phone and Adrien’s makes her jump, and her eyes widen. Okay, no. She didn’t say the thing about the Miraculous out loud, so she doesn’t actually have to give it up, right? No, it’s fine. Taking it back won’t lead to anything crazy, right?

“Uh, I’m gonna run to the bathroom.” Marinette says, jumping up, frowning at Adrien as he jumps up with her.

“Me too!” He says. Marinette frowns. Way to make it obvious, Kitty.

“I’m fine, I can go to the bathroom by myself.” She insists, rushing off to the bathroom before Adrien can argue. She’d figure something out.

---

Dick raises an eyebrow at Adrien’s shocked face.

“Did you need to go to the bathroom? We have more than one bathroom.” He says, worried that maybe the kid’s shocked face wasn’t because of Marinette’s hasty departure and instead because he really needed the bathroom.

“Oh. Um. No, I’m fine. Apparently.” He mutters the last word, dropping down into his seat and staring at his plate. Dick could see the boy’s hands twitching towards his phone like he wanted to check it, but was afraid of being rude. He was about to tell him that it was okay to check his phone when a blue circle of light appeared over the table. An arm covered in red spandex with black spots sticks out of the light (portal) and grabs Adrien by the front of his shirt. Before anyone can stop the arm, Adrien is through the portal. Gone. Well shit.

“Where are Adrien and Marinette?” Bruce asks, walking into the room and frowning at the empty chairs. Well shit!

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @imarivers8

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Nightcrawler and the Princess

Kurt Wagner x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Being the princess of a small kingdom has its perks. However, you’re not sure this is a secret you can share with the rest of your friends…

Note: Did I make this a subtle crossover with the Princess Diaries? Yes. Yes I did. Don’t worry about it.

Reader is: Female

Warnings: Swears

Word Count: 1.8k

You carried the large box to the lunch table and set it there, in the middle of your friend group. Jean eyed it curiously.

“What’s that?”

“Care package from my mom.” You replied, using the pair of scissors you kept in your school bag to cut open the packing tape. “She said there’s stuff for the rest of you in here too. Probably candy or something.”

“That’s nice of her.” Scott smiled, watching as you opened the cardboard box.

“Ah, yep.” You reached into the bag and pulled out several packages of Genovian chocolates. “Here you go, guys.” You told them.

Kurt’s eyes narrowed at the bags, his tail hovering behind him curiously. He recognized that packaging. “These…I know these chocolates. Does your mother live in Genovia?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m from there, actually.”

Peter thought for a second, already munching on chocolate. “Wait, I thought you were American.”

“Nope.” You laughed, reaching further into the box and pulling out a handful of little Genovian flags she’d sent. “Ah, right. Independence day is coming up.”

“Where even is Genovia anyway?” Warren asked, admiring the little flag once you handed it to him.

“It’s a tiny little country between France and Italy.” You explained. “It’s really beautiful there, though.”

“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.” Kurt reminisced, sighing fondly.

“When did you visit?” You asked him.

“Several years ago.” He said. “The circus had a few shows there when I was young. The people were so kind, and the coast sparkled like diamonds.”

“You were with the Munich circus, right?” You asked him, trying to remember. He nodded proudly, a smile settling onto his face. “I was at one of your shows! I knew you looked familiar! Oh my god…” You laughed and shook your head. “I should have put those pieces together sooner.”

“You were there?”

“Yeah! My mom took me for my birthday.” You smiled, remembering the show fondly.

And Kurt knew then the information that you were withholding from the rest of the group. His eyes widened slightly and he studied your features. He remembered you. He remembered that day and he remembered the feeling of his heart hammering when after the show, the Queen of Genovia herself introduced him to her daughter, who was about his age. She’d taken her there because it was the princess’ birthday. Though your meeting was brief, he’d remembered it all this time, thinking of it every once in a while…the time he’d met a princess.

You didn’t look all that different now than you had then. Why you hadn’t told the rest of your friend group, he wasn’t sure, but he would keep the secret for you. Of course he would. He smiled softly, admiring you with his new revelation in mind. Even before he’d figured it out, you’d already been a princess to him anyway.

Peter studied the look on Kurt’s face and squinted. Something was going on. Something was going on and he would get to the bottom of it…

***

Over the weekend, your friend group had decided to go to the mall, but before you left, Kurt knocked on the door to your room.

“It’s open, come on in.” You told him.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room timidly. You were at your desk, reading what appeared to be a letter written on a piece of paper.

“What’s up?” You asked, not looking up from the letter when you asked it.

“You’re coming to the mall, right?”

“Yeah, what time is it?” You glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit. Sorry I’m late.” You chuckled, folding the note and tucking it into your dress drawer. “My mom wrote me a letter with her package.” You explained.

“How nice!” Kurt smiled and you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering at the way it lit up his face. “Do you write each other letters back and forth?”

“When I have time to, yeah.” You nodded, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Well, shall we?”

Kurt nodded and offered you his arm. You took it and in a poof of smoke, suddenly, you were standing in the living room, where the others were all standing.

Peter had a weird look on his face and you weren’t sure why, but you knew he was up to no good. He always seemed to be…

The squad piled into the car, as usual, and arrived at the mall in under thirty minutes. Jubilee picked the tunes, which was always a good choice, so the ride there was pleasant and relatively uneventful.

You all walked inside and started the routine of shopping around in all of your usual stores. The prom was coming up, so you all spent some time in the dress place on the upper level of the store.

“What color dress do you think you’re going to get, (Y/N)?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure.” You thought for a moment. “Maybe something pink. Or…blue?”

“I think blue would look great on you.” Jubilee grinned, flipping through the rack of blue dresses.

“I agree.” Jean smiled, her eyes flicking over towards Kurt, who was on the other side of the store with the boys.

“Hey now.” You warned, your cheeks warming at the thought. “What did I say about reading my mind?”

“I didn’t need to read your mind. You’re more obvious than you think you are.” She chuckled.

“What she said,” Ororo agreed, causing your cheeks to flush even hotter. “Why don’t we ask the boys which one you should wear?”

“That’s a great idea.” Jubilee agreed, despite your shaking head. “Hey boys!”

“Yes? What’s going on?” Kurt bamfed over beside you, looking at Jubilee curiously.

“Which dress should (Y/N) wear to prom?” Ororo held up one pink dress and one blue dress.

“The blue one.” Scott said knowingly, crossing his arms and smirking. Okay. So he and Jean had talked, then. “Definitely the blue one.”

“I agree.” Warren nodded.

“What do you think, Kurt?” Scott nudged the teleporter.

“I think you’d look beautiful in anything. But I do like the blue one. It brings out your eyes.”

“T-thanks.” You blushed, giggling. None of you committed to dresses, so after looking around for a while the squad decided to hit the food court while looking over movie times.

“So…” Peter looked up at you and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the rest of the group. “When were you planning to spill the beans…your highness?”

You swore your blood ran cold. You looked up at him, your heart racing in your chest and the color drained from your face. “Excuse you?”

“You heard me.” Peter raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair confidently. “When were you going to tell the rest of us your little royal secret?”

You froze, staring at him for a long time. “Maximoff,” you said through gritted teeth, your eyes glowing faintly. “Choose your next few words very carefully.”

“Oh I have. (Y/N)’s the princess of Genovia.”

“Pfft. As if.” Scott scoffed, chuckling, but he stopped when he looked at the look on your face. “Oh shit, is he serious?”

“Who the fuck told you?!” You asked him, your voice raising the teeniest bit. “The only people who know are Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy, so which one do I have to kill when we get home?”

“Neither. I snooped in Xavier’s office. Found your file.” Peter shrugged. “And of course, that begs the question: Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Listen…” You exhaled a long breath, looking to each of your friends faces for a moment before fixing your eyes on the table. “When people know, they treat me differently. I don’t think they mean to, but they do and it sucks. I like having friends and I love hanging out with you guys and I didn’t want to ruin that because of something as stupid as status.”

“You’ve got us.” Jean promised. “We’re not going anywhere. This doesn’t change anything. And…I already kind of knew. Not that you think about it often, but every once in a while…”

“I figured that might happen, yeah.” You chuckled. “Thanks for keeping it on the DL.”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“I knew too…” Kurt confessed, looking you in the eye.

You crinkled your eyebrows and then nodded, understanding. Of course he knew. You two had met before, after the show. You’d asked your mother if you could meet some of the performers, and she’d pulled some strings to make it happen. You distinctly remembered meeting Kurt. You remembered his smile and his adorable pointy ears.

“That’s right.” You smiled. “We met.”

“We did.” He agreed, nodding, a smile tugging at his lips and a faintly purple color creeping across his cheeks. “Although, I’ll admit, I didn’t realize it was you until…very recently. We aren’t kids anymore.”

“We sure aren’t.” You agreed, a chuckle escaping your lips.

And it was fine after that. It was normal. Much more normal than you’d expected it to be. Another week came and went. You finished your letter to your mom, Queen Clarisse, and when its response came back in the mail, you found it accompanied by a small picture she had saved all these years. As soon as you looked at it, a smile on your face, you knew you had to show Kurt.

So, you ran out to the courtyard, where you knew he was, and found him reading under the shade of a large tree in the front yard.

“Kurt!”

“What’s up?”

“My mom sent a few copies of this photo. Do you want one?” You asked, sitting next to him in the grass and handing him the photo. He looked it over, holding it very carefully in a large, three-fingered hand.

“This is us, ja?”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, nodding. “A very long time ago.”

“We were so young…” He murmured, admiring the smile on his face as well as yours. He remembered you’d been nervous to meet him and at first, he thought it was because of the way he looked, but quickly learned it was because you’d been enamored by his performance. Absolutely blown away. You’d been so kind to him then, just as you were so kind to him now.

“We really were.”

“Do you mind if I keep this?”

“It’s all yours.” You told him. “So, what’cha reading?”

“Beauty and the Beast.” He told you. Ever since remembering that one of his best friends was a princess, he’d been on a bit of a fairytale kick.

“Mmm, that’s a good one.” You smiled and tilted your head, your eyes sparkling. “Read to me?”

“Of course.” He laid back against the tree again, holding the book open with his tail.

You got closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting your head against his lean chest. His arm wrapped around you and tugged you closer, and without even thinking about it twice, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline before starting to read again.

Kurt decided then that there was no place in the world he’d rather be than under his favorite tree, a princess resting contently against his chest.

Part 2?

[brb-on-a-quest]

Ok! this is because I was obsessed with two hyperfixations at once. Aka: what if Dean and Sam from Supernatural had to fight against a death note and how quickly would the die (if writer had made the eye deal its over but if they didn't have an eye deal.... there was a chance.

(also looking back over def too many pages to give you the whole thing right here right now but it looks like I had plot threads between angels/demons and shinigami wars soooo honestly I'm more intrigued might work on)

Shinigami war:

They were too close for comfort, but Akemi had come prepared. She ducked into an alley- one of a rare few in this small town- and slammed her bony hand against the sigil she had painted in blood that morning. Shinigami Banishing symbol. No one had used them much since the war. Akemi chuckled at their shrieks of anger as forgotten knowledge pushed them to the shinigami world. Her siblings would take care of the rest.  Akemi grinned. She was sure they would get a very warm welcome indeed, with the amount of lost love between them both. She stashed the book in a lending library donation box. More were coming, and would come, and there was no use getting caught with it in her possession.  She heard the cry of the hellhounds and knew that her time was numbered. She vanished, knowing the book was safe.  After all, the best place to hide something was in plain sight.

Dean And Sam picking up the Case

Singer Household, Sioux Falls, South Dakota. About six months later.  “Okay, so six people die of a heart attack in some town. Not exactly strange, people die all the time.” “In Evansville? Dean, Evansville has a population under 1000. It’s smaller than small town.” “Besides, those numbers were accurate last year.” Bobby Singer cut into the Winchester brothers’ conversation. “Last I heard from Gerwel, numbers were down seven-hundred and fifty in over a few months.”  “Twenty five precent.” Sam whistled.  “Mkay, that’s something to think about.” Dean muttered. Louder, he sighed. “Any omens?” “Besides the amount of weird deaths? I would hope that’d be enough.” “Define weird.” Dean rocked back as he sat down in a very scratched up leather bound chair. “Define it yourself. Gerwels sent a letter. Photos attached.” Bobby gruffly nodded at the desk. He placed his hands on his wheelchair rims and started to back up, but Sam shook his head and approached the desk.  Dean’s brother sifted through the correspondence to find an email and a few enlarged photos that had been printed off Bobby’s ancient device that he refused to get rid of.  “So get this…” Sam started then halted to get a closer look at the page in his hand.  “You found something?” Dean’s hand whipped around.  “Maybe, look at this.” Sam walked over, handing over a page that contained three different pictures of graphically dead people. “Some of them are heart attacks in people who look like they shouldn’t have those kind of problems, but then there’s this chick who got murdered by a bunch of crows. She was an ornithologist- bird scientist.”  “So she pissed off the spirit of Alfred Hitchcock or something?” Dean sat up in his chair, only slightly more interested than disturbed in the amount of holes the flock of birds put in the girl.  “Maybe. This guy was working for a circus as a fire breather for decades, and he burned from the inside. Downed a bunch of gasoline and ate lit matches for dessert.” “One way to go out with a bang.” Bobby remarked dryly. “You boys interested enough yet?” “Any reports of hideous monsters at all? Like bony reapers with wings.” “Cas!” Everyone shouted as they turned towards the door frame to see the only angel currently not on their ‘banish with a sigil’ list. “I’d ask you to come in, but clearly that’s pointless.” Bobby motioned to another chair opposite Dean. “Where have you been?’ “I believe a figurative word you could use is Hell, although in retrospect, I can’t imagine how the experiences can be comparable.”

And our New Light Yagami, daughter of the Evansville Police Chief, Maxine Gerwels

Max Gerwel hadn’t noticed anything unusual about the notebook when she first picked it up while scouring the outdoor library for new reads. It was solid black and thick, completely devoid of lettering minus the front which just said ‘Death Note.’ Well, at the very least, maybe people won’t go poking around in it. She stuck it in her purple book bag, in the innermost pocket. Hopefully, Dad won’t think I’m making a hit list.  Nah, diary seems more likely.  In reality, Max Gerwels had plans to use the notebook for journalism notes for her involvement with the school newspaper. It looked professional enough it might pass Mr. P’s regulations, especially if she covered up the words with black paint.  After dinner, Max retreated to her room. Being a fan of art and bullet journaling, she pulled out an orange-stained art box. There were lots of still partially full opened tubes of paint. Of course, the brushes rested at the bottom of the box. The first thing she did was cover out the words ‘Death Note’ with black paint, force it to dry with a hair dryer, and then open up the inside cover.  “Ma-ax!” Dad’s voice came from downstairs. “CHORES. C’MON.” “Coming!” she shouted, leaving the book open on the desk.

Hope you enjoy! :D :D :D

*L-meanders up to your front porch and pokes the doorbell Trick...or treat!

Welcome, welcome detective pick one

🍫: a shitty drawing

🍰: excerpt of a partially abandoned death notexsupernatural fic (...I keep meaning to go back to it but lack of organization and weight of college classes do not pair well)

🍭: slapdash canva art