#Or when they went into the haunted mansion thing and one of had the nightmare where he was shredder

[soo0hee]

Nightmare Manor

Pairing — Ghost!JeonWonwooxReader

Summary — When you had to come back home to a house you had sworn you would never set foot into, you surely did not expect to find yourself in your own personal nightmare...

Genre — horror

AU/Trope Info — Ghost Au

Wordcount — 1.7k

Warnings — psychological terror, supernatural happenings, implied murder, stalking also implied

Rating — NSFW ☕️☕️☕️☕️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Looking around you just to see the home you had fled the day you had turned 18, just to find yourself right back where you had left things 7 years later, now as the owner of the estate your parents had left behind after their death was surreal.

Everything seemed to be just as it was when you had run out of the front door with nothing more than a bag pack, your phone and the money you had saved from jobs you got to for once have something to yourself. And knowing your parents, that was most likely the case.

The gigantic portrays that seemed to be staring down from the walls were still there just like every artifact that your family had collected over centuries. Everything was still in place and everything felt just as cold and lifeless as when there were still people living in it.

Standing here in the entrance hall and looking around after the funeral of your mother and father was over, you felt just as small as always. Why they had left the house in your hands and not your siblings you didn´t know. After all, they were the golden children while you were just the disappointment that had betrayed the family being leaving. You wanted nothing to do with the house, wanted nothing to do with what ultimately reminded you of a time in which you felt unloved and left behind by those you were supposed to call family.

But that couldn´t be changed now.

You knew that you wouldn´t keep the house. There was no way you wanted to stay for longer then you absolutely had to. You should just burn it to the ground; however this was still the house you had grown up in. Even with all the hatred you had for this place, you still felt somewhat attached to it.

Felt attached to it with its creaking floor boards, scratching sounds in the walls, constant cold that seemed to settle in your bones, flickering lights and footsteps that came from nowhere. The house was weird. It always had been but your parents and siblings had called you crazy often enough in your childhood that you chose to keep quiet about every single incident you could remember.

And there were a lot.

It was weird how it was only ever you who seemed to notice it. At some point in your early life you had actually started to doubt your mental state when nobody reacted when the door opened itself during dinner even though you were sure it was closed or when the cups fell out of the cupboard regularly without being touched.

But then you had left and pushed that life out of your mind.

And now you were back.

Trying to sell this haunted place without much luck.

Whatever you had noticed was also noticed by potential buyers and they were not inclined on buying a house that could very well be the scenery of a horror movie.

You sighed when the door closed and another one left in a hurry.

“Why does this place hate me so much?” you asked yourself with your forehead leaning against the wooden frame of the front door.

The only answer you received was the subtle gust of wind brushing over the exposed skin of your arms and raising Goosebumps all over them. A shudder went down your spine as silence fell over the mansion.

It was no use to question anything and far too late for you to do so anyway. All you felt was exhaustion making your eyes feel heavy after 3 weeks of barely getting any sleep.

If you had though the creepiness off your home as a child was bad, then nothing could have prepared you for when you were living in it alone.

The first night back was weird as you had not set foot into your room in years. Everything had been calm. Almost to calm for your waiting mind to once again hear and see the thing you knew were there.

The second night was much like the first one. Calm. Save for the rats your heard running around in the walls.

And then the third night, just as you had gotten used to the quiet, it had all come back.

The scratching, the footsteps, the creaking floor boards… everything came back full for like it had just waited for you to feel safe.

Safe was the furthest thing you felt now.

You wanted to go home. Your home. The one you had found in a city so far away and so different that it was easy to forget this place when you burrowed in your fuzzy blanket in front of your TV with your cat curled up by your side.

God you missed the fluffy pet that was for now tended to by your best friend until you came home.

A crow sat in the window and tilted it´s head at you.

“At least you can fly away whenever you want. I am stuck here it looks like.” You blinked back with defeated shoulders, turning to leave the hall and walk up the stairs when you thought you saw the shadow of a man out in the field. It was gone as quick as it had come and you shook your head, hoping that it had been the light of the lowering sun playing tricks on your eyes.

“This place is making me go crazy.” You muttered to no one.

All you wanted was to sleep but this night was no different to the others.

Well it was, because this time you felt the growing need to go to the bathroom.

One look to the ticking clock on the wall told you that it was the middle of the night. 3:12 am.

Oh how you hated the thought of having to leave your bed right now.

You reached for the bed side lamp and the room was illuminated by a dark and dim light that only served to magnify the vibe the house already gave. You shuddered like so often.

Feeling that your bladder was urging you to get up you slipped into your bunny slippers and reached for the little night robe slung over the end of your bed to protect yourself from the cold.

The fact that the tab was already open and running hot water, steaming up the mirror did not help settle the bad feeling in your gut but for the sake of the toilet you ignored it. For now.

You did your business and flushed. Stepping close to the foggy mirror and wiped your hand over it. Your eyes met your mirror eyes…

And those of the man standing behind you between you and the door.

A shrill scream left your lips as you whirled around to stare at the stranger that most definitely did not belong inside your house.

“Who are you?” you demanded with your voice shaky enough to fail the intention of sounding brave.

The man’s head fell to the side in a gauging way.

“You´re finally back.” He said with a deep voice that somehow seemed to echo itself.

He was handsome, that much was no doubt and had he not been standing in your bathroom in the middle of the night you probably would have cared about it.

“B- back? What do you- Who are you?!”  You forced out and clung to the sink in your back.

The man blinked at your heavily breathing form. “I missed you.”

“Please, take whatever you want and leave my house! I won´t tell anyone that you broke in here, but please don´t come closer…”

A grin spread over his face as he tilted his head from side to side.

“I didn´t break in. I never left.”

Fuck.

What. The. Fuck?!

“W- what do y-you mean? You never left? What-“

The man stepped closer and you let out a cry, pressing yourself into the furthest corner knowing that there was no way out and past this man. You automatically reached for the hairbrush on the side cabinet and threw it at him.

No.

You threw it threw him and he chuckled like you had tickled him.

This couldn´t be. What was happening?

It was like the brush had passed right threw him and he didn´t even flinch. It almost seemed like his appearance had flickered for a moment before returning back to normal.

You took a deep breath to try and keep calm.

“How long have you been here?” you pressed out between tight lips.

The ghost(?!) thought for a moment but stood completely still. Judging by his clothes he couldn’t be from this time frame but from when-

“1967. The year I died.”

You wanted to die.

“And y-you never left?” you swallowed heavily.

“Can´t. This is my house. Can´t leave.”

“And why show yourself now?”

“You came back.”

You didn´t want to think about the possibility of what his words could mean. The implication that this man, this ghost, had been haunting your childhood home since long before you were even born was already enough for your heart to beat out of your chest in fear but the thought of said ghost watching you leave and waiting for you, You!, to come back? That had your stomach rolling unpleasantly.

“But not for long, I will-“you said quickly but got cut off.

“No.”

You froze.

“What?” you exhaled and watched as the smile of the man vanished and turned into something dark.

“No. You came back. I can´t let you go.”

He said it so easily as if it was the most obvious thing. Like you had ever planned on staying.

“I can´t stay, I- I can´t!”

The man flickered drastically and with him so did the lights. The scratching in the walls started up and the mirror burst in million little pieces.

“NO, YOU CAME BACK TO ME. YOU ARE MINE!”

An ear shattering scream echoed through the night and suddenly he was right in front of you with and ugly smile and an evil glint in his otherwise beautiful dark almost black eyes.

“You are mine to keep my love…”

[awzominator]

@traumas-tmntober-2024 day 19: identity crisis

“Who is that girl I see Staring straight back at me? Why is my reflection someone I don't know?“

I love me some brainwashed arcs that leave lasting impressions

[snake-snacc]

↪ Late night talks

[comforting him]

↪ Fandom — Diabolik Lovers | Kanato Sakamaki

↪ Words — 2.4k

↪ Warnings — Childhood Trauma, Selfharm, we take care of sad little baby, Hurt but Comfort

↪ Notes — I think it is time, were we don't take comfort from them, but give them comfort! Also this is kind of an apology for the last thing I wrote- Sorry not sorry?

English isn't my first language-

Sleeping besides Kanato was always calming for you. In comparison to his tantrums, hysterical outbreaks or fake tears he puts on to make you feel guilty, the days were calm. As soon as you two go to bed, where he sometimes acts like you let him wait hours to join him, he pulls your body close, resting his head against your chest and listens to your heartbeat. His arms wrapped around your body tightly so you can't just leave him and the blanket pulled as high as possible. 

Kanato was most of the time a really calm sleeper, falling asleep, not moving much and waking up when the sun goes down again. Just in some rare cases did he wake up in the middle of day. Such as, someone standing in front of his door, feeling the weight on the bed is lighter than it should be, you moving too much in his arms or nightmares consuming his sleep. 

It took a lot of time until he told you about the nightmares and the things that haunt him for years. He told you why rain is turning his mood down, why he sometimes wakes up crying and holding on to you even tighter, why he looks in the mirror so often or sometimes not for weeks. And even when you saw it the first time he undressed in front of you and also asked about the fine white lines on his arm, he only told you years later. 

Sometimes you wonder why the lines never seemed to vanish, only seemed to get worse from time to time, even when his regeneration is inhuman. There weren't new ones, no. The white lines just turned red, crusty. Sometimes you swore you had seen blood seeping out of them. But you never asked. Feeling like this would be too much.  

You know he had a lot of packages to carry, but you always gave him the time to unpack it himself. If he told you off or came up with a lie, it was okay. Then he wasn't ready to tell you. That's why you would never dare to forget any of the things he told you. You would never forget the moments he holds your hand a little tighter and just speaks into the night sky about something that bothers him. About something that he can't forget. 

It often makes you sad, seeing how he tries to put on a soft smile, while his words speak about the terror he was put through. Sometimes you need to hold back your tears, while he speaks about something so wrong and terrible, voicing it like it was the best day of his life. 

But maybe that was also a part why you loved him so much. He opens up to you, tells you about the depths his life and heart has to offer. He lets you in and doesn't shut the door. Something you know, not even his brothers achieved. 

So when you opened your eyes in the middle of the day, not feeling or seeing the vampire beside you, you got a little nervous. You sat up, letting your eyes wander around the room, looking if he was sitting on the ground or in his chair. Maybe he just needed to use the bathroom? 

Teddy was laying beside you, facing the ceiling, not being moved from his place. 

You grew more and more nervous, not sure where Kanato went. You waited a few minutes, hoping he would come back but as the time passed and the door didn't open, you got out of bed. Carefully taking Teddy with you.

With slow and quiet steps you go to the door, open it and look behind it. Peaking into the corridor, but it was empty. Carefully you walk through the halls, looking behind every corner and door, hoping to find your boyfriend there. 

But neither was he in the bathroom, the kitchen, the livingroom or even at the pool. Your nervousness slowly turns into fright. Where did he go? Did he leave you? Did something happen?! Your feet dragged you through the mansion, walking every hall twice just to make sure. 

As your eyes began to fill with tears your feet stopped at a big door on the lowest floor. For a moment you asked yourself why you didn't run here in the first second, but on the other hand you really disliked the room behind that door. The smell in there made you want to vomit, even if it wasn't that bad and even hard to recognise. But you knew. 

With shaky hands you open the door, holding tight onto Teddy after as if he would save you. You swallow before taking a step inside, trying to avoid the lifeless eyes that surround you. 

You would never dare to not appreciate the handwork Kanato put into all of these dolls and their clothes, but the truth behind them, the fact you had to witness how one of these were made, always makes your stomach turn. The smell of formaldehyde had haunted you for weeks. It had stuck to your clothes and even as you felt it had vanished, he still smelled like it. Sometimes he still does 

Your steps are tiny, trying to avoid getting noticed by the dolls. Even when he confirms to you multiple times that they are as lifeless and soulless as they could be, you still swear you saw them moving! Carefully you look around the big room until a relieved call escapes your mouth. 

“Kanato!”, you quickly go up to him, but as you notice that he isn't reacting to your call or your approach, you get slower. Coming to a stand beside his kneeling figure. 

His eyes stare into the ground long mirror in front of him, not moving or blinking. One of his hands is in his face, slowly letting his fingers caress his cheek while the other hand is around his underarm, moving forth and back. His sleeves are pulled up and as you look closer, you take a step back. His hand isn't only moving over his arm but his fingers are scratching open the skin. The skin you know is already covered in fine white lines. Blood is spilled over his fingertips, the pushed up sleeve also seems to have gotten dirty already. The red is rolling down his arm, dripping on the ground beneath him as you just look at it in horror.  

A soft smile appears on his lips for a second before his lips part.

“Why do you look at me like that..?”, are the words that fill the silent room, but he still doesn't look at you. Not even through the mirror. He still stares into his own eyes. 

“I.. I was worried and searched for you..”, you answered him, hoping your voice isn't shaking too much. Unsure how to correctly handle the situation you kneel down beside him, look into his face from the side, hoping to get a reaction. 

“You always do that.. when I am in front of you..”

“That's not true..- I was just worri-” 

He takes his bloody hand away from his arm, approaching the mirror with it, before he backs away. As if he wasn't allowed to touch the mirror, or his hand was slapped away. 

“.. I'm sorry.. I would make your dress dirty, right..? Stain your beauty..”, his voice is nothing more than a whisper. He leans his head a little to the side, letting the hand from his face fall to the ground. 

It takes you a moment to realize that he isn't talking to you. He told you about such moments, but apparently he didn't tell you all about them. 

“Say.. You are proud of me, right?.. My face.. it resembles you so much.. I had the luck to get your colors.. Tell me… why are you still looking at me like that..?”, his voice cracks. Letting in the desperation his heart is feeling. 

“Tell me..!” The mirror cracks. Breaking where he crashed his hand into it. Some of the pieces already fall out, others stick onto the mirror. A quiet whimper crawls out of his throat, while he lets his hand slide down the broken glass. 

“Tell me..” he gasps for air, making his shoulders shake. 

“I.. I did what you wanted.. everything you wanted..!” 

You watch in horror, your body not able to move as he grabs the mirror by the frame, shaking it forth and back as if he is holding on to the person he sees in there. He shakes and shakes, holding onto it until his fingers seem like they are breaking. Before is head is falling over, his body going still again.

“Wasn't it enough…? Wasn't I.. enough..? Tell me…” 

Pulling everything in yourself together you want to place a hand on his shoulder trying to get his attention, to bring him out of this nightmare. But you hesitate as his shoulders begin to tremble again, letting your hand hover over it. 

“I love you… I.. I love you..!.. Why can't you.-!? Why don't you belong-!? Tell me!!” His hands fall down beside the mirror. 

“You.. didn't look.. he.. he was more important than my falling body.. they all.. were..” 

He slowly lifts his head up again, looking into the broken mirror with tears rolling down his face. Shakingly he puts his bloody hand on his reflection, smearing it over the cracks. 

“Just once.. love me.. for one second..” 

“Kanato..”, you whisper, placing your hand on his shoulder and turning him towards you. His eyes look at you, getting wide as they realize the change of view. He shrugs his shoulder away under your hand, looking around for a moment to get a hold of his situation. 

“Love..”, you whisper again, taking his hands in yours. Looking into his face and when he looks back at you, you give him a soft smile. Still a little in shock, still afraid of what happened, but also more than happy that you could pull him out.

“What are you doing..?”, he asks you, his voice cold. But you knew better. You knew him for a few years now and could tell when he was trying to avoid a situation. He often did it after he woke up crying from a nightmare, acting like nothing happened. 

With a soft motion you let your fingers run over his hands, caressing them.

“You weren't in bed, so I searched for you.. You know that I can't sleep without you”, is the answer you decide on. 

“You really are helpless without me”, he murmurs under a sigh and looks at your hands. For a second he wants to shake them off, tell you they will get dirty if you keep touching him, but you touch him with so much care. You touch him even though you know that you will get dirty. 

“I truly am”, you say with a smile.

“And Teddy too, you see? He was searching with me”, you add and let the bear, that was sitting on your lap, wiggle with your legs.

Kanato is quiet for a moment, looking at Teddy and then back into your face.

“You cried”, he states and takes one of his hands out of yours, swiping away the remains of your tears that you didn't even notice through everything. Left is a red stain on your skin where the tear was. A short flash of regret goes over his face. You smile, leaning into the bloody hand of his, staining your face even more. Showing him that it's okay to put dirt on you. 

“Thank you” 

Carefully you place your free hand on his cheek too, wiping away his remaining tears, but not mentioning it. You feel the light shift as he leans into your hand a little. It didn't last long. 

He opens his lips to speak again, but before he can, you lean in, giving him a soft kiss. Whispering your love and the promise to stay by his side against his lips. 

For a moment he just looks at you, not sure if he should call you out on interrupting him or not. He sigh. 

“Let's get back to bed”, he stands up from the ground, waiting until you do the same. He lets Teddy in your hands. 

Back into his room you place Teddy on the bed, putting the little blanket over him. In the meantime Kanato takes off his blood stained shirt, throwing it on the ground and getting ready to put on a new one. But before he can do that, you wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Can I clean you up first?”, you ask in a soft voice. His eyes wander to his arm. The blood is already dry. 

“Before I dirty the bed or-” 

“No No. I know you don't like the feeling of dried blood on your skin. You told me once when you talked about your dolls..” 

“Oh.. You're right. Sometimes I forget that you can use your brain” The words sound harsh, but you know that's his way of overplaying what he really thought at first. 

Together you go to the bathroom, where you carefully clean his arm and hand. Trying your best to keep your mind at ease and forget about the horrible sight you had to witness. As you finished he gives you a short kiss on the cheek, waiting for you to finish cleaning yourself. But you don't seem to do that.

“You have blood on your skin”, he mentions, pointing to your face and hand. 

“And? It's yours, nothing I would get rid off”, you say so casually. Yes, normally you would have washed it off, but you think that maybe this time it would be better to keep it. To let the information sink into his brain until the next night. 

You two go back to his room, cuddling up into the big blanket and the multiple pillows after he dressed himself again. Pulling him close against you, letting your fingers stroke through his hair. You close your eyes, listening to the little movements he makes to adjust his position. 

“Thank you..”, is whispered against your chest, muffled into the clothing, but you hear it. 

“Not for that my Love”

[zingingdesertrose23]

Sweet Dee’s Complete Backstory (1976-2005)

[cw: suicidal ideation, emotional abuse, bullying, body shaming etc..]

Deandra "Dee" Reynolds was born the older twin to Barbara (born Landgraf) and Frank Reynolds in 1976, the latter of which raised illegitimate children not knowing that their biological father was Bruce Mathis, a man his wife was having an affair with. Barbara was 28 years old at the time, and Frank was 33. Frank has claimed that Dennis and Dee would have had a brother, Donnie, had they not eaten him in the womb.

Dee was raised not by her emotionally distant mother, Barbara, or her father, Frank, but rather a "series of Mexican women" who served as nannies. Barbara, who chose Frank under the belief that he was wealthier than her former lover Bruce Mathis, consistently favored Dennis over Dee. Thanks to Frank’s real estate business and shady dealings, the twins had a financially stable childhood.

The neglect from her parents was supplemented by the dubious influence of her maternal grandfather Pop Pop (Heinrich Landgraf), a former SS officer, whose presence in her life introduced her to extreme ideologies and further complicated her moral landscape. Based on his uniform, he was a low ranking gestapo officer. He may have even been an acquaintance of Adolf Hitler. Barbara was certainly raised with a Nazi belief system, a tradition he would go on to continue with his grandchildren Dennis and Deandra. His home was filled with Nazi memorabilia including the German Shepherd painted by Hitler.

In 1981 when the twins were five, Pop Pop attempted to indoctrinate his grandchildren through a Neo-Nazi summer camp. All of this was so normalized within the family that the twins didn’t realize there was anything wrong or off with these things until their 20s.

Dee and Dennis went to Waldron Elementary school. They grew up in the Reynolds house that would later become the “Party Mansion”.

Frank was often away conducting business and Barbara was an absent mother addicted to amphetamines. Despite this, at some points they take trips to the Jersey Shore and the twins build positive memories there together.

Frank and Barbara were incredibly neglectful and verbally abusive to Dee, the “black sheep” of the family. Among other things, Barbara used to always say “Worst is first” because Dee was born first.

Raised primarily by a series of caretakers rather than their own parents, the twins were subjected to cruel psychological games like the Christmas "fake out," where Frank would show off the gifts the children had wanted most for himself, while Dee and Dennis received empty boxes. Frank would make home movies of Dee and her brother opening the empty boxes, laughing at their disappointment.

Such experiences contributed to her complex relationship with reality, where she often downplays or rationalizes the abnormal behaviors witnessed in her family, including those of her brother Dennis. For instance, she dismisses Dennis's violent act of snapping a crow's neck, revealing her struggle to maintain a semblance of normalcy against her better judgment. Later in life Dee still defends and downplays this behavior saying,

“Well, he kind of... snapped the neck, uh, off a crow one time a little bit. But that... but that's not not normal right, you know? (laughs) I mean, it was just like boys being boys. Yeah. That...Look, we had a totally normal childhood, and...Look, Dennis wouldn't hurt a fly. No way.”

To which Frank would say : “Whatever Deandra says is BS. She's probably just covering for him because she's afraid he's gonna snap her neck like that crow.”

While she does tend to minimize what she saw, she began having recurring nightmares about it that would haunt her for life. “I still have nightmares about it…And I'm old.”

Her tendency to put Dennis on a pedestal despite his glaring flaws also highlights her conflicted feelings of loyalty, envy, and shared identity as twins. Dee has always put Dennis on a pedestal, so when he does things that are clearly wrong she has to find ways to compartmentalize and rationalize it to herself. You can also see that Dee tells herself that her childhood was normal, despite all of the traumatic experiences.

Their extended family consisted of at least Pop-Pop, Uncle Max and Aunt Donna (Barbara’s sister) as well as their cousin of similar age Gail “the snail” who they found annoying, so they would frequently bully and throw salt at her.

Dennis:“No one likes salting the snail but she gives you no choice.”

Dee: “She doesn't leave you with any options.”

Barbara was a perfectionist about appearances, which not only made her extremely insecure about her own looks and aging but also incredibly cruel towards Deandra. She constantly told Dee that she “wasn’t pretty enough” for whatever she was trying to accomplish. She would also fat shame her when she was clearly not fat at all. (Also, Barbara later on dies from a botched neck lift after Frank makes one remark about her “turkey neck” after their divorce.) Barbara held herself and her children to impossible beauty standards, and Frank didn’t exactly help; he actually perpetuated it, going so far as to call Dee “a dog” and never calling her pretty. Dee grows to hate and resent her mother, and neither twin attended her funeral later on.

Dee was a successful child beauty pageant winner, winning several shows she entered on her own despite both parents’ constant criticism of her looks and lack of support. (Later in life when she performs for Frank’s Little Beauties Pageant, during her original song “Moms Stink” she throws a photo of Barbara in the trash onstage).

Dennis and Dee were also raised Catholic, frequently attending church and confessing their sins.

By the time she reached middle school in the late 1980s, she had been diagnosed with scoliosis and made to wear a back brace, which became the source of a lot of bullying down the road and earning her the nickname “Aluminum Monster”. Dennis began to fit in with the “cool kids” more than Dee was.

Later on Charlie reads her middle school diary entries from her childhood bedroom in the Reynolds House / Party Mansion and discovers the following snippets from this period..

“Dear Diary, the dance was a total disaster. I cried myself to sleep again last night. Mom forced me to wear the back brace. And all the school chanted "aluminum monster!”

and

"I'm totally gonna tell Eric how much I like him tonight. Even though Danielle was like all over him today in school. Mother said, "Don't bother. He wants a pretty girl instead. "'

This period marked a turning point for her depression and possibly the beginning of her s**** ideation.

In the early 1990s, the gang entered high school. Dee attended the Academy of Notre Dame an all-girls academy that was affiliated with St. Joseph's Preparatory School, which Dennis Mac and Charlie went to. By 1993 Frank was gone in Vietnam opening a sweatshop. Dee had already established herself as unpopular due to her back brace and horrible self esteem. However, she continued to try to fit in and become a “cool kid”. Having no friends, she hangs out with Ingrid “Fatty Magoo” Nelson, another girl in her class that is frequently bullied.

Other classmates of hers included the Waitress, Maureen Ponderosa, Stacy Corvelli, and Nikki Potnick.

She attended physical therapy twice a week with Matthew Mara, a boy from St. Joseph’s with a huge crush on Dee and whom the gang would tease. Dee found belonging and power in taunting him, making him do all of her math homework as well as embarrassing things (like making him eat horse poop before getting to kiss her then refusing because ‘his breath smelled like shit’) much to Dennis and his friends’ amusement. She would also make fun of Brad Fisher for his acne along with the other students. The gang would also drink and party underage frequently.

During this time Dee found an escape in drama class with Dr. Larry Meyers. He made her feel a sense of self worth when she was performing, as he encouraged her talents and cast her in roles.

Around 1994, the twins graduate high school. Around this time Dee decided to stop going to her church, which may or may not be linked to her newfound passion for the pro-choice movement. She got into University of Pennsylvania and chose Psychology as her major, and was assigned a dorm with a female roommate. Somehow Dee’s insecurity and possibly internalized misogyny created a strange dynamic between them of jealousy, rivalry, and obsession.

By 1997 her back brace was removed. Dee enters into a secret sexual relationship with her professor Dr. Gainer. Her roommate issues escalate as Dee finds her “annoying” and accuses her of copying her and wearing her clothes, which Dennis claims happened the other way around. The conflict came to a head when, as she puts it, she burned her roommate “Down to the box springs whilst she was sleeping” after she “crossed” her.

Dee is sentenced to be institutionalized, and presumably get no support from her parents during this phase. Not only does Barbara see her as even more of a disappointment, Frank probably wouldn’t set foot in another mental hospital even if he wanted to. The family becomes more estranged, and while the twins remain in each others lives, they distance themselves from their parents. [edit: this would actually be mainly after the roller rink era, as the twins were still very involved in with their parents’ expectations at this point]

By 1998 Dee was released with medication and a treatment plan, which probably caused her personality to seem more “sweet” than usual. Mac and Charlie were working at the roller rink where she also had a head injury around this time that went untreated.

At some point Dennis and Dee get involved with gay culture to the point of having an almost encyclopedic knowledge of gay slang. The gang also creates the board game “Chardee Macdennis”, during which in one game the boys emotionally abused Dee for two minutes straight, which led her into a deep depression and she attempted to commit s*** with pills. The guys purchase Paddy’s Pub and hire Dee as their bartender to help her get back on her feet. She manages to get a one bedroom apartment and a cat, as well as taking up acting classes again where she meets her friend Artemis. and that brings us to episode one!

[penny00dreadful]

Spies AU - Complete

Part 1 Part 15 AO3

13th December 2015

Kas was dead.

The ghost that haunted the nightmares of Creel’s enemies was dead.

The legend was dead.

The news was met with both disbelief and scorn throughout the underworld. 

Kas the Bloodyhanded had not only been real and just as deadly as all the rumours had said, but he had also gone down burning the mansion of the most ruthless and influential criminal boss in modern memory, stabbing his master in the back in the process. 

It sounded like something out of a novel.

He had killed his boss for his sweetheart, the rumours said.

It gained him a new title.

Kas, The Betrayer.

People made it a whole romantic thing.

That Kas had found out his next job was to assassinate his sweetheart and he just couldn't do it because he was so in love, he turned on his boss, making sure his sweetheart was safe before he went to Creel’s mansion, the two of them perishing amongst the flames.

If Kas had been legendary before he was borderline mythical now.

Steve wrinkled his nose.

It was all twisted up with a rose coloured filter over the top, sweeping orchestral music and dramatic declarations of love.

The truth of it was dirtier, bloodier, tinged with fear and panic. It was slow and agonising and heartbreaking. 

Kas hadn’t turned his back on Creel the second he was given the order to kill his sweetheart.

He had broken into Steve’s apartment and pointed a gun at him and intended to kill him. 

And Steve had looked him dead in the eye, knowing that Eddie could have easily done just that.

But Steve also knew, down into his soul, that Eddie wouldn’t hurt him.

Kas might have, but Eddie would never.

He never doubted for a second, even when Eddie did, even when Eddie had thought he could still kill him.

But when it came down to it, Eddie’s eyes had been shiny, his lip was trembling and his hand had been shaking.

He knew Creel was watching him and was listening to make sure he went through with it. Because he suspected that Eddie had gone soft. That this was a line he couldn’t cross. 

And he was right, though he didn’t need to know that at the time.

Eddie had shot, but he’d moved the gun, the bullet tearing through the communicator over Steve’s ear, destroying it. 

Steve’s vitals flatlined like they had back when he’d taken that baseball bat to the back of the head and his communicator self-destructed.

The echo of the gunshot through Steve’s apartment had no sooner faded than Eddie had collapsed in on himself.

Steve had crumpled to the floor right along with him, wrapping himself around him, unable to break through Eddie’s sobs about how he’d just condemned his people to painful deaths because Creel would find out, of course he’d find out, and he’d make their deaths agonising and he’d make Eddie watch and-

Steve had to kiss him to quieten him, try to calm him down so he could get a word in edgewise.

It was wet and messy and gross but it did the job.

He was finally able to tell Eddie they had his people in their sights, it would just take one phone call to make them safe.

“Call them!” Eddie had his fists curled into Steve’s top, his face was wet and blotchy and red and he stared at Steve, practically shaking him. “Call them, sweetheart, please! I can’t- I can’t lose them, I can’t…”

Eddie broke down again, so Steve just held him tighter. He pulled Eddie’s hair away from his face and tried to continue soothing him, rocking him back and forth. He took his phone out and dialled.

Eddie was still shaking in his arms when he told the kids to eliminate their targets and call him back once it was done.

He held him close and tried to comfort him, to make him feel better, but Eddie was still convinced everything was hopeless.

When Steve tried to get him up off the floor and take him into his safe room, keep him as secure and sheltered and away from Creel for as long as he could, Eddie had refused to move. 

He couldn’t hide, he couldn’t run.

He had to go get Robin.

Creel would be keeping an extremely close and suspicious eye on him, just in case he had managed to do exactly what he had just done. 

Betray him.

Steve felt the panic starting to kick in again at the reminder that Robin had just been fucking attacked in the office but Eddie told him with a thick voice and a shake in his arms, like he expected Steve to lash out at him, that they weren’t going to kill her.

Creel wanted her.

It was barely a half an hour later when the kids had called back to say Eddie’s people were safe, they’d managed to eliminate their targets with terrifying efficiency, Eddie collapsed all over again. But there were no tears this time, just hyperventilating relief. 

He wasn’t sure he believed it at first, Steve could tell from the look on his face, he was both relieved and a little disbelieving. He’d spent so long under Creel’s thumb, thinking that this was all his life was ever going to be until he died. 

It was a little difficult to swallow that he was nearly out.

But eventually Steve managed to assure him that it happened. Freedom was just on the horizon and Steve would do anything to make sure Eddie got there.

Surprisingly the most difficult person to take down had been Billy. Steve would have expected it to be Connie, but apparently Billy just refused to stay down. And he played dirty.

All the kids had to come in and help with that one. 

But Max had told him she’d taken great joy in crushing his balls and his head under her baseball bat. 

In that order. 

The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity.

Eddie gave Steve as much information as he could about Creel’s contingency plans and in return, Steve told Eddie about the night he and Robin came out to each other, telling him to use that if he needed her to play along.

Steve had then called Hopper and got him up to speed, getting him to bring in his most trusted Agents to help knee-cap Creel before he could run. Then all that was left was to follow Eddie to the office and then to the mansion at a distance.

He had to admit, it was a lot of dramatic flair to bust into Creel’s office when he did, but he had been given the perfect opening, how could he not respond to being called just a piece of ass?

But then everything had gone to shit.

Robin got stabbed, Eddie disappeared and a corner of the mansion had been blown to pieces, killing four Agents and severely injuring three.

The smoke and flames were only getting higher and Eddie hadn’t reappeared yet.

Hopper looked like he wanted to stop him going back in after he had gotten Robin to safety, but they both knew nothing was going to stop him finding his baby.

Steve had never felt fear like he did carrying Eddie out of that burning building. 

Eddie was slipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes speaking, sometimes going completely limp and when he muttered “I love you” with his head lolling against Steve’s shoulder, Steve nearly broke down on the spot.

He tried to stop him, tried to convince the both of them that he didn’t want to hear it now, he wanted to hear it after, he wanted to hear it when Eddie was safe and whole and okay.

But Eddie was insistent and Steve would never be able to deny him anything.

Even as he sat and watched Eddie’s chest slowly rise and fall in his hospital bed, small and fragile and delicate, he knew he’d give Eddie anything he ever wanted for the rest of his life.

13th December 2015

“Um, hello?”

Steve looked up from his curled up position on the chair by Eddie’s bed.

He was met by the sight of three familiar faces peering around the doorframe, Jeff, Gareth and Grant looking in at him with polite masks, trying to hide their confusion about who this tired and worried stranger was sitting by their friends bedside.

“Hi.” Steve said, getting to his feet and wincing at the various cracks his joints let out, giving away that he’d been sitting in the same position for far too long.

Even though he’d been at this job for nearly ten years, it never got any less weird meeting people who had no idea who he was when he knew an extensive amount about them.

He shook their hands as they introduced themselves by name but then hesitated, trying to figure out how to introduce himself.

“Steve.” He said. “I’m his…” he glanced back at Eddie then towards the boys again. “I’m- I’m… his.”

The soft smiles they gave him in response were almost enough to break his heart all over again.

He turned back, gesturing them over to Eddie’s bedside, needing a moment to get himself under control. 

Grant seemed to take pity on him, breaking the silence as they all sat down, the great big bear of a man settling himself down gently at Steve’s side while Gareth and Jeff sat at the opposite side of the bed.

“How’s he been?”

Steve swallowed through the emotions and managed a smile. “He’s been in and out. It’s gonna take a few months for him to heal. His lungs and chest will always be moving while he's breathing so it’ll be harder. But he’s really just sleeping off the worst of it at the moment.”

He wanted to reach out and take Eddie’s hand again, but he felt so awkward about it.

Gareth sighed, resting his elbows on the edge of the bed and holding his head in his hands. “We always knew it would be something stupid like this that got him.” He muttered, angry and worried all at once. “I mean, he’s a demolitions expert. Shouldn’t he know not to let a building collapse around him?”

“That’s not fair, Gare.” Jeff’s eyes flicked in between Steve and Gareth like he expected Steve to jump up and start defending Eddie’s honour, but Steve knew people and he knew Gareth was just fucking stressed and worried. He didn’t blame him. It would have been worse if he’d known what actually happened. 

Gareth opened his mouth as if he was about to argue back but just as quickly deflated.

“I know. Maybe now Wayne will actually be able to convince him to retire.”

Steve nodded, hoping that he would also be able to convince Eddie to keep himself safe from now on too. But now that he thought about it-

“Where is Wayne?” He asked, realising that he hadn’t seen him yet. “I would have expected him to be breaking down the doors as soon as he heard.”

Jeff nodded. “He would have been if he could have. But there was an issue with his dialysis nurse. Apparently she just up and quit out of nowhere and he’s pissed. So he’ll be in once he has a new nurse sorted out.”

“Oh.”

Shit.

Maybe he should try to help with that. It was the least he could do, really.

“How come Eddie’s back in Hawkins anyway?”

Steve fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves. “Um… that would be me.” He said, unable to meet their eyes. “I thought he would want to be back here with you and with Wayne. I know I was probably overstepping, I’m sorry-”

A warm and gentle hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. I think he’s gonna be very appreciative of it once he’s able to tell which way is up.” Grant said, his voice soft and comforting.

Steve gave him a small smile back and settled a little more comfortably in his chair. 

It didn’t last very long though, because Jeff looked across the bed at him and asked in a curious voice, “So. How did you two meet?”

And fuck.

They hadn’t come up with any kind of story about that. When would they have had the time? In between running into each other on jobs or trying to scramble for their lives and the lives of their loved ones?

The three of them were looking at him expectantly and he had to figure out something.

“Oh, we uh… I guess it was when… um- so what happened was-”

“Tried to pickpocket him.” Eddie’s wheezing voice came from the bed. Four heads whipped around to look at him as he rubbed his cheek into the pillow, his eyes gleaming in Steve’s direction. “Then he shoved me into an alley and paid- paid me $20 to blow him.” Eddie’s words were stilted and slow, his breathing a little shorter and sharper than usual, not able to move his chest as he normally would but he was coherent and sure.

Steve’s face lit up fire truck red. “That’s not-” He stuttered, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. 

He really wanted Eddie’s people to like him and this was not the way to do it.

“‘S how I remember it, sweetheart.”

Jeff and Grant sniggered to themselves while Gareth hummed, placing a hand against Eddie’s arm. 

“Did you at least make it good for him?”

Eddie shrugged, just a little jerk of his shoulder on his uninjured side, wiggling around to face his friend. 

“Worth every cent.”

Gareth nodded like he expected as much. “Not the worst thing you’ve ever done in an alleyway.”

Eddie grinned back. “Damn straight.”

Steve squirmed in his seat, still wanting to defend Eddie against his friends who were clearly only poking fun and not taking anything he said seriously. 

It was the same kind of ribbing he’d get from Robin. Maybe not from the kids, but Robin would be going for his throat in the exact same way, especially if he scared her like Eddie must have done to his friends.

Steve let himself fade into the background, watching the four of them catch up around him. 

Despite his pallid and tired face lying in the hospital bed, Eddie looked like he’d been given an injection of adrenaline, alight with energy being back around his friends again. 

It made Steve so happy to see he wanted to fucking cry. 

With slow and calculated movements, he managed to slip out of the room, mostly unseen. Eddie’s eyes flicked over to him once or twice but there was no fear or apprehension about being left alone in them, just a small ticking up at the corner of his mouth, letting Steve know it was okay, he was well taken care of here. 

13th December 2015

Steve stayed gone a little longer than he had meant to. 

He’d gotten on the phone with Robin, giving her an update on everything and like the two of them so often did, they ended up completely lost in conversation, it was only when she mentioned the kids had asked about how he and Eddie were doing that he remembered he needed to call them too.

The kids were beyond curious about Eddie, both about how he was healing and how on earth Steve had managed to bag such a badass assassin.

Steve frowned.

“Because I’m a badass super spy?”

“Well yeah.” Dustin agreed with an eye roll that Steve could hear. “We know that but Eddie sounds so cool and you’re just so…”

“I’m just so what, Henderson?”

“You’re just so… like… straight laced.”

“Okay, one: there’s nothing straight about me-”

“Well duh-”

“Two: I am definitely hot enough to bag someone like Eddie-”

“Ugh-”

“Keep giving me lip and I won’t let you meet him.”

“Steve.” Dustin sighed as if disappointed. “Your new boyfriend, partner, lover-”

“Oh god, don’t ever use that word again-”

“Whatever he is to you, is an assassin with a code name from D&D, what makes you think you can keep us away?”

“I’ll use my super sexy spy skills-”

“Stop-!”

“Keep him hidden away from little shithead gremlins-”

“We are all in our mid-twenties-”

“Don’t remind me-”

It went on like that for a while, as it usually did whenever he and Dustin devolved into bickering, neither of them able to get a full sentence out as they poked at each other.

“When was the last time you left the hospital grounds?”

Steve snapped his mouth shut, Max’s voice coming from nowhere through the phone while he and Dustin snapped back and forth, all the kids on speaker phone.

“I… I can take care of myself, Mayfield.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you’re not answering the question?”

Steve pursed his lips.

“Oh, look at that! I’m going through a tunnel, bye!”

“Ste-!”

He hung up, knowing far too well that the argument that had surely broken out between the kids would take up enough time for him to come up with a proper excuse about why he’d been holed up in the hospital day in and day out and not at the hotel room provided by the Agency.

Shaking his head and seeing evening start to creep in through the windows, he decided some shitty vending machine coffee would be the best option for tonight, getting a second cup of decaf for Eddie in case he was still awake.

As he approached Eddie’s hospital room he noticed the door was now closed and based on his glimpse through the window, the boys had left. Eddie was sitting up though, propped up against his numerous pillows, which was a good sign.

Steve shouldered his way through the door, eyes on the cups in his hands.

“The kids are still crawling up my fucking ass about getting to meet you-”

Steve snapped his mouth shut, noticing the other figure in the room, sitting at Eddie’s bedside, a cane in one hand and an eyebrow raised.

Wayne.

Eddie was glancing between the two of them, not quite apprehensive but not quite gleeful either. Maybe a little nervous.

Steve blinked, still frozen in place while Wayne appraised him.

Eventually Wayne leaned back in his chair, fingers laced over his belly. 

“S-Steve.” Steve said, by way of a truly pitiful introduction, like an idiot, given he was still standing there like a fish out of water.

“I know who you are.” Wayne answered, completely impenetrable. “Seems a bit sporty for you, Ed.”

“Wayne, be nice.” Eddie chastised his uncle, who didn’t take his eyes off Steve even as a slow smile curled over his face. “Look at him, the poor guy- s shaking in his trainers.”

Steve huffed, shoving his nerves down and finally getting his legs to start moving again, placing the decaf cup down on Eddie’s rolling table.

“Is this going to be my life now?” He asked the both of them. “Being teased mercilessly by everyone close to you?”

Eddie grinned at him, wide and toothy. “Absolutely.”

Steve threw himself down into the chair across from Wayne. “Well, nothing I’m not used to I suppose.”

Wayne was still smiling at him, his head tilted to the side in a move that was way too familiar, his eyes boring into Steve with an intensity he’d rarely wilted under before but Jesus Christ did he feel like wilting now.

“You’ve got kids?”

Steve felt his ears heat up.

“No, they’re… well the kids- or not kids, they’re in their twenties, but I took them under my wing a few years ago and I guess they stuck around-”

Wayne hummed, cutting him off and nodding his head.

“Ed always wanted kids.”

The squeak that left Steve’s throat was not something he would ever admit to under threat of death or torture, ever, ever, ever. 

All his years of spy training, all his years of dedication and subterfuge and unflappable confidence went out the fucking window in the face of Wayne Munson, the most important person in Eddie’s life.

He couldn’t stand to look in Eddie’s direction.

“Oh, I- me… me too, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Wayne.” Eddie said a little more forcefully. “Leave him alone. I just managed to get- get my claws into him, I don’t need you… scaring him off.”

Wayne finally tore his gaze away and Steve felt like he could breathe again.

“You finally gonna listen to me and retire from that job?” Wayne asked, turning to Eddie. “Do something a little less dangerous?”

Eddie smiled at his uncle, eyes flicking to Steve and then back again. “Yeah, I think so.”

1st June 2016

Steve was fucking exhausted.

His last few months at work had been busier than usual, the vacuum of power Creel left in his wake giving all those on the lower rungs ideas about ascending to his level and neither Steve nor the Agency were about to let that happen.

But Jesus Christ, these people did not go down easy.

Steve grimaced as he stepped into the elevator up to his apartment, the small metal box closing him in with his own smell, stagnant water, fish and something oily and greasy.

His clothes were still damp from where he and his opponent had tumbled into the old breeding pool at the abandoned salmon farm and all he wanted to do was fucking shower.

Scrub himself until the top layer of skin was removed completely, fall into bed and then sleep away the rest of the night until Eddie got back from his visit to Hawkins tomorrow.

He was pretty sure he could almost see the cartoon grey cloud hanging over his head, his shoulders slumped, his head drooped and his footsteps plodding as he made his way down the hallway to his apartment.

Steve shoved his apartment door open and was met with a sensory overload.

The sounds of guitar and drums were vibrating through the air and the smell of something garlic and creamy hitting him as he closed the door behind him. The apartment was warm and the lights were already on.

His stomach grumbled so loud, he could hear it over the metal music and he was pretty sure his mouth was fucking watering.

As he stepped further inside, Steve was met with the sight of Eddie practically throwing himself around their kitchen, head swinging back and forth, knees kicking up, fist in the air while something bubbled in a saucepan on the stove.

Darkness imprisoning me

All that I see

Absolute horror

I cannot live

I cannot-

“Woah.” Eddie said as he turned and caught sight of him, completely unashamed about what he’d just been doing, but turning the music down anyway. 

Steve watched him, a little dazed, his posture still slumped and probably looking like a damp, kicked puppy.

“What happened to you, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, stepping closer. “Rough day at the office?”

Steve blinked at him, overwhelmed and bone tired.

“You’re here.”

Eddie grinned at him, stepping closer again. “I’m here.”

Steve took a few steps back with his hands up though all he wanted to do was just fall into him.

“I wouldn’t.” He frowned, even as he said it. “I smell like shit.”

Eddie’s brow wrinkled but he still continued to approach. “I don’t care.” He said, even as he couldn’t help the scrunch of his nose. “Is that fish?”

Steve grimaced as Eddie’s fingertips touched his cheek, the thick layer of grime he could feel over him making him squirm.

“Okay.” Eddie said, giving in to Steve’s clear discomfort. “You go shower and I’ll finish up your dinner. Sound good?”

Steve’s shoulders fell again, but this time in relief and he shot Eddie what must have surely been a grateful if not lovesick smile.

“Yeah.” He sighed out.

Eddie sent him off to the bathroom with a wink, the volume of the music climbing again behind Steve as he walked away, though not as loud as it had been.

Steve shuddered to himself as he peeled his clothes off, barely wasting any time between getting naked and throwing himself into the shower, not even bothering to switch it on first.

He could deal with the cold spray until it got warm.

His muscles unwound themselves and his brain finally started to get a bit quieter as the smells around him slowly changed from disgusting fish and old water smells to the soapy fresh smells of his shampoo and body wash.

Steve was no stranger to taking time in the shower, making sure he gave his hair all the love and attention it needed but tonight he stayed even longer, just letting the hot water melt his muscles into a puddle.

He had his forehead against the shower tiles, letting the water hit his back. He didn’t even jump when the door slid open behind him and a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around him to hold him tight, warm and comforting. 

“Are you letting dinner burn again?” Steve asked, turning his head a little against the tile to glance over his shoulder.

Eddie was watching him with dark eyes, his lips pressed against Steve’s neck.

“No. I’m keeping it warm in the oven for you. And I’ve only ever burned dinner once.”

“Because you’re insatiable.”

“Because I love you.”

Steve pressed his arms down over Eddie’s, keeping them in place around him.

“I love you too.”

“I know.” Eddie hummed into his neck, not kissing, just dragging his lips up and down with the lightest of touches, lightly trailing his fingers down Steve’s stomach.

Steve tipped his head back as Eddie began to press his palm against him, working him up to full hardness in almost no time and sucking at the skin just below his jaw.

He was just starting to get lost in the rhythm of thrusting his hips forward when Eddie removed his hand, turning Steve by the shoulder and guiding him to lean back against the tile wall.

He watched with hooded eyes as Eddie slowly lowered himself to his knees, barely settling his weight down before he took Steve into his mouth and straight down to the back of his throat. 

Steve’s eyes rolled and his head dropped back to thunk against the tiles. Eddie had his hands splayed over his hips, holding him down and Steve dug his fingers into the wet curls atop his head, not gripping or pulling, just resting there, content enough to feel the small bobbing motions.

“Baby,” he panted, tilting his head back down and watching Eddie look up at him with those huge eyes, lips red, cheeks hollow and fully hard. “Touch yourself, please.”

Even though his mouth was stretched around Steve’s cock, he still somehow managed to grin, knowing Steve was desperate to see him enjoy himself as well.

Steve brought his other hand up from where it was hanging limp, using it to tangle his fingers with the one Eddie still had on his hip, holding on tight while he was brought to the edge in record time, spilling down Eddie’s throat embarrassingly quickly while Eddie worked himself in his hand.

If Steve had thought he felt boneless before, it was nothing on what he felt now, his legs shaking and his mind calm and quiet while Eddie stood, just in time to cum all over Steve’s stomach. 

He looked down as it was all slowly washed away under the stream of water then back up when Eddie hooked a finger under his chin, guiding him into a slow and sweet kiss, full of love and affection.

“Are you feeling up to dinner?” He asked, soft against Steve’s lips. “Or do you just want to go straight to bed?”

Steve blinked at him slowly, his eyelids feeling weighted down. 

“I need to eat.” He muttered.

He’d love nothing more than to go straight to bed, but he couldn’t let all of Eddie’s hard work cooking him food go to waste. He’d never missed a dinner Eddie had made him and he didn’t intend to start now.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want the food Eddie made him, he very much did and it had smelled divine but he wasn’t completely sure he would be able to stay awake through the whole thing.

And he’d missed him. 

Eddie had been gone for a few days already by the time he’d been called out on his latest mission and Steve had ached to have him near again. He wanted to be close and he couldn’t force Eddie into bed with him when it was barely even seven in the evening.

Eddie was watching him with those burning and intense eyes like he was picking apart all of Steve’s thoughts and scanning through them, cataloguing them and tucking them away for later.

“Okay.” He smiled against his lips. “You want me to help you dry off and get dressed?”

Steve tipped his head to the side, burying his nose into Eddie’s neck and pulling him in tight.

“I’m just glad you’re home.”

Eddie squeezed him back. 

“I’m glad I’m home too.”

25th March 2023

Steve settled his gun harness around his shoulders, so lost in thought he nearly jumped when Eddie rounded the corner and leaned against their closet doorway.

“Something on your mind?” Eddie asked, arms crossed, the black of his wedding band stark against his skin, the only jewellery he was wearing this early in the morning.

Steve nodded, bucking himself in. He took the few steps forward until he was in Eddie’s space, running his hands up and down his arms.

“Do you remember what one of the first things Wayne said to me was?”

A crease appeared in Eddie’s brow to go along with the confused smile on his face.

“That you were too sporty for me?”

Steve shook his head, gripping Eddie’s arms tighter.

“He asked me if I had kids.”

Eddie’s mouth drew into a tight line.

“Not this again, sweetheart, please-” he moved to pull away but Steve held him tighter, keeping him in place. He knew that if Eddie wanted to break out of his grip he could have but he felt a small little bit of relief when he stayed where he was.

“And he said you always wanted kids too.”

“I did. I do. You know I do. But we’ve talked about this so many times-” Eddie sighed, pressing his forehead against Steve’s collarbone. “Your job is too dangerous. We can’t expose kids to that.”

“When I first took in the Party, they were practically kids.”

“They were teens. That’s different. We don’t need kids to have a full marriage.”

Steve nosed into Eddie’s hair, cupping the back of his head.

“But you want them. I want them.”

Eddie just burrowed in deeper. “But we don’t need them.”

“I don’t want to die with regrets, baby. I don’t want to be old and grey and thinking I shouldn’t have let my job get in the way of life with you.” He placed a kiss against Eddie’s temple. “And you’d be so pretty with children swinging out of you.”

That got Eddie to laugh. “Oh yeah, real pretty. You get to swan off and shoot people in the face. Meanwhile I’m back here, trying to handle fucking… Spider-Man birthday parties or something.”

“You’d love it.” Steve grinned, bringing his hands up to cup Eddie’s face, pulling his head back just enough to look at him. “You love being my little house husband.”

Eddie turned his head, grinning into Steve’s palm.

“I do.”

“I’ll talk to Hopper when I get back, okay? See if I can transition over to training duty for new recruits or something.”

“Really? You’d give up your dream position for that?”

Steve dipped forward, pressing a slow, sweet kiss against Eddie’s lips.

“You’re my dream, baby.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but brought his hands up to circle Steve’s wrists.

“Who taught you such sappy talk?”

“You did.”

Steve brought him in for another kiss, just as sweet and just as loving as the last. They were only broken apart when his watch beeped.

“I have to go.”

Eddie walked him down to the front door, lingering just inside the threshold.

Steve kissed him again, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll talk to him when I get back.”

Eddie nodded, a hopeful smile on his face.

“When you get back.”

A week later Steve would open his eyes to Eddie’s tear streaked face by his hospital bed, whispering to him angry and devastated, “If you ever do that to me again, I swear to god sweetheart, I’ll take you out myself.”

Steve just gave him a weak grin in return, squeezing his hand.

18th August 2023

Steve groaned as he blinked his eyes open. His back was still aching after being amateurly tied to that chair for however long. Being kidnapped was such a drag.

“I want to have kids with you.”

Steve blinked down at Eddie curled up against his chest, the morning light giving him a soft halo of light as he turned his head, chin digging into Steve’s sternum, eyes bleary and tired. 

Like he hadn’t slept a wink all night.

“What?”

“I thought-” Eddie tightened his arms momentarily, not enough to aggravate Steve’s back, but enough that he could feel it. “I thought you were gone. For a few terrible moments after Chrissy called… I thought you were gone. And I kept thinking that I’d missed it. I’d missed out on it. That I could never have it again because you were gone and I’d never get to see you hold our baby or push our kid on the swings or help them get ready for their first prom. You were gone and I’d missed my chance and I’d never have it again. I’d been so scared. I was so scared. I don’t want to be scared anymore, I’ve done enough of that in my life.” Eddie’s voice had started to crack and he buried his face back into Steve’s chest.

Steve felt like his heart was breaking.

“Baby-”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was scared. I didn’t think- I thought we’d have more time-”

“Hey. Hey, baby, come here.” Steve pulled at Eddie’s shoulders, unable to drag Eddie up his body but making his wants known. Eddie sniffled into his chest hair but wiggled his way up the bed regardless, burying his face into Steve’s neck while Steve enveloped him as much as he could.

“We have time. We have all the time in the world. Don’t jump into anything you’re not sure about-”

“I’m sure.” Eddie pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes red and his nose running. “I’m sure. I’ve been sure for a while, I just didn’t know how to- I kept putting off telling you, waiting for a better moment.”

“It’s alright.” Steve soothed, running his hand through Eddie’s hair, already knowing he’d give him everything. “It’ll be a big commitment, what with my back-”

Something like hope was starting to dawn on Eddie’s face, as if Steve could have ever thought of denying him anything.

“We’ll make it work. And you can walk again. Plus we’ll be getting your car soon, with the push pull pedals. We’ve fought bigger battles than this before.”

Steve smiled at him. 

“Yes we have.”

Eddie kissed him, wet and messy and elated.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered against his lips.

“I love you too, baby.”

Part 1 Part 15 AO3

It's done! Thank you so much, everyone for your support through this story, it's one of my favourites I've ever written and I LOVED how completely unhinged everyone was with me while we screamed about these two boys.

The song Eddie is listening to in the kitchen is One by Metallica, an absoloute banger of a song. It in no way is symbolic or reflective of his internal thoughts, it's just a song that fucking slaps. 😅

@geekymagicalpotato @estrellami-1

Divider by firefly-graphics

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation and of course I also have @steddielations to thank for planting the seed of this idea in the first place with their own spies ficlet so a big thank you to everyone! 😊

[annetiltheend]

Non-Spoiler TLDR: I think Vigilant is a great mod, one of the best quest mods I’ve tried to date. It has a shit ton of new content, good execution and great atmosphere but it definitely isn’t for everyone, like I wanted to quit several times. The Gore + Vigilant patch was my saving grace and I loved his integration into the quests. For me, he added so much more to the mod and made it feel more personal that I ended up being more invested in Gore than in Vigilant itself. Would def recommend doing a Vigilant playthrough with him!

A Long Rant of how i became a tad bit too invested in a follower mod (SPOILERS AHEAD):

Vigilant is an amazing mod—the size alone is impressive, the shit ton of quests, new maps, content, and even the design of how it’s meant to unsettle the players at some parts is so freaking good, but I don’t think Vigilant by itself is for me and I def would have just dropped the thing by act 2 if it wasn’t for Gore.

I’m kind of a coward, I hate anything horror related or any unsettling shit. I didn’t like act 2’s dungeon crawl because the way the area and the enemies became more and more freaky felt like a descent into madness. Or hell. Gore was a comforting presence through it all and I loved his integration in the final fight and scenes of act 2. And man, if I thought act 2 was bad. Act 3 was a fucking nightmare for me lol. The only thing that pushed me to go through act 3 was the fact that I had to go find Gore.

Then we have act 4, finally reunited. Hell yeah right? Hell nah. Like you have this guy and he was with me on the journey to defeat Alduin the World fucking Eater. He was with me when I accepted the offer to be a Vigilant of Stendar. He was there when we first entered Molag Bal’s altar under the Stendar Beacon, who pretty much begged me to not make him go and I convinced him to come with me still. He fought ugly ass vampires with me under Windhelm. And then he fucking disappeared when we went in a haunted mansion and I pushed myself through dark rusty hallways and bloody headless figures because “shit I need to go find Gore, I need to find my friend”.

And now, fucking finally he’s here… but he’s not ALL there. He doesn’t know where he is. He’s not remembering things clearly. He pleads with me and asks that I don’t leave him alone. and jesus. fucking. christ. It felt like I was losing him in this wasteland and I can’t help but feel that it’s all my fault. I dragged him into this, I did this and I sure as hell ain’t losing him. The entire quest of act 4 kind of just turned into this giant side quest where the main quest is to find Gore’s memories lol. I had this passing thought when Gore degraded mentally and physically for the first time, like “man what if i don’t find his memories fast enough and he just… completely degrades, like mentally gone, physically crumbles to dust and Gore just ceases to exist” and that just, terrified the shit outta me. God this whole experience really had me care for and emotionally invest in a fucking skyrim follower mod.

Getting his final memory and the reunion made me so happy. I love that after finishing Vigilant you get to have a conversation with him afterwards. Big thank you to Gore’s creator, this is some really good shit.

[rainbowfey]

12 "This is spooky." - "Really?"

@flufftober

The big sign loomed over him menacingly and Tanjirou felt a shiver run down his spine. The red blinking letters seemed to follow him like bloodshot eyes when he hesitantly walked closer, diving into the shadow of the enormous building. Had he not agreed to meet Muichiro here, he would have turned away and walked off right now. Something about the atmosphere of this place felt eerie and he would rather not find out how bad it would get when they went inside. However, he would rather cut his arm off than to stand Muichiro up and thus, he straightened his shoulders and headed towards the entrance.

When he finally got there, Muichiro was already waiting for him. He leaned against a wall, looking at the black roses that lined the fence surrounding the mansion and its majestic garden. Tanjirou’s heart jumped when he walked towards Muichiro, a happy smile forming on his face. When he had almost reached him, Muichiro looked up and his face lit up.

“Tanjirou!” he said and pushed himself off the wall to approach him. “I’ve got our tickets already.”

Tanjirou’s heart sank and he nodded, putting on a brave face. If he could not backtrack, his new mission was to not show any sign of fear in front of Muichiro. Instead, he pulled the surprised Muichiro into a hug and he instantly felt calmer when, after a moment of stunned stiffness, Muichiro wrapped his arms around him.

“It’s good to see you,” Tanjirou said when he finally let go of Muichiro and a swarm of butterflies started fluttering in his stomach when he saw the soft blush on Muichiro’s cheeks. They had not seen each other since the harvest festival a few days ago and suddenly, Tanjirou was glad that Muichiro had asked him if he wanted to go to this place together even though he still felt slightly unsettled by the whole area.

“Have you ever been to a haunted house before?” Muichiro asked curiously when they started walking towards the leaf door that marked the entrance to the building. Tanjirou took a moment to process his question as he stared at the red letters smeared over the door that said ‘Get out’.

“Uh,” he said and quickly turned his attention back to Muichiro. “No, I haven’t. I don’t think we even have those where Nezuko and I grew up.”

Muichiro nodded and said, “My brother and I have been to one a few years ago. Yuichiro didn’t like it though, so we never went again.”

Tanjirou paused for a moment. He had met Yuichiro for the first time at the harvest festival and while he had not gotten to know him well yet, he could not imagine Yuichiro being easily intimidated. Perhaps he just had not liked the idea of a haunted house itself, Tanjirou thought to himself and silently, he agreed with Yuichiro on that. Demons were one thing but a whole house full of ghosts and monsters sounded like a nightmare come true.

Almost without noticing, he moved a bit closer to Muichiro when they reached the leaf door that opened as if by magic, revealing the dark, gaping maw of the building.

“You may enter,” a hoarse voice floated through the air but when Tanjirou looked out for its owner, he could not see anyone. A shiver ran down his spine and it took him a bit of effort to follow Muichiro into the haunted house.

When they had passed through the door, it fell shut behind them. The loud thud almost made Tanjirou jump and when Muichiro turned around to him, he quickly put on an unfazed expression though he was not sure how much of his face Muichiro could see in the dim twilight of the entrance hall. “So, what do we do now?” he asked, trying to sound calmer than he was.

Muichiro thought about it for a moment before he said, “I think the tickets said something about having to find the exit. I suppose we’ll have to make our way through the mansion to find it.”

Tanjirou swallowed and glanced back at the door behind him. “We can’t just take that door?”

Muichiro chuckled and shook his head. “That would kind of defeat the purpose, don’t you think?”

And since he could not come up with a good answer, Tanjirou put on a brave face and nodded. He slowly followed Muichiro as he walked across the hall and towards the stairs leading upwards. While walking, Tanjirou eyed his surroundings. Most of the hall was veiled in impenetrable darkness and two rows of thin, tall candles lined the path from the leaf door to the broad staircase. When he looked at one candle more closely, he noticed that it had a dark red color, making the thin lines of wax running down the candle look like bloody tears. He shuddered and quickly looked away, fixing his gaze on the staircase and the intricate patterns along its railing instead. But when they came closer, he scrunched up his nose when he realized that the silvern decorations were not beautifully crafted art but rather a mass of silky spider webs.

“Bleh,” he muttered and quickly put on a smile when Muichiro turned around again, looking at him curiously. “Uh, seems like they have a spider problem here.”

Muichiro followed his gaze and looked more closely at the spider webs, his face lighting up. “Those are beautiful,” he said and Tanjirou had to forcefully keep his mouth shut before he could vehemently disagree.

Together, they walked up the stairs and Tanjirou gave his best to stay in the middle, keeping his distance from the spider webs on both sides of the stairs. At least, so far nothing had jumped at him from the darkness which was more than he had expected. With a sigh of relief, he leaned against one of the thin black columns at the top of the stairs – and froze when he noticed that the column was covered in hairs. And when it suddenly started moving, he jumped back with a loud, “Eugh!”

Muichiro turned around just in time to see the gigantic spider that now lowered its body down to them. “Run,” he shouted and when Tanjirou did not move, staring at the spider frozen in place, Muichiro grabbed his hand and pulled him through a gap between the spider’s legs.

Together, they ran towards the closest door and Muichiro quickly slammed it shut behind them, barely making it before the spider had reached them. For a moment, they both stared at the door, panting. Something hard hit the door twice before the house fell eerily quiet again. Tanjirou turned to Muichiro, expecting to see his own horror mirrored on his face – but Muichiro grinned at him and said, “That was fun!”

And for the first time in a while, Tanjirou asked himself whether Muichiro had an entirely different understanding of fun than him. With a sigh, he turned back to the room and shuddered when he saw the dozens of mirrors hanging on the wall, all of them reflecting their pale faces back to them, contorting them to terrifying grimaces. He wrapped his arms around his body uncomfortably while he followed Muichiro through the room, glancing at the mirrors every now and then. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he occasionally caught glimpses of eyes following him from the mirrors where there should only have been reflections of the backs of their heads. He nervously moved closer to Muichiro and tried to ignore the malicious grin a reflection to his left bared.

“Can you see the next door yet?” he asked urgently and Muichiro tilted his head, looking back at him.

“Yeah, I think it’s over there,” he said and pointed towards a narrow passage, both walls lined with mirrors that reached from the floor to the ceiling, so close to each other that they would have to squeeze through.

Tanjirou shuddered and he had to force himself to follow Muichiro towards the passage. He hunched up his shoulders and tried to blank out the mirrors closing in on him. But suddenly, a hand shot out of a mirror and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the mirror.

Tanjirou screamed and Muichiro whirled around. He did not hesitate for a second before grabbing Tanjirou’s other arm and pulling him through the narrow passage. Meanwhile, Tanjirou flailed around with his other arm, trying to free himself from the icy cold grip. He yelped when nails dug into his skin and with a burst of energy, he finally ripped his wrist from the pale hand’s grip.

Almost stumbling over each other, they scrambled into the next room, shutting the door behind them. Tanjirou was panting and he pulled up his sleeve, studying the claw marks on his arm. They did hurt but when Muichiro looked at him slightly concerned, he quickly hid the marks under his sleeve again before Muichiro could see them.

“Everything okay?” Muichiro asked softly and for a moment, Tanjirou thought about being honest. But then, he quickly shrugged the thought off. It seemed like Muichiro was having fun and he did not want to spoil his experience. So, he shot him a smile and nodded, hoping that this would be enough to convince him.

Muichiro looked at him for a little bit longer, searching for something in his face, and Tanjirou felt warmth creeping up his neck. For a moment, it looked like Muichiro wanted to say something but then he only nodded and turned back to inspect the room they were now in. Tanjirou followed his gaze – and grimaced when he saw the blood. It was everywhere, flowing over silver tables, countertops and giant knifes, forming red pools on the floor. He retched when he saw two gurneys that were covered in body parts. And when he looked up, a giant figure stepped out of the shadows and stormed towards them, wielding an enormous butcher knife.

“I’ll cut you open,” the man thundered and with a yelp, Tanjirou dodged his attack, dragging Muichiro with him.

His heart raced in his chest when they scurried through the silver counters, only barely dodging pools of blood. Heavy footsteps echoed behind them when the butcher chased them through the room, getting dangerously close. Tanjirou gagged when he grazed one of the gurneys, accidentally knocking a severed leg off it. His blood rushed in his ears and the red around them starting blurring. With a desperate sprint, he managed to dodge the butcher knife once more and dove through an open door at the end of the room. He quickly pulled Muichiro through the door as well and jumped against it just when the butcher reached it. With a satisfying thud, the door closed in the man’s face and Tanjirou pressed his back against it when the butcher slammed into it at full force. Muichiro hastily came to his aid and together, they held the door close until the banging from the other side subsided.

“That was close,” Muichiro gasped out and tried to wipe away some blood from his face, only smearing it over his cheek.

Tanjirou looked at him and shook his head. “Wait,” he muttered and carefully wiped away the blood with a corner of his sleeve. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Muichiro said with a soft smile and Tanjirou’s cheeks blushed. He quickly looked away and eyed the room they had rescued themselves to. His heart sank when he saw rows upon rows of gravestones, each of them more weathered and lopsided than the other. And between the vines covering the ground of the graveyard, mist started to form, rapidly growing denser, dancing in little swirls around their ankles.

“Oh no,” Tanjirou whispered. He desperately searched for another door but he could not see anything but the endless graveyard around them. And since he would rather not take his chances with the butcher again, they had no choice than to head into the depths of the graveyard.

With a sigh, he braced himself and took a first step, when suddenly a hand gently touched his wrist. Surprised, he looked up – and froze when he saw the concerned look on Muichiro’s face. “What’s the matter, Tanjirou?” he asked softly.

Tanjirou could not meet his eyes and instead nervously glanced down at the mist that had now worked its way up to their knees. “This … this is spooky,” he reluctantly admitted.

When he looked up, he saw that Muichiro’s eyes had widened. “Really?” he asked in surprise.

Tanjirou sighed and his shoulders sank down as he nodded. He averted his eyes and stared at his hands. “I know this isn’t real but … it feels real.”

Muichiro paused for a moment. Then, his face softened and he gently grabbed Tanjirou’s hands and intertwined his fingers with Tanjirou’s. “I’ll protect you,” he said with a smile that sent a warm shiver down Tanjirou’s spine.

Thankful, he leaned against Muichiro and for the first time since they had entered the haunted house, he felt like he could breathe again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect it to be this creepy.”

Muichiro firmly shook his head and ran his thumb over the back of Tanjirou’s hand. “No, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have noticed you were feeling uncomfortable.”

Tanjirou looked at him and laughed softly. “How could you? I’ve been putting on a brave face the whole time and I’m quite the good actor.”

Muichiro chuckled and pulled him closer. “Well, you certainly fooled me. How about we try to find the exit now? And if anything jumps at us, I’ll beat it up.”

This made Tanjirou laugh and as he nodded, the knot in his stomach began loosening. He looked down at the mist that now floated around their hips but this time, his fear only slightly stirred instead of overwhelming him again. “Sounds like a deal. But we should probably hurry before we get eaten alive by the mist.” When Muichiro returned his gaze, he saw amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I’m the Mist Hashira, don’t you know?” Muichiro said with a smile. “I’ll get us out of here in no time.”

And when they started walking again, Tanjirou’s hand safely in Muichiro’s, he felt comfortable for the first time this evening.

[itsawritblr]

So . . . I was sent these.

A couple of you know I used to have a Beetlejuice x Lydia blog. Used to be into the fandom big time, since the movie first opened in 1988. Then, for reasons I won't get into, I lost interest in all things Beej.

But some people still read my Beej fics on AO3. And one of them sent me these photos from Beetlejuice 2. They also sent me the link to the article they appeared in.

So for you few Beetlebabes who still Follow me -- you know who you are -- here's the article.

“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice”... Beetlejuice returns in first look at Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder

Nick Romano

Wed, March 20, 2024 at 9:00 AM CDT

It's been 36 years, but once again, the juice is loose.

After reprising Batman in last year's The Flash, Michael Keaton returns to another iconic role in Entertainment Weekly's exclusive first look at Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, the sequel to director Tim Burton's cult hit.

Winona Ryder and Catherine O'Hara also reprise their roles as Lydia and Delia Deetz, respectively, while Burton's Wednesday star Jenna Ortega plays Lydia's daughter Astrid, and The Leftovers star Justin Theroux plays Rory. Further details on Rory remain under wraps for now — unlike the titular "bio-exorcist."

The original Beetlejuice (1988) followed the recently deceased Barbara and Adam Maitland (Geena Davis, Alec Baldwin), who enlist the aid of the mischievous demon Beetlejuice/Betelgeuse (Keaton), to expel the current living residents of their home, the Deetz family. All hell, subsequently, breaks loose.

The sequel picks up decades later with a death in the family. "That's all I will say," Burton tells EW in an interview. "There's something that happens that sets things in motion." Could that be the death of Lydia's father, Charles Deetz (Jeffrey Jones)? The director plays coy: "We'll see." One thing's for sure, Beetlejuice comes back into play.

Burton describes getting Keaton back in the classic costume and makeup as "a weird out-of-body experience."

"He just got back into it," the filmmaker behind 1989's Batman (also starring Keaton) and 1993's The Nightmare Before Christmas recalls. "It was kind of scary for somebody who was maybe not that overly interested in doing it. It was such a beautiful thing for me to see all the cast, but he, sort of like demon possession, just went right back into it."

Burton says he and Keaton have talked about a sequel on and off over the years. "Unless it felt right, he had no burning desire to do it," the director recalls. "I think we all felt the same way. It only made sense if it had an emotional hook."

Many concepts were floated around, some dating all the way back to the '80s, including a treatment set in Hawaii. "We talked about lots of different things," Burton says. "That was early on when we were going, Beetlejuice and the Haunted Mansion, Beetlejuice Goes West, whatever. Lots of things came up."

What they needed, however, was time. His actors, including Ryder and O'Hara, had all moved on to other projects after the original came out, and "nobody," Burton notes, "was really pushing for it." The filmmaker also admits he didn't initially (and still doesn't to some degree) understand the success of the first film, so he wasn't motivated to move forward with an idea that didn't excite him.

The hook he was looking for, as it turns out, revolves around Ryder's Lydia and bringing together three generations of Deetz women, including O'Hara's Delia and Ortega's Astrid. "I so identified with the Lydia character, but then you get to all these years later, and you take your own journey, going from cool teenager to lame adult, back and forth again," he explains. "That made it emotional, gave it a foundation. So that was the thing that really truly got me into it."

Other details on the film itself are being kept secret for now, other than the presence of Monica Bellucci (Spectre), Arthur Conti (House of the Dragon), and Willem Dafoe (Poor Things) among the cast. (Dafoe previously disclosed his role as a B-movie action star who died and became a police officer in the Afterlife.) Burton feels "a bit jinx-y" about revealing such things, given that he's still shaping the movie in the editing phase. But he does confirm he'll be using stop-motion animation to bring a lot of the classic Beetlejuice effects to the screen. "It needed a back-to-basics, handmade quality," he says. "It reenergized why I love making movies."

And what about that title? Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. "It's been, what? Thirty-five years. So it didn't feel like Beetlejuice 2 to me," Burton says. "It didn't feel like that kind of a movie. The other one I thought of, because one of my favorite Dracula movies is Dracula A.D. 1972, was Beetlejuice 2024 A.D. But this was a nice simple one."

Just don't say the name one more time, or you risk summoning the man himself.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice will hit theaters on Sept. 6.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Addendum: Was sent the link to this, too.

I'm . . . fearfully optimistic . . . .

[ask-agent-rapzutin-vodello]

Hey raz since it's Halloween what's the scariest thing you've seen in someone's mind.

[Raz] Obviously, a lot of things are classified and I've come across so many variations that they all kinda blend together, but nonetheless every bit scary. The mindscapes of people can be a terrifying reflection of their own troubles.

Take someone who is haunted by the deeds of their past and, poof: their mindscape is a haunted mansion with spectral Censors and Eldritch Nightmares.

How about something mundane? You have someone who feels like they're being slowly crushed by the the unfathomable weight of their responsibilities? You take a Psi-trip into their mind and suddenly you're stuck inside a sinking submarine and you have to escape in time, solving elaborate conundrums before the ever-increasing pressure of the ocean makes you implode. ...it's puzzling - heh - how often the Psychonauts come across puzzles while venturing in someone's mind.

I once interrogated a claustrophobic suspect and when I went into their mind, I got stuck in a tiny box. Couldn't even get my smelling salts. Those were a scary 20 minutes ...and just when I had this itch as well.

This one might be more disturbing than scary, but nevertheless unsettling. We once had to go deep inside a suspect's mind and this guy ...well, let's call him the very peak of narcissism. This guy was litterally full of himself. Every Censor, every Nightmare, Enabler, Doubt, Regret, Bad Idea, all of them ...had the suspect's face.

Even worse: we came across a room with, ugh, 'adoring female fans' and those, too, had not only the suspect's face ...but their voice as well. Jeez, that was a sight I'll hopefully someday forget.

[junebugwriter]

I can't stop thinking about House (1977).

Haunted houses are a staple of horror culture. The haunted house goes back centuries, back to oral culture, before these kinds of things were written down. There are hundreds of movies about haunted houses, countless books about them. The Haunting of Hill House, the Amityville Horror, The Shining, the Conjuring, on and on there are examples and variations of the genre, and yet we still go back to the well because there is something so eerily alluring, so endlessly fascinating about the haunted house. Yet, I don’t think there is anything that could have really prepared me for the bizarre and surreal experience of watching House (1977), dir. Nobuhiko Obayashi. 

I had heard about it in an offhand fashion from some essayists and critics, but only ever in passing and never in any detail. I think mostly that is because it is impossible to really describe, at least in text. It is a fever dream, a nightmare of color and editing that resists description. About halfway through the movie I had a realization: “Oh, I get it. This is a film made by an insane person.” 

I know the word gets thrown around a great deal, and usually in an unserious way. It’s an ableist term, for sure, and one that stigmatizes neurodivergent people. But when you watch this film, you will understand what I mean, because there is no better term for the kind of film that was made here. It was made with remarkable craftsmanship, especially for a film with most likely a shoestring budget. The special effects are pretty silly, especially 46 years later, but there is an air of charming artifice to them that lets you know that the filmmakers were in on the gag. Aside from the effects, however, there is a grasp on genre and subversion that not a lot of films lean into, or they might try and fail to do. House, more than anything, has something to say about haunted houses that not every haunted house story would be willing to do.  

Once upon a time... 

Spoilers for a film from 1977, obviously. Not that it really matters much, because I’m sure you’ve heard a story like this before. 

A girl, unhappy with the fact that her father is getting remarried after her mother died, decides to reach out to her mother’s sister, her aunt. The aunt in turn invites her and her friends to come visit for their summer break. The girl, named Gorgeous, takes her friends, Melody, Sweet, Prof, Kung-fu, Fantasy, and Mac, out to the countryside, where they find her aunt’s house, an idyllic rural mansion. The twist, of course, is that the aunt has been dead for years, and lingers on in our world by haunting her ancestral family’s house.  

If any of that seems boring to you, well, congratulations, you’ve heard a scary story before. It’s not the novelty of the story itself that is the draw here, but rather in the way it is told, a way that can only be done through cinema. The imagery of this thing is... well, here’s a few images from the film.  

And my personal favorite: 

That last one is the severed head of a young girl, Mac, biting the rear end of one of the living girls. We’ll get back to Mac. 

Images like this are a big part of why medium is so essential to the arts. Because the “story” is basic, but the film is not. Every great story can usually be boiled down to a simple idea. “Man takes a job at a hotel during offseason.” “Family moves into a house where a grisly murder takes place.” “There’s a doll with a ghost inside it.” Simple, adaptable, and leaves room for a storyteller to leave a mark.  

House goes all in on artifice and genre, to the point of farce. At the beginning of the film, you would be forgiven for thinking it was a sunny daytime sit-com, and the girls are even introduced as such halfway through the film! It’s bizarre. It changes tone from “slice of life comedy” to “soap melodrama,” and in brief moments when Kung-fu has any action, “kung-fu movie.” The director took one look at the screenplay and went, “I’ll take everything on the menu.” 

You don’t make a movie like House without being in love with film as a medium. 

I could go on for a while about the effects, the tonal whiplash, the aesthetics of the thing, and I am very tempted by doing so. I could just list the incredible things this movie does. The set-piece deaths that come in quick succession through the back half of the movie. But that’s best left to someone with a film degree, who can get into the granularity of the medium that I cannot.  

No, what makes me really keep thinking about the movie starts with poor, innocent Mac. And once you figure out what the film is doing, you realize that this is not a movie about a haunted house. Haunted house stories seldom are. Haunted houses are about us. 

We need to talk about Mac. 

Mac is a girl who likes food. That’s it. That’s all the character she was given. Mac likes to eat, is almost always eating something, and is frequently teased and mocked by her friends for being “fat,” which... well. I don’t know much about Japanese culture, but I do know that there is a rigid enforcement of conformity to certain ideals, which often gets translated to shaming and fatphobia. Mac liked to eat, and so she was the first real punchline of the film. Even her name, Mac, was an intentional joke about eating, a reference the word “stomach,” or even MacDonalds, or some other joke that does not translate from Japanese cleanly. All the girls are given Disney Snow White dwarf naming schemes, but only hers is most clearly a joke. 

I was instantly invested in Mac’s wellbeing. Sadly, of course, she was the first one to die. 

Mac died first, because she was obviously the odd girl out in a group full of oddballs. She’s the only one that really gets the worst teasing, even worse than Kung-fu, who is mocked for being “manly,” but whose manliness is seen with a kind of awe and reverence, rather than obvious revulsion. Mac was always seen eating something, or in pursuit of food. It is this pursuit of food that in the end results in her death. She went out to the well where she was storing her watermelon, and when a girl goes to check in on her, she is found as only an animated, floating head in the well, a head that makes a joke and then bites a girl on the butt because even in death, she is still hungry. Death cannot keep Mac from being the butt of a joke.  

It is in Mac’s shameful death that you realize what the film is doing. Because Mac, though her name was a joke, was just as flatly characterized as everyone else is in the film. All these girls have silly, descriptive names, and all of them have extremely flat, one-dimensional characterizations. Kung-fu is sporty. Sweet is... sweet. Melody plays music, Prof is smart, Fantasy always has her head in the clouds, and Gorgeous is the most beautiful. And all of them, every single one, gets devoured by the house. And in the end, you realize why the house is eating them.  

You see, the house is hungry because the ghost who animates it is still waiting, a cautionary tale about putting your own life on hold waiting for a man who will never return. See, the aunt who owns the house was betrothed to a soldier during WWII. She promised that no matter what, she would always be waiting to marry him. When he never returned home, the aunt grows bitter, and dies unmarried. Since then, she preys upon the lives of young, unmarried women in her bridal gown, feasting upon their youth and vigor to sustain her undeath. She literally put her own dreams, her own life, aside for the sake of a man because that is what women are supposed to do in a traditional, patriarchal society. 

Once you learn this, you understand why Mac had to die first. All the girls’ names are not only descriptive, they are also flattering to an extent. You could hypothetically ask a man “What are the qualities of a good woman, one you would like to marry?” And the response might be, “I’d like someone smart,” “I’d like someone sweet,” or “I’d like someone beautiful,” etc. So in response, these girls all are simply the embodiment of an idealized feminine attribute, something desired or seen as valuable in a woman. All, of course, except for Mac. 

Mac was the joke. She was the most disposable, the one ostracized and teased even by her friends, and also just so happens to embody an attribute that is not classically seen as desirable by patriarchal society. She eats. She consumes and is consumed by consumption. Therefore, she is the first to become consumed by the House. 

All the girls meet with a similarly ironic punishment, a Dantesque hell of the film’s making. Sweet is smothered by an avalanche of pillows and mattresses. Gorgeous, sitting in front of the mirror, is swallowed up by vanity and possessed by the ideal itself. Melody’s hands are eaten by a piano. Kung-Fu physically tries to fight the house but is in the end broken by violent means. Prof drowns in a pool of blood as she reads the ghostly aunt’s diary, explaining the tragic end of the House’s owner, and dies in pursuit of knowledge. Fantasy, the final girl, is cradled in the arms of the possessed Gorgeous, and is gently comforted to eternal sleep. The final scene involves Gorgeous meeting her new stepmother in the House, and the cycle will continue anew with this new victim.  

Each girl is in the end consumed by the identity which they embody, a grim and grisly vision of what might await them if they ever lived to be adults. The point then is that girlhood and womanhood is only ever seen as an inherently objectifying gaze of the masculine, patriarchal world in which they lived. Mac, the first to go, was but an appetizer, the most visibly mockable victim in the parade of victimhood. The House devours them because society devours us, despite our innocence, despite what qualities we might embody. The aunt was virtuous too, remember. It is virtuous to be patient, to be honest, to be faithful, even unto death. But what if that life is put entirely aside for the betterment of someone else? What is left of the woman left behind to mourn, to grieve? She carries on bearing the weight of expectation. Femininity in relation to patriarchy is a funhouse mirror, warping and distorting what makes us unique, highlighting and capitalizing on our flaws. The ghostly aunt perpetuates the horrifying cycle of predatory expectation, and in turn inflicts those expectations upon the next generation. Gorgeous then the final victim lives on to victimize another.  

What is left is simply leftovers 

Considering the film made it into the Criterion Collection, it’s safe to say that I’m not the only one who sees the value in House. There is something to the cult horror flick that lingers in the minds of its viewers. Each of us is in our own way haunted by the society that we participate in. Each bears the weight of patriarchy and are either consumed or rejected by it. Both paths lead to destruction. 

House is not a hopeful movie, by any means. It's not meant to be a cautionary tale, either. Nobody is virtuous enough to survive, because there is not virtue great enough when the world values those virtues and seeks to consume those who embody them. I do think it is possible in real life to live beyond this cycle, but blaming the girls for dying to it helps nobody. We must instead learn to see why they were swallowed up by the old house and recognize ourselves in the same morality play.  

I can recommend watching it, but only if you have a stomach for some out-there gore, silly special effects, idiosyncratic directing choices, and a critical eye.  It is definitely the strangest film I’ve seen in years, and if you’re up for strange, you’re in for a treat. Just try not get too hungry.  

[useless19]

All this king boo talk, a further question. In day 15 luigi has that mention that just thinking about boos late at night can give him nightmares. how does bowser react to nightmares if Luigi were to have one while they’re sleeping in the same space? Or is that more of a when sleeping separate thing so bowser is pretty unaware?

I tend to picture Bowser as a fairly heavy sleeper, so I don't know that he gets woken up all that often by people having nightmares. At best he's going to grumble and roughly pat the bed and/or person in the vague direction of whoever's making noise, before sawing logs again. His past experiences with Junior and some of the Koopalings having nightmares also mean that he's not going to wake up in a panic just because someone shouted in their sleep or tried to shake him awake.

(It does help, having Bowser around even when he's just sleeping, because he gives people nightmares.)

It also depends what nightmare Luigi's having. Bowser isn't going to as sympathetic as he probably should be if Luigi describes the sheer terror of walking through endless rooms in a haunted mansion with a torch that keeps running out of batteries and no poltergust. What's so scary about an empty room? (Luigi: the possibility that there might be something in the dark).

Bowser's nightmares are probably more along the lines of how his day to day life went: He arranges a wedding or succeeds in a hostile takeover or finds some wondrous magic item, and then someone (usually Mario) shows up and ruins it all. It's a definitive threat, not a spooky house, and his reaction is anger (as it is with most things). You can tell when Bowser's had a bad night because he'll be grumpy all morning.

Very rarely, Luigi will have a nightmare that's about being left behind (usually by Mario). He doesn't like talking about those ones and they're more likely to happen when his subconscious can't pick up on Bowser being nearby, or Mario being in the same house when Luigi's staying at home for a bit (he tries to line things up so his visits happen when Mario's not on an adventure, but it doesn't always work out that way).

When Luigi does finally admit why he's depressed one day, it hits Bowser harder than he thought it would. It very much triggers Bowser's abandonment issues. At first, he's in denial, but it's the final push he needs to take his therapy seriously.

Ultimately, Bowser is an unsympathetic heavy sleeper, who's lucky that he's good at scaring off nightmares.

[thenightling]

Tim Burton and Racism

Tim Burton and racism

Now that "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice" is coming out people are looking back on an interview Tim Burton did where he unfortunately implied that diverse casting doesn't match his "aesthetic."

And he turned a Jewish folktale (Corpse Bride) into a story set in something that resembles nineteenth century England (even though he said he was heavily inspired by Mexican Dia de los Muertos celebrations.)

I will NOT justify him saying or doing these things (even though I have a soft spot or Corpse Bride). I will NOT justify his lack of diverse casting in the past. What I want to draw attention to is the fact that this sixty-five-year-old man seems willing to grow and change. And I want to give him the benefit of the doubt about this.

I am NOT an apologist. When Tim Burton's film-making quality went down in quality, along with his questionable views, I started to drift away from him when I had been a life long fan. I switched favorite directors over to the charming, kind, friendly, and sweet, approachable, scary-teddy-bear Goth, Guillermo del Toro. (I want that man's house and its contents!)

I will however look back on a few things about Tim Burton's previous films. One of Tim Burton's first projects was a lesser known TV adaptation (back when Disney Channel was experimental) of Hansel and Gretel, made as a homage in appreciation and love for Japanese film making.

Tim Burton had the great James Earl Jones play multiple Genies in Shelley Duval's Fairy Tale Theatre version of Aladdin. Consider how easy it would have been to have a white man in he role ala Robin Williams a few years later. This is not an excuse for his lack-of-diversity. I'm just listing these things as signs of his potential to grow and change.

Tim Burton was the first person to have a black man, Billy Dee Williams, play Harvey Dent (who comic fans will know is meant to later become Two Face.) Today you know someone would whine that this is woke / race-swap casting. But in 1989 it seemed that everyone just accepted it.

In Edward Scissorhands one of the only sympathetic characters- the ONLY good cop character, is a black man. A kind hearted officer who pities Edward and helps make it look like Edward is dead so he can escape toward the end of the movie.

In an episode of the Beetlejuice animated series, it was a little black boy who was the only one who appreciated Lydia's Spooky Boutique that she and Beetlejuice attempted to open in a mall.

When Tim Burton made Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, he made sure that Deep Roy (An Indian man who played all of the Oompa Loomps) was paid the same as the lead actor, Johnny Depp.

Deep Roy was also Napoleon Bone-apart (Gotta love the pun that dates back to Beetlejuice the animated series) in Corpse Bride.

Tim Burton's favorite composer is Jewish man, Danny Elfman, who has done nearly all of Tim Burton's movies.

I know that thanks to some statements by Caroline Thompson (who had a bitter falling out with some of the crew of Nightmare before Christmas) it is now believed that Oogie Boogie was a racist caricature and that "Oogie Boogie" started as a slur. I have yet to find actual evidence of this fact.

The notion of a Boogie man Boogying is quite old. "I'm your Boogie Man" is a popular Halloween song. I used to have a "Little bopper" dancing green monster in a fake leather jacket that rocked back and forth to the song.

Oogie Boogie was inspired by Cab Calloway. If he hadn't been played by a black man, THAT would have been racist.

Ken Page (The voice of Oogie Boogie) has debunked claims of racism in regard to the character and in fact the role has been very good to him. It's become a recurring job in his career for Nightmare before Christmas video games, the Haunted Mansion seasonal lay over, and even stage work in the Disney parks. His voice is currently featured in the Hocus Pocus Spooktacular stage show where he sings a slightly modified version of the Oogie Boogie song, this time addressing the Sanderson Sisters instead of "Sandy Claws." Ken Page never viewed the role as racist. And has even played Oogie in Nightmare before Christmas in concert multiple times.

Now we come "present day" Tim Burton where in 2022 Tim Burton became showrunner for Wednesday (the Addams Family spin-off on Netflix).

Here it felt like people were looking for reasons to accuse Tim Burton of racism. Even though the lead actress is a Latina woman, Jenna Ortega, and Luis Guzmán was Gomez people still latched on to things like "The only black characters are bullies!" which tells me they didn't really watch the show. Yes, a black boy is part of a group of bullies but he's also the only one who realizes that they are wrong and quickly turns against his former associates.

Moosa Mostafa (Islamic heritage) plays Wednesday's close friend, Eugene, with the delightful power to control bees.

And the charater Bianca is annoyingly mistaken as Wednesday's bully. Bianca was NEVER a bully! She was Wednesday's rival and frankly, Wednesday deserved to be taken down a peg. Bianca bested her in a fencing match, that is all. Later Bianca showed her true colors as a loyal friend and ally. She helped save Nevermore Academy. She was a hero.

Joy Sunday, the actress who plays Bianca, has repeatedly debunked attempts to claim Tim Burton was racist in casting her to play "The bully" Bianca (again, suggesting that the people making the accusation never watched the show). She has often said how well-treated she was and is treated on the set.

And there's heavy hints that she is going to have a very intriguing story unfold in the next season of Wednesday.

I am not justifying Tim Burton's previous lack of diversity. But I feel that he may have come to realize his mistakes. I think he might be trying to make amends with things like Wednesday. Jenna Ortega has become Tim Burton's favorite actress to work with. And I think she has, perhaps, had a positive influence on his views of diversity.

This isn't an attempt to justify his past failings. This is the suggestion that perhaps he is now willing to grow and change. He's sixty-five. How many sixty-five-year-olds are open minded enough to truly grow? I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. Actions speak louder than words and I saw a lot of positive change with how he handled / is handling Wednesday.

[eleanorxshipley]

Self-para (Post Plot Drop).

Awards After Party.

At first Eleanor thought it was some sort of sick joke-- just a horror movie flickering on the giant screen. It only took her a moment as gasps and growls filled the air to realize this hell was all too real. She didn't even know the person that was butchered and tortured, but her stomach churned at the sight, and the thought of how their last moments on earth had been spent.

It reminded her that despite the bubble she had been exiled to when it came to the different factions of their city, there were some honest-to-God monsters among them. Some in this very room. Eleanor had always the mind-set that if someone were nice to her she had no right to not be the same unless given reason to be wary. That was now out the window. Even if she didn't have a target on herself, Eleanor wasn't sure who to trust, either.

Feeling like the indulgences of the evening were about to be all over the floor if she didn't leave, Eleanor swiftly fled the room, but tried not to cause a disturbance. The last thing she wanted was attention to her weakness. Finding the nearest bathroom that she could, Eleanor drew her hair up and out of her face, just in case.

Her hands trembled and her body felt too weak to even rid herself of the churning contents. Instead, Eleanor tried to calm herself with several splashes of water to the face; uncaring if it ruined the make-up she had spent so much time on just hours before. When she had been kind of excited for the night and the awards she was up for. When there was still a sliver of optimism that everyone could gather for once without any bloodshed.

Clenching the edge of the countertop in desperation, Eleanor silently prayed. She prayed that her and everyone else would get out of that place unharmed. Especially those she cared the most about. That footage would haunt her in nightmares to come, but even worse, it made her think about Henri.

Had his murderer killed him him in one clean shot? Or was he tortured until beaten to a bloody pulp? She had been spared the details of his death save from it being a gunshot wound, but had always wondered what really went down. The very idea that some heathen could have taken Henri's sweet soul in a similar manner brought Eleanor to her knees, sobbing. It was all her fault. Not even her hands were clean anymore.

The blonde's breathing escalated, making it difficult to even think, but Eleanor knew she needed to escape. Or search for her loved ones and make sure they were safe. By the time she slipped out of the bathroom, footsteps rattled the mansion. Some she was sure were scattering to hide - others may have been hunting. Hanging out in the small guest bathroom was not an option, even if no one cared to come after her. It was too far to slip outside, nor was it an option when her friends and family were trapped inside. She couldn't lose any others in her life.

Bright eyes misted over with the burn of salty tears, as Eleanor high-tailed it to the kitchen, hoping it might be a harmless place to make camp. That the worst she might stumble upon would be a pissed off chef barking orders at his staff. However the place was silent. Eerily silent. Spotting a kitchen knife on the butcher block, Eleanor quietly took the weapon just in case it was necessary. She really didn't think she would be on anyone's radar. Then, again, maybe the guy in the video hadn't been either.

Eleanor had always been told to never hide somewhere you couldn't escape. Not to allow someone to back you into a corner. Yet, at the sound of footsteps she realized there were only two options for her. The pantry, or freezer. Neither were a great choice, but as voices grew louder she knelt to the floor and crawled her way into the roomy cupboard, thankful for the door that hid her away from sight. The thin crack in the heavy wood allowed her a small peek of the shadows wandering around the room.

Unfortunately for Eleanor, she couldn't make out a word. They could have been civilian wait staff, or fellow innocents trying to hide like herself. Everything sounded like a rampant buzzing. But she couldn't chance it. Shaking fingers curled around the handle of the knife in preparation. The jolt of her phone vibrating with texts from Lara and Samar asking if she was alright made her jump slightly, and she fished her phone out of her handbag to respond and let them know not to come to the kitchen for her. She couldn't take a chance on losing either of them.

Both texts were unsent, for the slam of something in the kitchen (perhaps the freezer door or door to the room itself, she wasn't sure) slammed with impressive strength. Out of anger or frustration... or hell-- knowing this crowd, they may have hid a body in there. The force was so fierce that it not only literally shook Eleanor, but the pantry shelves as well, causing several of the cans and items to rain down on her. Eleanor narrowly dodged a jar of spaghetti sauce as it shattered to the ground, dousing the floor and her dress in what looked like blood.

Eleanor tried to avoid the shards of glass that now sprinkled the floor, which distracted her from one last scuffle of a few spare pans careening to the floor. The very last one, as if a magnet to her, rammed Eleanor into the head on the way down.

Eleanor's phone and knife skittered across the floor as her body slumped, succumbing to the shroud of temporary darkness and unconsciousness.

[weirdwriter69]

Kiss Me Goodnight

Will comforts the reader after they wake up from a bad nightmare. Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Rating: G Tags: Fluff, Nightmares, Comfort, First Person Word Count: 1,433

Tossing and turning in my sleep, I snap awake from my nightmares. I find myself in a familiar place. Will’s favorite soft silk sheets are beneath me, and I carefully turn over to see him sleeping next to me. I sit up in the bed, trying to clear my head. I can’t recall what exactly happened in my nightmare, but it made me feel absolutely terrified like I had been swallowed by a black abyss, never to escape. I take a deep breath and try to lay back down.

A few moments later, my body viciously shakes me awake. I am forced to lay awake once again, but this time, Will stirs awake. A soft sigh escapes from his lips before he stretches and grunts. He isn’t sure what awoke him. Regardless, he puts his arm back around me, signaling me to lay back down and curl up next to him. I easily do as I am told. Pressing my ear against his chest, I love hearing the rhythmic thumping of his heart. He mumbles in his sleeping voice, “What happened, my precious one?”

I quickly whisper, “Nothing, just nightmares again.”

His discolored eyes flick open as he becomes fully alert. His glaze focuses on me. “What haunts thou at such a late hour? The only thought that should stuff our small heads is the blessed silence of sleep or if we are lucky, the holy land of dreams, but never shall thou be cursed with nightmares, not under my roof nor under my arm.”

His sweet poetic words carry the truth, yet they are far from it. I find myself haunted by my past. I left my time period so long ago; however, my past or the upcoming future taints my every waking moment.

I have spent the last three years with Will after moving out of Comte’s mansion. I decided on a whim to give up on my dream of getting my Ph.D. in America. Well, it was never my dream. It was some idea passed down onto by my parents. I was halfway through my bachelor’s when I went to study aboard one summer in Paris, and I followed a strange man through a time traveling door. The rest is history.

I do not regret my choice. I am much better off here than I was there. My passion has always been in the arts, and Will recognized that. He saw my love for creative writing and acting. Under his wing, I became a successful actor in his troupe, and I have even begun writing manuscripts for stories of my own.

Right now, it does not make sense why the past haunts me so. I should be happy and carefree with everything that has happened to me. I am with the man of my dreams for Christ’s sake, yet some part of me feels as if I am burden in this time period. Will often joking teases me that I am not fit for this time. Even after three consecutive years in the nineth century, I still stick out like a sore thumb.

I look up to Will. “It’s nothing now. I can’t recall what even happened.”

He stares at me for a moment longer to look at the truth within my eyes. His expression relaxes while he gently strokes my cheek. “There is a cloud behind thine irises. A rainy day, no matter how small, can still ruin a party, and the last thing I wish is for thee to be tortured by the pains and chills of harsh rain. I want thee to suffer no storm alone,” Will whispers to me.

His ostentatious words convey his care. Before I can form a reply, he sighs and hugs me, “If words cannot depict the horrors within your fragile mind, relax into me, my darling.”

“I think… it was a nightmare about my past. People were upset and angry with me that I left everything on the flip of a dime. They demanded that I return all the happiness I somehow stole from them. There was a points system and everything. It didn’t make much sense. Heh, my university was after me as well because of my unpaid tuition I still owe them,” I carefully pieced together what was bothering me, “Look, I don’t regret staying at all, but sometimes, I can’t help but wonder what is happening back in the future. Other times, I worry about what would have happened to me if I choose to go home or if I didn’t have the wonderful opportunity to meet you and all the other residents at the mansion.”

Will sympathetically nods, “Please do not fear what is no longer reality. I know it is one thing to say and another thing to do. I am glad that thou stayed in a realm different from thine own; however, I understand that it seems like a sacrifice on nights like this. Thou owe no one any emotion nor are thou required to pay debts with points and trials.”

I stare at the blank ceiling as the room is swallowed into a shallow silence broken by soft breathing. The words fall to come to my lips, but I let out a small chuckle, “yeah, I just worry. I worry a lot over the small reasons regardless of if they are real or not, ya know that. Heh, this reminds me of the first nightmare I had coming here about a vampire who bite me, and Sebastian warned me not to give anyone my heart or my destiny.”

Will follows along with the story. “I do recall someone running off in fear, and that is how I found the beauty in front of me. Time is a collection of random tragedies and comedies, my dear. Nothing ends how we want it to, but all’s well that ends well. As thou hast seen, time travelers are not free from the hands of chance and fate. Thou did not give up thine heart nor destiny; instead, thou followed thine heart and destiny.”

A smile slips across my face. “Thank you, Will, for being here and being there for me. I know it’s hard for you to grasp the reality we live in as well. You woke up from the 1600’s and got thrown two hundred years into the future while for me, it was getting tossed two hundred years in the past. Two sides of the same coin of troubles you might say. Forgive my ramblings, but I deeply appreciate you, Will.”

I lightly tap his nose. “In fact, I love you,” I tease him as I echo the same words he has heard over and over again, but I still mean it just as strongly as when I said it to him the first time. He pinches my nose in return. “I love you too, Juliet”

“You prick!” I jokingly yelp at him while softly smacking him with my pillow, “If we are but a fleeting, teenage romance to you… well, I- I… I don’t have a comeback for the Bard of Avon.”

He sticks out his tongue while laughing. “Like Romeo, I was at death’s door for my love, but unlike the fool who plays with the strings of love, I came to you because I heard the music. My words utter no false ills. Our romance was not the end of us. It was a new beginning in a new era.”

I can never match his mythical language, but I could quote his works back at him. “If music be the food of love, play on.”

Will puts on a fox’s smile, “a writer should know better than to quote another author so blandly. Thou did not do the line the justice it so rightfully deserves, but alas the adorable look you wear makes it worth it.”

I completely forgot that I woke up because of a nightmare. Will had his magical way of distracting me. Exhaustion sank into my bones as the moonlight came through the window. I settled down, pulling the covers back up.

Will pouts, “I may be a tease, but I wish thou would kiss me goodnight.”

I hold his warm cheek in my hand, and I press my lips gently on his forearm. “Goodnight, William. May the land of sleep bring thou dreams instead of nightmares plagued by false lies and promises. Tomorrow, we will wake up to a new day, but for now, we must rest.”

He steals a kiss from my lips. “Now, this bard can sleep happily with his love in his arms forever more.”

[kitkatt0430]

🗑

🗑 Deleted Scenes

So in my not-yet-posted Arrow S1 rewrite, I had a scene planned where Tommy finds Oliver having a nightmare, similar to the scene with Moira and Walter in canon, but that scene no longer really works since I rearranged the order a few things happen. I'll be reusing some of the dialog from this, however, and Tommy will still be walking in on the post-nightmare awkwardness of the canon scene instead of getting Ollie all to himself.

Tommy also had a nightmare here, but it's being pushed waaaay further down in the story. In the original version of the scene, however, it's Tommy's nightmare that sends him to go check in on Oliver.

(Full scene beneath the cut)

Tommy shivered and got out of bed. He pulled on his robe and slid his feet into his slippers, and quietly walked out into the hallway. A few moments later, he was peering into Oliver's room. He just needed to check on Ollie. See that he was okay and…

Oliver was not in his bed.

For a moment, the world seemed to flip upside down and Tommy had a terrible fear that everything since Oliver coming home hadn't been real. He couldn't breathe as that thought slowly crushed him…

But the bed was unmade, and Tommy sucked in a sharp breath.

Someone – Oliver – was laying on the ground, curled up underneath a blanket with a pillow tucked beneath his head. The dim light from the window cast odd shadows across Oliver's face as he shifted uncomfortably in his sleep.

It took Tommy a moment to recognize that Oliver was having a nightmare of his own.

“Oliver?”

The sleeping man mumbled something, shifting again but not actually waking. Tommy was fairly certain that whatever Oliver had said hadn't been in English. Seriously… when had Oliver learned any foreign languages? Not in college, that was for sure. In high school they'd both taken, and barely passed, Spanish. But now Oliver could speak Russian and… mutter Mandarin in his sleep?

What the hell happened on that island?

Whatever it was, Oliver was pretty clearly unready to answer questions about any of it, despite how obviously he was haunted by those five years. For now, Tommy was willing to wait for his answers.

Waiting, however, did not extend to leaving Oliver stuck in a nightmare.

“Oliver?!” Tommy tried again, louder. The other man stirred again, but stayed firmly asleep.

Walking closer, but still trying to keep a safe distance for when Oliver did wake, Tommy tried again. “Oliver, you're having a nightmare. You need to wake up, okay?” He waited a moment, for any response, then kept talking. “I know that, in your head, you're somewhere unsafe. But none of that is real, okay? You're home. You're in your room at Queen mansion and you're safe here. Thea's down the hall, probably dreaming about her latest celebrity crush, Moira and Walter are presumably asleep in their room… and if they aren't then I'm sure neither of us want to know why not. I'm here since no one wanted me to drive home with a potential concussion and I'm in this room because you're my friend and I'm worried about you. So, wake up Oliver.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then Oliver was awake. He blinked owlishly at Tommy and sat up slowly.

“Something wrong, Tommy?” Oliver asked, voice slurring slightly with sleep.

“You were having a nightmare,” Tommy told him. “Thought it would be better if I woke you from a distance. Didn't want you reacting to someone unknown crouching over you as you woke up.”

“Good call,” Oliver told him. “Mom tried waking me yesterday morning and… I was disoriented, didn't know where I was...” he looked away. “I could have hurt her.”

“But you didn't. I bet she was a little shaken, but glad you're here now and not in a place where reflexes like that are necessary.” Tommy offered Oliver a smile. “What's your opinion on sleeping bags?”

“What?”

“Well, we used to use them when we went camping…”

“I remember what sleeping bags are, Tommy,” Oliver grumbled, coming fully awake and crossing his arms.

“Then why aren't you using one?” Tommy asked, fully serious. “I get why you're not in the bed. But if you're planning on ever sleeping in one again, you have to start somewhere. A sleeping bag seems like as good a place as any to start readjusting to sleeping comfortably.”

“Oh.” Oliver shrugged half-heartedly. “I hadn't really thought about it, I guess. I… was more concerned with no one noticing.”

“I think only Thea doesn't realize you'd have problems sleeping on a mattress,” Tommy responded dryly. “Somehow, I don't think she'll care.”

“I just… don't want everyone to keep walking on eggshells around me.” Oliver shrugged. “I know you all had to move on with your lives without me. I appreciate the way everybody seems to be dropping everything to spend time with me now, but… I have to find out where I fit in eventually. I don't want everyone to be too busy pitying me for how I've changed to accept who I am now.”

“I'm an unemployed brat of a billionaire with literally nothing better to do than spend time with my miraculously not dead best friend. I'm not sure what, exactly, you think I'm dropping in favor of being here with you.” Tommy reached out a hand and pulled Oliver to his feet. “You mentioned before that you'd thought about our plans to run a nightclub sometimes while you were on the island. Well lets do it. That warehouse had the perfect set up for it; shouldn't take too long in renovations. What do you say?”

Oliver smiled and it was an oddly quiet, tentative looking expression. “Let's do it.”

Tommy felt the warm thrum of success as he grinned in return. “Now… sleeping bag?”

“I guess its still with the rest of our camping stuff in the garage?” Oliver headed for the door and Tommy followed.

“Yeah.”

[elysia-nsimp]

OC introduction: Heaven (Twisted Wonderland)

^ fairy gala outfit, I did use a ref, if ur curious and I find it again I’ll share :3:3

Basics

Heaven (she/her) is a Ramshackle student mainly based off of the bride from the Haunted Mansion, and minorly based off of the Mayor from Nightmare Before Christmas. She is… some kind of ghost, many assume, though she’s always been that way, rather than having died. Her age is, for the most part, unknown.

While usually floating, Heaven when standing on the ground is … I’d say 5’8. She’s thin, perhaps a little too much-so, and very… uncanny. She almost never blinks, and primarily eats using the mouth on top of her head, rather than the one on her face. She also only has three clawed fingers on each hand, not including her thumb.

Rarely is Heaven actually seen in any classes, and when asked about her, professors don’t typically seem to recognize the name as one of the students. However, she claims to be very good at history and ancient curses. She does not enjoy flight class because there’s “too much sunlight.”

Hobbies, Talents, Preferences

Few people even see Heaven, much less know what she does with her free time. For the most part, Heaven remains invisible, with the only sign of her presence being an odd feeling that you’re being watched or that something terrible is going to happen.

Despite this, it’s been made very clear that Heaven strongly dislikes men. She’s incredibly distrustful and will be openly aggressive and even violent towards masc presenting people who she deems some level of threat. Of course this isn’t like, all men she encounters, she’s just kind of iffy and guarded for the most part… but if you fail the vibe check? Oof good luck.

Total girls girl tho. One of the other girls murders someone? Heaven will hide the body no questions asked.

The one thing most students have come to agree on about Heaven, is that she enjoys using her range of weird ass abilities to freak people out, including but not limited to: the mouth on her head which has a sharp black tongue in it, her unpleasant aura, the fact that she knows information she realistically should not be able to know, her ability to seemingly predict the future, random teleportation… there’s more but those are the big ones.

She is. very ominous.

Backstory

Heaven is a princess, one of a now destroyed kingdom that exists somewhere in the spirit realm. From a young age, Heaven kept telling her parents that bad things would happen, to which her parents would assume she was doing kid things and making it up… only for the exact events to later happen. Because of this, word spread and the kingdom began to believe Heaven was a bad omen, bringing disaster wherever she went, and her parents locked her away in the palace Elsa From Frozen Style.

She grew bitter and upset that no one listened to her, and only assumed the worst from her because she was young. As a result, the day she learned her unique magic was the day the entire kingdom fell, being destroyed in a massive tornado no one could have predicted—no one but the one who’s overblot caused it.

Heaven was exiled from the ruins of the kingdom, while her parents and the survivors of the disaster sought refuge in a neighboring kingdom. From there, Heaven traveled on her own for a while, before deciding that the Ramshackle dorm in the living world would be a good place for her to stay… where no one knew who she was or what she had done.

Oh also she was supposed to marry a prince from another kingdom but she hated that idea. Then she fell in love with my buddy Howl’s oc Prince Jude an oops guess what, that was the prince she was supposed to marry so now they’re happy together yaaay

Unique Magic

Let the truth be revealed ,

And set free thy soul,

Lest thy fate be sealed,

And lest chaos reign control.

From this day, we doth decree,

Anticipate our destruction,

Cataclysmic reduction

Make mine own visions reality!

Calamity From Above!

An extremely powerful UM that will almost always result in extreme damage to the user. It festers a natural disaster, mimicking the extent of the user’s negative emotion.

This usually manifests as a tornado for Heaven, and given the nature of the spell, will send her into an overblot if used incorrectly.

Relationships

Ace

Heaven hates this mf. She bites her tongue because the prefect (in this version, Comet in specific), is friends with him. He sometimes feels her stares from seemingly nowhere.

Deuce

Actually, Heaven thinks Deuce is a pleasant person. He gets a pass :)

Leona

Heaven… respects Leona. She doesn’t like him, but she respects him.

Ruggie

She is ready to throw Ruggie into the next zipcode over

Jack

She’s skeptical of Jack. Not sure if she approves of him or not yet.

All of Octavinelle

I cannot put into words how much she does NOT like these three. She has close eyes on them whenever they’re near Comet, which is… often. She has thrown a pan at Floyd before because he was getting too close to Comet, and she would do it again.

Kalim

She thinks he’s obnoxious and loud, but he kind of reminds her of her husband, so he gets a pass.

Jamil

She WILL bite him /neg

Rook

BITES HIM BITES HIM BITES HIM /NEG

Idia

Shockingly??? Heaven considers Idia a friend?????? Like they met once and had a pleasant conversation (Idia was shaking like a chihuahua in the snow) and Heaven decided “this little man is silly, I’ll be keeping him :)”

Malleus

Heaven holds high respect for Malleus. She’s still keeping an eye on him tho.

Lilia

“Anyone who fucks up their food that badly cannot be trusted.” -Heaven

Sebek

HATES HIM. SHE HATES HIM SO MUCH.

Bonus!! Comet

Comet is her bestest friend in the whole wide world :))) she’d murder someone for Comet no hesitation:)))) you wanna date Comet?? You gotta pass Heaven’s vibe check :))))) (Comet will not let Heaven commit murder for her, Heaven is distraught by this)

Other works

Hejejejjewj playlist

Media

Thank Howl for the second one lol