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sylensombrr · 3 years ago

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Afterdeath Family Headcanons

No one asked for this, but I wanna talk about it and I don't wanna forget lol. Get ready, this is gonna be a long one. In my head canon, the Afterdeath family consists of Geno and Reaper,(obviously), who are the parents, and their kids Raven, Sorell, Silver, Goth, and Shino(as well as other fan kids like Candy, Momo, Demise etc. but they won't be mentioned. Might make a separate post about them if yall want/if I feel like it). They live in a huge gothic mansion, I don't know where it's located but if it's in an AU it would be next to a graveyard.(They give off huge Addams family vibes, so I had to take influence from that) They also share the house with two pets, a cat named Krueger and a raven named Archimedes, as well as three other people, Lotus, Rurik, and Palette, but I'll talk about those three later.

Geno(He/him) •Geno is in a group called "Triple Threat and Regret" consisting of him, Lust and Dance •They try to go out together every Tuesday, Geno's favorite location being Ccino's café •He's a bit of a hoarder but not much that it's a problem •Super fucking emo •Has a bit of a habit of adopting children he finds, ex. Lotus •Krueger is his cat. He found her in the graveyard. She was too old to live out in the wild, so he kept her •Horror movie fanatic, one of his favorites being A Nightmare on Elm Street •Coffee addict/Likes black coffee Reaper(He/they/it) •Best friends with Bill Sans •He's in a nameless friend group consisting of him, Bill and SD!Dream(Idea by @/_.dxnce.sxns.stan• on Instagram) •Huge heavy metal fan •Archimedes is his raven, which he treats like a familiar •Likes giving advice to his kids •Most of his kids vent to him rather than Geno •Surprisingly good cook •Wants to be or was in a band with Geno, Bill and 404 depending on the timeline/AU •He can play the guitar and scream Raven(He/him) •Loves to go to Comic-Con every time it comes around •Introduced Blueprint to rock •He and Blueprint and sometimes his cousin Gradient go to concerts together •He enjoys getting high with Blueprint and just vibing •Blueprint is a year older than him

Silver(He/it/xe) •May or may not be adopted(idk I read it somewhere, but now I can't find it) •Loves to play with Shino •His favorite siblings are Shino and Sorell •Trans male •He is a bit annoyed by Rogue but doesn't mind when ze stays there as long as ze doesn't talk to him •Has a tiktok and likes to make cosplay videos, mainly anime •Would cut you if you told anyone

Sorell(He/they) (If anyone has or knows where I can his canon info, please tell me I can't find it anywhere) •Afab nonbinary •Big anime and manga fan •Raven and them like to trade manga •He likes to hang out with Tatyana sometimes(They garden and take care of her animals together) •Asexual •Grayromatic Goth(He/they/she) •He knows about Palette and Cray's rivalry, but chooses to ignore it •He was originally pretty cautious around Lotus and Rurik but warmed up to them •Prefers to hang out with Lotus over Rurik •Cray is like a brother to him •Thinks Rogue is pretty weird but still likes zir •He tried to keep Rogue and Rurik from meeting out of fear of them fighting •Wants to wear heels so he can taller, but Geno doesn't let him(he's too young) Shino(She/her) •Loves to play with Sorell, Silver, and Rurik •She keeps trying to get Rogue to play with her and is mad that ze never does (I don't have much to say about her lol)

Miscellaneous Geno and Reaper(mainly Geno) doesn't let any of their kids ages 13 and under be in the house by themselves, so they have either Rogue, Bill, Dance, or Lust watch over them. As of recent, Geno and Reaper also like to have family get togethers with Ink ,Error and their kids(Paperjam and Gradient) as well as Fresh. It usually ends up with Error and Geno fighting/debating over something stupid with Fresh, Ink, and Reaper watching them while the kids play Mario Kart or Smash in another room.

Next onto Palette, Rurik and Lotus which is where I kinda diverted from canon mainly with Rurik and Lotus to the point it could be considered an alternate version of them. Palette(He/they) Because of being busy with battling against Nightmare and his gang, Ink and Dream couldn't and weren't prepared to take care of a child. So reluctantly Dream asked Geno and Reaper to take care of Palette until they could, who was a newborn at the time, which they gladly did agreed to. After that, Palette only saw his Dream twice again and never saw his Ink. They downright abandoned him. •Palette idolizes both Ink and Dream, seeing them more as these fictional action heroes rather than actual people •He refuses to accept that they abandoned him •He wants to go help them fight and reform Uncle Nightmare when he grows up •He didn't even know Ink's name until he met Blueprint's Ink •He has low self-esteem due to him believing he'll never live up to the fictional and unrealistic idea of his parents that he has •He can't use his magic properly due to never being taught by Ink or Dream, can only summon his roller but can't use it •Rurik will give him lessons on his magic later on •He loves and wants to be friends with everyone •Except for Cray •He thinks Cray is annoying but enjoys their rivalry •He's secretly jealous of Blueprint for having contact with his Ink Rurik(He/him)& Lotus(He/they) Rurik and Lotus somehow ended in the Underverse, and now they can't get back to the Fellverse. I have an idea why, but I'm not done with that yet. They didn't have any place to live, so Goth and Palette brought them to Geno and Reaper. Since they were most likely never gonna get back to the Fellverse, Geno offered to adopt them and let them live in their house. Lotus accepted while Rurik declined now but still decided to stay there. •Lotus did not want to go back to the Fellverse while Rurik did •They are the same ages as Palette and Goth(this may change) •They have never dated in this AU, but might in the future •Rurik idolizes his parents similar to Palette and doesn't realize that they are abusive •Lotus has never met Rurik's parents, so he doesn't know what he's going through •Lotus and Rurik have the same powers as Goth and Palette(this may also change) •Rurik refuses to use his roller since doesn't want to be seen as weak with his "girly" weapon •He uses knifes and daggers instead •Lotus hates his parents •Rurik really likes Rogue and later begins to idolize zir •Rogue sees zirself in Rurik and later acts like a parental figure towards him •Rurik likes to play with Shino •Rurik originally started to hang out with Cray just to piss Palette off, but then he actually began to enjoy his company

Okay, that's all my headcanons I have for now. Yall can steal these if you want, but a credit would be nice. Might illustrate or talk about these more in another post if I feel like it.

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lluvguts · 3 years ago

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Cool Blue ; Chapter Ten

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waiting for stars to intertwine

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☽ a/n: totally forgot to add this to the masterpost. if you've read ch ten on ao3 already than ignore this update!! there's gonna be a wip coming yall's way soon too, so be on the look out for that!! <3 love you guys

☽ warnings: blood, self-harm mention, angst

☽ fic masterlist

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Luca's heart hammered in his chest, the pain resurfacing, and no matter how hard he hugged his sides, trying to squeeze the heat from inside of him like slippery seaweed, nothing worked. He swam past the island, to cooler, harsher waters, to his home--his actual home. Not whatever he was feeling when he was around Alberto; whatever sort of home that was.

He told Alberto. A monster. That was what he was. He wasn't human, and Alberto made quick use of that information by shoving him off his knees in one swift motion, and leaving his dried-out beach towel as a reminder of it. He told him. So why did he...let it get the best of him?

His head swam, a thick heat-haze clouding his thoughts as he neared the mossy structure, blinking in the darkening waters. Luca touched the edge of the cave entrance, and winced hearing his mother's sharp intake of breath at his presence outside the house. She appeared, followed by Lorenzo, glaring down at him.

"Uh..." Luca mumbled, his words slurred. The throbbing in his gut hadn't dissipated yet, and neither had the phantom-like trembling between his shorts. "...Hey mom? Can - Can I come in?"

Daniela assessed her son before her, the shine, the sweat from Alberto's dark skin had crept beneath his scales and made a home there in the crevices, like old sand. He breathed, and the older boy's (the human's, he corrected himself) smell came rushing back with full force. Immediate. Filling his lungs sweetly but enough that he spluttered on the bubbles slipping under his tongue.

"I told you," Daniela said sternly to Luca's father. "When am I ever wrong?"

"What are you talking about?" Luca's mind began to wander without any direction, aggressively going back to the one time when he was younger and would often forget his curfew at sunset, and Daniela had joked (or had she?) she'd send Luca to The Deep with his uncle if he didn't come home at a reasonable hour. "I know it's late, I'm sorry! I just caught up in something, I swear it won't happen again Mom!"

Lorenzo frowned from behind his wife and placed his webbed hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. It was an unspoken discussion translated between the tense water.

"No, 'Renzo! Don't start with this now! You smell it too!" Daniela growled, taking her son's arm and lifting him up in the water, sniffing his crown of blue fins. "So strong, it's a damned sailor's lighthouse beam!"

"And it's land monster too..." Lorenzo commented softly, scenting the air. Daniela's eyes widened in her anger and her grip on Luca tightened.

Her tone was dangerous, venom. "You went to the land monster town? Where there's humans? In your heat??"

"Mom, no--" Luca protested, her claws beginning to hurt from where they were grasping his shoulder.

"Don't interrupt!" She snapped back. Her tail thrashed in the water, making Luca tense even though his body was already on-edge. "You...You're gonna have to wait this out someplace else! We'll send for Ugo. I can't know that my baby was out there...doing things...with some filthy land monster girl."

"Boy."

Luca and Daniela turned to see Lorenzo, who flushed in embarrassment at getting noticed.

"What?"

"It's clearly a boy, Daniela," Lorenza swam closer and examined the fevered pink scales on Luca's waist and chest. "Smell it. It's...I don't know, hun. It's stronger, I guess. I know when there's a man on those land monster boats, and that," He pointed to Luca. "Is definitely a boy. Land monster. A boy-human, whatever."

Monster. A monster. That was what he was. Luca hovered above the long sea grass of their home, in awe. He could get all of that, just by smelling him?

Daniela's flashing yellow eyes brightened and she clamped her mouth shut, words coming out quick and held back. "That...That. Doesn't. Help."

She released Luca's arm and went to Lorenzo. Luca's tail curled protectively around his leg, trying to soothe himself.

"W-Wait! You can't just leave me out here!"

"We're not leaving you," Lorenzo replied simply. "But until your heat is over, you can't be around the other kids, Lu. It's better if you stay with your uncle Ugo until the Summer season is over."

They had gone. Luca watched, but didn't truly see his parents' figures fade into the darkness of the house, where they slept, and he remained awake.

"Stupid heat! I - I hate being like this!" Luca curled in on himself, claws raking his belly, long rutted cuts chasing his fingertips. The pain burned, deeper now with the thin streams of blood billowing up above his line of vision in watery red ribbons. He averted his wavering gaze, but the blood was everywhere, seeping into his very scales. Everything simmered, a constant feeling of dread and want that was unreachable, had no low point but only one shattering crescendo all throughout his body. Constantly. Searching for relief Luca dug his claws into the pink scales deeper, stronger...

"Luca!"

"...Alberto?"

It was just a dream--or a memory. The clean tile walls of Alberto's bathroom came into focus, half-blurred from where he was lying, curled in a ball along the water in the bathtub. Alberto rose sleepily from the floor, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. At some point in the night bath towels were placed in the water for Luca, and though he didn't remember when it had happened, sifting through the weird reoccurrences of the day before, Luca knew Alberto had done it. He looked around in the stagnant bath water, to his abdomen, and the flakes of dry blood that floated across the shiny film of the surface like autumn leaves. He shivered.

The memories were short, hardly a scratch on Luca's conscious mind. Alberto had carried him all this way, from the boat into the house. A tiny serving dish once had peaches on it, but only smelled faintly of them now. Giulia's voice (what he could recall of it, trying to think back made his head hurt, everything hurt, really. He hardly remembered much of Giulia, except for her wild eyes and equally brazen red hair) was tender behind the door the night before, whispering and giggling to Alberto. She left to sleep, and Alberto stayed. He really, truly stayed. And the pain. The pain, the stupid sea-folk problems he couldn't just wait out or buddy up for--

"Are you okay?" Alberto put one cautious hand on the lip of the bathtub, eyeing him. Luca shook his head, as if to chase away the feeling, then realizing it actually translated as a no, Alberto I am anything but okay right now, he nodded his head with more urgency. He shifted in the water, the bath towels huddled around his body made a sort of nest, Luca noticed, even if he had been the one to do this. A nest, making a home for a mate, for love...even out of instinct. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did he even--

"If you say so," Alberto yawned and fell back onto the pillow he'd brought from his room, and tugged the blanket closer around his chest.

"You..." Luca tried, scanning the faded paint on the bathroom walls, the chipped mirror, the little smudge in ink over the medicine cabinet. He avoided looking at the crumpled blue tarp cast over by the toilet. "You stayed here? With me?"

"W-Well," Alberto spluttered, laughing a bit, not glancing at him. "I kinda had to. Cause, you know, no one knows you're here. And - and, my Papa had work today. Well he doesn't, not really. It's too early in the day for anyone to be open after yesterday, but he likes to be in the town with his buddies sometimes, when everyone else is asleep."

I kinda had to. Like he was...liable. He was just a...what was the word Giulia used? A little pet.

"Oh. Right, okay," Luca said absently, tracing his claw on the edge of the tub. Monster. Stupid monster. Dumb heat. Animal. Stupid, horrible, disgusting--

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Where's Giulia?" Luca asked finally, maybe a little too quickly.

"Oh! She's uh...probably still sleeping."

"I'm sorry, Alberto."

"Do you maybe want to, um...talk about it?"

Luca put his chin on the edge of the bathtub. "About what?"

"The uh...back at the island--" Alberto wrinkled his nose and stared at his knees.

"Not yet." He felt Alberto's green eyes on his scales, whispering, prodding ever so softly. But he just wasn't ready.

"Hey, it's okay," Alberto leaned down and put his head at eye-level with Luca. "It's a sea monster thing, right?"

Luca nodded, wiping his flushed face. He couldn't cry, sea-folk weren't designed for something like that, but the burning in his eyes sure felt like he was.

"We have things like that, too. For humans, I mean." Luca hated that Alberto used that word, it was...a barrier. Human. Alberto blushed and looked away. "It's pretty embarrassing, actually. But, we go through it too, you don't have to feel so alone...It's normal."

"But..." Luca mumbled, his hands clenched beneath the water. But what I did...It was gross. Why haven't you left yet? Why aren't you turning me in? I'd be worth a lot of money above the water, I'm sure. Alberto? Are you even listening? Take me away! Send me to The Deep--

"Don't be sad."

"I'm not." He muttered.

"We can do something else," Alberto said back, sitting up now to straighten out his blankets. "And if you want to talk about it later, then you can. Since you're...uh...sounding a bit more present now.

"Okay...What is it?"

He watched him rise off the floor and gather the blanket and pillow to his chest, and head for the door. Alberto looked back over his shoulder, smiling now.

"As long as you don't eat it...We can paint?"

#luberto #luca paguro #luca movie #luca fanfic #luca x alberto #alberto scofano #luca2021 #luberto fanfiction #luca fanfiction #gay fish movie #luberto fanfic #luca fandom #luca pixar #luca 2021 #luberto luca #alberluca

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webswingers · 4 years ago

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welcome to avengers campus, isn’t it nice to be back, PETER PARKER ? it’s been so long since i’ve seen you being a typical TWENTY-TWO year old INTERN AT OSCORP, the image of TOM HOLLAND against the retroreflective panels of headquarter buildings. feels like forever since i’ve seen you hanging around PIZZA PLANET. i don’t blame you, though; it fits your vibes perfectly given everyone associates you with BATTERED CONVERSE, INK SMUDGES, HALF EATEN TAKE-OUT.

death mention tw

...... hey, have you seen the news reports lately …? i heard you’ve been getting visions from MARVEL beginning to return, waking up from dreams of J. JONAH JAMESON REVEALING HIS SECRET IDENTITY. must be something in the water … say, did you always have A LEGO ANAKIN SKYWALKER on hand ? i’ve never seen you leave home without it.

BASICS:

birth name: peter benjamin parker

alias: friendly neighbourhood spiderman, pete, kid, queens, etc.

species: mutate: superhuman abilities/powers stemming from a bite from a radioactive spider

date of birth: august 10

sexuality: bisexual

gender and pronouns: cismale, he/him

occupation: intern at oscorp industries

CANON:

“canon” timeline wise, peter’s taken from the mcu so everything on this wiki are the specifics if you wanted to know in depth, but long story short:

super secret superhero living with his aunt in queens (until the Reveal), only the four people closest to him know about this; Ned, May, MJ, and Happy

lived a relatively normal ‘teenage’ life when he wasn’t a vigilante: a little bit of a loser, friend-group of one (his guy in the chair) for the majority, had crushes, got good grades, just tried his best to make his aunt and tony stark proud after the death of his mother, father, and uncle.

joined the avengers to help iron man, got a little bit out of his depth but stark helped him become a better supe, he’s a lot better but he’s still learning.

the death of his mentor and third father figure heavily influenced his behaviours and added to his constant need to keep the people he loves safe, but somehow never manages to do so and it keeps him up at night.

trusts men too easily still for some reason??

everything that has occurred in peter’s arc in the mcu timeline to this point is all canon for him, he obviously is just slowly remembering it.

EARTH 200000:

for peter’s alternative timeline, i wanted to incorporate more of who he is in some of his comic arcs, in some of the cartoon tv shows, too, but primarily his personality/some relationships are inspired by the ps4 spiderman game. i realise this can get a little confusing given all the different characters and plot lines, so if you’re confused at all please feel free to message me and we can talk about it ! i wanted to incorporate his canon relationships with people outside of what they’ve introduced in the mcu for peter, but this will be something that needs to be plotted out, so pls lmk if you wanna do so ! here are the basics:

still a super secret superhero living a few floors above aunt may, so he can still see her whenever but he has some adult privacy.

slightly older than the spidey on screen currently, is an intern at oscorp industries and admires what they do there (this is not his first internship rodeo, but he gets paid a lot better at oscorp)

still has a relatively small friendship group, peter will never be mr popular but he’s absolutely okay with that.

wants to help people constantly; other than his spidey work, he volunteers with his aunt at F.E.A.S.T and works with the people staying there so he can learn how to help the people who don’t get helped.

big believer in justice, probably rants a lot to his friends and co-workers when he’s in That Kinda Mood, but ultimately keeps to himself and stays in his lane (unless he feels he needs to intervene)

he is a lot more confident as spidey than he is as peter, so his personality shifts slightly depending on what he’s wearing

has been known to sell some of his photography when he’s a little low on rent

just a big nerd who luvs his aunt < 3

inspirations for earth 200000:

ultimate spider-man (tv), spider-man (2017, tv), spidermen (comic), mcu spidey, the spiderman ps4 game-- these are just inspirations for his personality and interests, but if there are particular plots you’d want to write out from these i’m more than happy to plot that out !

#i really really hope this makes sense #feel free to message me for plots or any clarification !!#afm.intro #intro: parker

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lover-of-skellies · 4 years ago

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Mal meets herself

A little drabble I've had sitting in my notepad app for way too long, showing what would happen if Mal met a version of herself that was still very much one of the bad guys

Mal released a startled yelp as blue threads captured her wrists and whipped her aside, sending her crashing into a stone wall. Furrowing her brow bones, she blinked and stared at the threads; these... didn't belong to Error. Traces of his magic lingered in them, sure, but he wasn't the one who'd made them. Her gaze slowly lifted and began to follow the threads back to their source, and her sockets widened in shock and fear.

As a pair of crimson sockets gazed back at her, she let out a shaky breath; there was a deep purple bruise residing on the other skeletons face, her clothes were coated in a thin layer of dust, and her eye lights were blown wide in some sort of sick euphoria; she was gazing up at herself.

The clone stared back at her, evaluating her for a moment before snorting in mock amusement, "The hell is this?... Some kinda joke? There's no way a precious little house pet like you could be another version of me." Mal untangled her wrists and rose to her feet, ignoring the shooting pain in the back of her head, "Yeah?... At least I don't look like some kinda homicidal maniac." One of her duplicates sockets twitched and she grinned widely, "It's cute that you think you can insult me so easily. It'll take a lot more than that to hurt my feelings though, you stupid glitch."

Memories flickered in Mal's mind and her figure glitched, a look of heightened resolve settling on her face as she sighed; she'd really have to play that card here, wouldn't she? Taking a deep breath, she stared directly into her clone's sockets, "Why are you still doing all this? Being the bad guy, I mean. Nothing you could ever do will be enough to make Error happy with you. He'll never care about you. The only person he cares about is himself. Nightmare doesn't give a damn about you either. You're just another pawn. A toy he'll throw away as soon as you stop being useful."

The duplicate was silent, frozen in place for a moment, before her figure began to glitch wildly. Her grin dropped, fading into a scowl as she growled, her voice lower than anticipated, "...You... You BITCH. Don't start acting like you suddenly know everything!" More blue threads were produced, and they shot toward Mal, tearing through the fabric of her clothes and tangling around individual bones. Mal was lifted up off the ground, uncharacteristically calm as she spoke, "He doesn't love you. None of them do. If you give all this up, I'll take you to people who'll actually care for you and protect you, love you as you are... You have an amazing father that thinks about you all the time, who'd do anything for you. You know who I'm talking about, don't you?" The duplicate screamed, a ferocity behind her words that was laced with venom, "SHUT THE HELL UP. YOU'RE JUST SOME WEAK, NEEDY, ATTENTION WHORE. I'M BETTER THAN YOU. ERROR LIKES ME BECAUSE I'M EVERYTHING YOU WEREN'T."

Mal let out a shaky sigh as the blue threads began to tighten around her ribs and pull ever so slightly, "He likes you because you do what he says without hesitation. You follow orders, and you don't ever complain about being nothing more than a servant to him, do you? He only values you because you make his job easier. You're useful, that's all it is. And that bruise on your face... he hit you, didn't he?... That's not what love's supposed to be like."

Stomping one foot defiantly, the duplicate roared, "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP." Mal momentarily closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, a hand flew to her face, touching the edge of her socket and producing her own blue threads. Whipping her hand out toward the other her, the blue threads lashed out, pinning the clone to the wall behind her. As she was released from the threads that had held her, she sent out another wave of her strings, capturing the duplicate's soul and withdrawing it from her chest.

As Mal tugged it closer to herself and cradled it in her hands delicately, frowning as she observed it and noticing how deep each of the visible cracks was, her sockets began to water up at the realization that this could've been her, had she ran back to Error when Necro gave her the option to leave. She could've been so much more damaged, so much more aggressive and unstable, and so much more lost, consumed by denial and uncertainty.

She slowly lifted her gaze, looking to the clone again and speaking up slowly, "Hey... What do they call you, where you're from?" The clone narrowed her sockets at Mal, growling lowly in agitation, "Why do you wanna know? It's none of your goddamn business!" As the clone's figure began to glitch heavily, Mal let out a deep sigh, beginning to approach her duplicate. Watching her closely and hissing as she began fighting against the multitude of threads that held her in place, the captive glitch bared her teeth in hopes of discouraging Mal from getting any closer.

Ignoring the display before her, Mal hummed, very delicately pushing the others soul back into her chest, "...Suboptimal Abomination Number 406. Probably 406 for short, I'm guessing?" The other female skeleton froze, her narrowed sockets suddenly widening. For a fraction of a second, she appeared lost and unsure how to respond, but as soon as her uncertainty had arrived, it was gone, replaced with more irritation and spite, "Yeah? So what? Why's it matter so much to you what my name is? You have the exact same name, so it's not like you're anything special."

Mal shook her head, her expression softening the smallest bit, "You're wrong, actually. My name's different now." Struggling against her restraints again, 406 bitterly hissed, "Good for you. Too bad I don't give a shit though." Mal pressed on, ignoring the clear hostility in her words, "It's Mal now... That's my name. It was given to me by my uncle. I didn't know we were related at the time, and for a while, I took him and everything he did for me for granted." 406 growled again, "Hey, weren't you listening to me?! I just said I don't give a shit, so why the fuck are you still talking?!"

The glitch offered her counterpart a half hearted smile and shrugged, "I figured that maybe, just maybe, you'd like to know that you have a family you could return to. A loving father, two uncles that are pretty cool, and a bunch of others that'd love to call you their friend. For starters, Dream and Ink." Upon hearing the artist's name, 406 froze, her sockets widening. Her eye lights constricted into the smallest of pin pricks, and her body began to glitch wildly as she balled her hands into fists and roared, "LIKE HELL I'D EVER BE FRIENDS WITH THAT ASSHOLE."

Arching a brow bone and tilting her head, Mal hummed, her grin slowly beginning to widen, "Awe, c'mon, what's the matter? He'll only puke on you when you're nice to him the first time. The rest of the time, he's really not that bad." 406's sockets rapidly clouded with errors, and without a warning, she began to thrash and scream, a look of blind rage settling on her face. Mal's smile dropped and she sighed, deadpanning, "...Well so much for being casual and having a sense of humor."

And then the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, accompanied by a second voice caught Mal's attention. It came as a loud, high pitched whine, nearly shrieking, "NOT MY MAMA! PLEASE DON'T HURT MY MAMA!"

Freezing in place as her eye lights quickly located the source of the voice, Mal's sockets widened in shock. Her chest began to feel heavy as she locked eyes with a small child whose body glitched heavily, a black, tar-like substance dripping down their face. A soul that glitched and resembled a bright crimson target floated outside their chest, perfectly centered, and they were clad in a pair of baggy shorts, a tank top, and a jacket much too big for them that had flecks of dust stuck to its fabric. That faded, familiar deep blue fabric, and that fur lined hood. Mal's eye lights constricted in fear as they trailed down from the child's face, noticing the black stain from liquid hate that had been smeared on the front of the jacket they wore.

Looking back to their face and meeting their gaze, only one of their sockets contained a small, white eye light. The way they clung to 406 and tried in vain to free her, wearing a thoroughly terrified expression, sent a pang of guilt straight to Mal's soul. She had no idea what to do now, and it was obvious. She needed to deal with 406, but now there was a kid here... And she couldn't risk scaring the poor thing any further.

#writing #it leaves off at a bit of an odd spot #but eh #I'm not too worried about it #undertale #undertale au #mal.exe #406.exe #necro sans #dream sans #ink sans #error sans #nightmare sans #bad sanses #killer sans #and the child here?#that's the kid that happened because 406 hooked up with Killer a handful of times #killer's the dad but he's not allowed near them

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years ago

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Howbout a story where everyone is out of the studio and they get to go back to their families?

Summary: Recovery is hard when you feel disconnected from the world around you.

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In total, Henry had spent an entire 5 years stuck inside the seemingly never-ending loop that Joey had designated as the Cycle. It was absolutely surreal to the old cartoonist, reading his ex-childhood friend turned tormentor's notes and studies on the subject matter. The neat cursive detailing mad ramblings that could pass off as the musings of an overzealous researcher observing terrified mice in a booby-trapped maze. Studying their patterns, the subsequent changes of them upon additional stimuli being added to their environment, and other insane practices that completely threw morality out of the proverbial window.

Each beginning and ending of a year, another marked failure upon a calendar oversaturated by Joey Drew's overwhelming lack of satisfaction.

Even so, as much as it ached to think about lost time, 5 years wasn't much compared to what everyone else had to endure. 20 years of inky hell were nothing to shrug about, and Henry wasn't planning on just throwing everyone out into the streets to fend for themselves.

The house so close to the mountains, an inheritance he'd never really thought would come in handy, was the only reprive these shells of people had ever had in the span of two decades full of torment. His attention the only positive social interaction that they could recall with their broken minds.

Their recovery was not his responsibility, but he felt that he owed it to them regardless of the fact. Joey's descent was entirely on the man (his heinous crimes as well), but it didn't sit well with Henry to just not do anything to help fix some of the damages of the world.

And god if it didn't fill him with hope when he watched them slowly go into the road of recovery. People on the mend, shedding their old skins to become less the product of a cruel fiddler's ambitions, and more of their old selves, albeit newer in certain aspects.

The angels remained so, with little nubby horns and skin papery white. Tired eyes of sepia toned yellows, and scars from horrors he couldn't hope to understand. That he'd seen mere shadows of while briefly imprisoned himself.

Sammy fluctuated, stuck in a cycle of trying to find himself now that he felt like he was neither Samuel Lawrence Jr, nor the Prophet that worshipped the Ink Demon. Sometimes more close to human, other times coated in thick tarry skin that reflected oddly in the light. The closest he got to his old self was very close to the truth, but his once curly blond locks were now a messy tangle of raven curls that made him look so much paler than he should be. His teeth were sharp, his eyes far too yellow, and he refused to walk around barefoot even while indoors.

Tom and Buddy were still hound-like cartoon wolves, although now the feeling of fuzz was less a tactile illusion and more of a reality. Thick winter coats and soft summer furs. The shedding was absurd, but at least if they were spotted during the day they could pass off as very big dogs just frolicking in the woods. The same could not be said for the Searchers, Lost Ones and other cartoon characters that were slowly transitioning into less revolting forms. Jack had recently become a Lost One, consistent enough to wear clothing, but still having a hard time grasping speech.

Shawn too had passed onto the Lost One phase, but his tremendous size as the largest searcher with a mighty fine top hat, had followed him into his transition. He was over 9 feet tall and (albeit more wordy than most others of his kind) surprisingly bothered by his new height. Finding clothes that fit him would be a terrible pain.

Bertrum, Lacie and Norman were a difficult topic. Their mechanical parts had ensured their forms were stable and static. They couldn't become more human in appearence, and that in turn hindered their psychological recovery considerably. Still they were fighting that uphill battle, even if very slowly.

20 whole years of suffering, and still here they were, defying Joey Drew by getting to a point where they could begin to believe they were people again.

Henry Stein couldn't be prouder.

A lot of the crew had little to no remaining family. It was somewhat devastating to both him and Linda, as they poured their all into locating the studio employees's living relatives, only to find obituaries and tracks leading absolutely nowhere.

Buddy's case hurt the most, seeing the kid so heartbroken standing over his families's graves and his own empty one, had certainly put things into perspective. Illness had taken his mother just shy of a year of their escape... It wasn't fair.

Susie was much the same, crying thick tears as she left flowers on her poor mama's grave. She prayed her last years had been full of kindness despite her daughter having all but vanished into thin air.

Contacting the Pendles took a few days, and Tom refused to contact any of his own relatives, as he hadn't had that good of a relationship with his extended family to begin with. The only people that ever mattered were dead well before the machine had been built. Henry found that to be an overall theme for nearly everyone, really.

Joey Drew Studios had been built upon the hardships of social outcasts and dreamers. Joey's preferred prey had been those he deemed easily manipulated. People that wouldn't be missed too terribly.

The two largest exceptions being Sammy and Norman, and even then the both of them were not easy cases when it came to family reunions.

Henry had no idea where to look for Sammy's sister, as he couldn't find records of an Abigail Marie Lawrence after a certain amount of years (perhaps she'd married and taken on her husband's name?), and Norman... Well... The Projectionist didn't like strangers.

That alone made Norman exceedingly opposed to seeking anyone out. He was scared that he might have an "episode" and bring harm to whatever family member was out there missing him. A painful choice, as the want for home was clear in his gestures, his signed words, his dreams...

Henry would just have to focus on those that could be brought back home. For now at least.

The day Jack's face returned to him was the very same one where he saw his husband for the first time in two decades.

He'd been a complete jitterbug, fearful that his lovely hat and wedding ring wouldn't be enough for his beloved to recognize him. Lost Ones were people shaped but still very unnatural to look upon, even if Jack's form was considerably less emaciated and his words were slowly returning to him.

Nearly chickened out too, once an older gentleman was welcomed inside and briefly spoken to by Henry. Theo had come knowing Jack wasn't completely the same, but there was no revulsion, no regrets in getting his hopes up.

Just from body language alone, Theo had seen his husband in the round figure with sad glowing eyes and a battered bowler hat that still smelled mildly of sewage. Everyone had practically melted with delight as both held each other and cried happy tears at being reunited.

And then the ink of Jack's face began to melt off. Sepia skin and dark inky eyes, a round face framed by poofy locks. Peace of mind had let the biggest wounds heal. His voice was still not completely back, but both he and Theo had always held silent conversations. This wasn't an issue.

Saying goodbye was hard, but it gave everyone hope. If Jack who'd been something as mindless as a Searcher, could heal and move on, then nothing was stopping anyone else from living their best lives as well.

The will to live was further renewed.

Linda ends up being the one to ultimately find Sammy's younger sister. To their surprise, it brings a slice of the Polk family right to them as well.

Abigail Marie Lawrence was only such by blood. By name, she was now a Polk herself.

Married to Nelson, one of Norman's many nephews, and a childhood friend of hers.

Together they had a son. A tired looking young man with an uncanny resemblance to his uncle of all things. Mostly in the eyes. The hazel coloration that Sammy and Abby once shared had passed on to Lucian Polk.

Meeting them was... Awkward.

And very heated.

20 years of unexpected separation had brought up a lot of turmoils that neither knew how to deal with. In the end Linda and Henry had to separate the screaming pair, enough so that both hot-headed folk could cool down and then rush back to hug each other tightly and cry. Regretful and remorseful words spilling out with the tears and snot.

Overall, not something Henry ever wanted to get caught up in ever again. The Lawrence children were a little too intense for his taste.

When asked about Norman however... Well... Henry would have rather been stuck between a screaming match than be forced to explain about the Projectionist...

Avoidance brought him questioning looks, but a simple nod and a look that silenced any further questions. Nelson Polk was a gracious man that accepted when others needed time to themselves. He was only a brute by appearence after all.

He'd stated calmly that if Norman ever felt ready, he'd be welcomed with open arms regardless of whatever twisted form he may have taken on.

Layer that same day, Sammy told Henry that upon being told this, the Projectionist seemed happier in some way.

Recovery is hard when you feel disconnected from the world around you. For a long while, Henry feared that the gap between the years of their freedom, imprisonment, and subsequent rescue, would prove too much for everyone who'd become an inky abomination.

Was he ever so glad to be mistaken.

While there were many bumps on the proverbial road, and many a trial to face, everyone was thriving. Getting used to a world that was alien to them in some ways, but full of possibilities for them to explore.

Some were greatly limited by their conditions, but they too were managing.

Lacie had been steadily repaired and updated with her and Tom's combined efforts, and together they'd eventually figured out how to give Bertrum a better quality of life, through slowly converting his amusement ride body into something of a spider-like mobile unit. A little frightening at first, but progress towards constructing him an animatronic body perhaps? The world was their oyster. Their terrifying mechanical oyster.

Sammy's human form had eventually stabilized to where he only became his inky self when at his very limit, and Norman's mental faculties had return to a point where he finally felt safe reuniting with his family. They were initially quite horrified by the state of him, but didn't reject him. Merely fretted that he may be in pain.

His wife had long since remarried, but that wasn't much of an issue for him. Norman liked her new wife, she was everything the mother of his children deserved! And he'd thanked her as best he could for looking after his little ones when he couldn't.

Through a lot of home-schooling (bless Linda for being an excellent teacher), Buddy had finished the studies he'd abandoned to provide for his family. While he couldn't exactly get a job, it felt good to accomplish a goal he'd thought impossible.

He became a bit of an honorary Stein once Linda and the girls took a shine to him. It hurt that he couldn't live with them back in the city, but he liked the freedom the woodland location gave him. He was a wolf after all, even if at heart he was a young lad full of artistic ambition.

Susie and Allison were the easiest to rehabilitate in the end. They fought their demons and they came to terms with who they were. While Susie still had a few issues with her image and identity, she was doing formidably well in the writing industry.

Disguising her tale as a story of fiction as a means to vent, had sparked a talent she'd never thought she had.

Allison in turn took up the chore of making their home self-sustaining. Gardening, water filtration, the works. She processed her pain and grief through hard work and physical activities. Then when she was satisfied, she'd sit under the stars and reflect.

Many times she was joined by others who found the stars to be great listeners to their own plights. The company felt comfortable.

It felt good to trust again. Felt even better when a certain wolf sat besides her and admire the expanses of their freedom right beside her.

Yes, Henry Stein was truly proud of everyone's progress. He was glad he'd stuck around to witness it.

#eps writes:#bendy and the ink machine #batim #post-studio au #long post

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 4 years ago

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Quick! rate your Sams by how good they are at childcare go!

Mainverse (before being exposed to Joey) - 8/10 He’s a twenty something aspiring musician, not an expert in child care. So naturally he’ll make a few mistakes, but he’s sweet, he listens to his charges, and he takes his newfound responsibility very seriously. Like all Sammies on this list (sans the one below), he is an absolute master at bedtime stories and lullabies.

Mainverse (Post Joey exposure) - 1/10 Do not let your child near this angry drunk. The best case scenario is that he’s a terrible influence.

Mainverse (during the studio) - 9/10 It’s sad for him to see little lambs pop up in the studio already succumbed to the ink by the time he eventually finds them, but at least he can keep them safe among his flock so that they don’t have to cry themselves to sleep alone inside the little miracle stations anymore.

Post studio AU - 9/10 (Assuming he didn’t kidnap children while he was on the lam) The differences between how he cares for children while in the studio and how he cares for them outside the studio all basically boil down to he has more resources to properly take care of them now.

Sheepdog Sammy AU - 9.5/10 This is basically Sammy but a Boris. So for the lambs in the flock he protects, he’s both a good guard dog and a good therapy dog.

ATDT AU Sampson - 7.5/10 He’ll fight tooth and nail to keep the kids who stumbled into the studio alive and out of the ink’s grasp. But if someone dumps kids into his care unprompted and just wants him to ‘deal with it’, you bet your ass he’s going to teach those kids every swear word in the book, every single annoying song he can think of, and spoil them absolutely rotten out of sheer spite.

ATDT AU Samuel - 8/10 A good voice of reason to tell your problems to and a good shoulder to cry on. Lives to serve and might unintentionally spoil the kid at points, but he’s not spineless and when he gets strict, he gets scary.

That one fic where I rewrote DCTL Sammy’s introduction - 6/10 In spite of his creepy and harsh demeanor and the unflattering rumors around him, he does mean well as is just trying to get Buddy out of a bad situation the only way he knows how: Intimidation. Too bad any and all good intentions he has can and will be corrupted by the ink.

Joey Drew in Dreams Come True AU - 4.5/10 When it comes to children he’s more of a fun uncle that you only see on Christmas and other special occasions type, but not a proper parental figure. Why is he ranked so low if the problem is he’s ‘too fun’? He’s a living cartoon and unintentionally puts them in cartoonish amounts of life-threatening danger.

Monster AU (pre meeting Joey) - depends on the species. Human child? 0/10 he will eat them, human children are a rare delicacy that he will happily indulge in if given the opportunity. Bird monster child? 10/10 feeds his little chicks the best meats he can hunt down, keeps them warm and safe, and throws them of the very best cliff he can throw them off of to make sure they develop excellent flying skills! Other type of monster child? 50-50 shot of either getting eaten or thrown off a cliff at some point.

Monster AU (Post getting humanity and humility beaten into him by Joey) - 10/10 He takes care of a pack of werewolves every month and children are much, MUCH easier to handle than a pack of werewolves. The kids greatly prefer his bird monster form to his human one as they can fly on his back when he’s a giant bird. Although Wally panics at the mere thought of letting one of his own kiddos onto Sammy’s back. He knows ravens do that ‘flip’ thing when they fly!

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #ATDT AU #sheepdog sammy au #Joey Drew In Dreams Come True AU #batim monster au

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nightmarenoise · 5 years ago

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Just comparing two cartoons I love

I understand that nobody asked in any capacity, but here I go anyway:

It feels fair to compare Ducktales 2017 to Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2018), not only because they're only about a year apart and truly, what is a year, but also because they

1. Both use this style that looks like it jumped straight out of a comic book. Okay, it's mostly the solidly inked shadows, but it gives me, personally, comic-y vibes.

2. They have taken what's arguably the main characters (the triplets for DT, the Turtles for TMNT) and shaken the formula up a good bit. Were the triplets formerly indistinguishable and all had the exact same personality, interests and voice actor, they are now three entirely separate entities with different traits and appearances. And while the turtles had about one defining personality trait and looked basically the same, save for the color of their masks, Rise made them different species of turtle to justify giving them radically different designs and three-dimensional personalities. Both shows faced criticism for this decision from people who cannot deal with change. Despite this, in both cases, it just works and does so incredibly well.

3. The oldest bros wear red.

4. We have two middle bros associated with the color blue who are both voiced by Ben Schwartz.

5. Both shows have a focus on family, with Ducktales especially focusing on found family and Rise on brotherhood.

6. Anime references!

Ducktales has a larger cast overall, with a lot of different characters all interacting with each other and they all have the most pleasant voices I've ever heard in my entire life. It's all solidly animated, the style is consistent and the animation is fluid, the characters are diverse and they're all lovely in their own right, except for those who aren't. The writing is top notch. Everyone feels consistent despite the large cast and it's delightful to watch all those interesting people interact with each other in their own way. The show also handles its mystery elements and occasional action scenes incredibly well, building suspense and delivering laughs and gut punches without hesitation. They juggle different tones like a professional clown, except the true clown was us, the audience, all along, for ever having doubted them.

The overarching plot of Ducktales, for its first two seasons, was mostly to uncover the mystery of what had happened to the mother of the triplets and all that would entail. Mystery and mythical elements will likely continue to be afoot for season 3.

Rise works with less focal characters, we have the Turtles, Splinter and April as well as various bad guys, but more than makes up for it with a lot of animation. A lot a lot of animation and it's all high quality. There's usually so much going on on-screen that a watching it once isn't enough to catch it all. Despite that, it doesn't feel crowded or rushed. Lots of dynamic shots and incredibly-choreographed action scenes, but nothing the thoroughly solid writing has to hide behind. Even when the baddies aren't the main concern, they're still well-rounded, interesting characters with unique abilities and motivations. Although, most of the mutants are just really feral. Still a delightfully diverse cast.

The turtles on the other hand spent their first season trying to foil their various foes, from a yokai trying to mutate all of humanity, to his mutants, to dealing with random mythical stuff, to the nefarious Foot Clan trying to reassemble the Dark Armor in the shadows. It's generally a more action-driven show, but they still find the time for some heartfelt moments.

The triplets 2.0

Despite their conventiently color-coded caps, they were really mostly the same character possessing three different bodies at a time. Well, the times of eerie The Shining like-twins, except extended to triplets, are over!

We have Huey, the oldest brother, voiced by Danny Pudi. He's a gentle, intellectual soul who values red hats, science, scout badges and checklists. Huey is arguably the closest in characterization to the original triplets, with some additional neat freak sprinkled in for flavor. He tries to be the responsible older sibling and keep his brothers under control and out of trouble. He also seems to have the most fiery temper of the bunch and should clearly not be pressed to the breaking point. He's my personal favorite and I heard season 3 will bring more focus to him, which makes me elated to hear. 888/10.

Middle child Dewey, the blue one, voiced by Ben Schwartz, who will inevitably come for all the iconic blue characters. He's very clearly the middle one, because he craves attention and validation and occasionally dreams of being an only child. Dewey is the one who started the investigation into their mom's disappearance and kept it from his brothers, partially to save them from hurt, but also because he wanted to feel special. He's the most interested in going on adventures with their uncle, but can get reckless when doing so. He's a bit of a spotlight hog, who has his own talk show that nobody watches and sings his own theme song when he needs to get hyped up, or just to fill this silence. This may sound kind of negative, but rest assured, he's a good, sweet boy. The focal triplet for the first season. 500/10.

Louie, the evil triplet, a schemer and a conman. Voiced by Bobby Moynihan. The youngest of the bunch. While they call him evil, he's really far too lazy to cause serious harm, except for when it's his laziness that's causing him to take dangerous shortcuts, oops. He dreams of making a fortune, but without having to work for it and preferably without any responsibility either, thank you. He also occasionally dreams of being a spoiled fat cat. Despite his chill demeanor, he can be a bit of a crybaby and those tears are only fake 50% of the time. I feel like he likes getting babied, but mainly because that means there's less work for him to do. Season 2, which focuses more on him, reveals that he's actually quite brilliant, capable of seeing all the angles and giving him some chessmaster-like qualities. He needs to learn to use those abilities for good. 665/10.

Hi, she's Webbie! The honorary triplet, who also got a massive makeover, from annoying token girl tagalong to socially awkward, adorkable action girl. Be careful who you call ugly in middle school, indeed. Like a more ferocious Mabel Pines, she has a grappling hook and years of martial arts training under her belt. Webbie can absolutely decimate you, but won't, because she's a sweet girl. Voiced by Kate Micucci. She continues to like unicorns and the color pink, but assuredly in the most badass of ways. She helped Dewey with his quest to uncover the mystery of his missing mom, but works well with all of the triplets, with Huey taking her under his wing a bit and Louie trying to get her to chill out more. Webbie is a sweetheart and I would die for her, were it not completely unnecessary, since she's more than capable of taking care of herself. ∞/10.

A lot of the supporting cast also saw updates and changes, for instance Gyro being a genius without social skills and Fenton being an adorkable scientist, but again, they work really well. They're interesting new takes on beloved characters. Even the new additions to the cast are great. In short, I love me some birds and am excited for season 3, Disney, get your scheduling together.

The Turtles 2.14.2 - I upgraded my upgrade in the middle of the upgrade

Also, these guys have seen so many different iterations in their, what, 30+ years of existence. As someone with no prior attachment to the turtle brand, I don't have a lot to say here. Leo's not the leader in this one and Raph has more personality than being angry at Leo for being the leader. Donnie is not just a random nerd spouting technobabble and Mikey has more depth than yelling the catchphrase every now and again. Apparently, this made people upset. I don't know how to help you with that. The middle brothers exude some high chaotic energy and should not be left unsupervised, but the oldest and youngest seem fairly stable.

Raphael, the red-bandana'd alligator snapping turtle is an imposing figure. He's the oldest and therefore team leader by default. Raph has no reason to be upset at Leo, so he isn't. Despite his ferocious appearance, he's a soft guy, who likes teddies and doting on his brothers, but fears puppets. He's a bit of a knucklehead, most of his plans involve smashing things with his tonfa and he may refer to himself in the third person in the heat of the moment, but he possesses emotional intelligence, is open about his feelings and looks after his brothers. He is big and and strong, but his heart is bigger and stronger. He especially loves small animals animals, who don't usually return his feelings. RIP in F. This responsible guy is voiced by Omar Benson Miller. 300/10, very soft. Somehow both the heart and the big guy of the group.

Donatello has been upgraded from second-to-youngest to second-to-oldest, not that it makes much of a difference. His color of choice is purple and he continues in the character's tradition of being a nerd, although this time, with self-confidence. Donnie is very sure of himself and his abilities. As a spiny soft-shell turtle, he's less sure of his shell, but that's okay, he's made robotic battle shells to make up for it and his bō is the mother of all multitools. This guy can build you a tank out of a buggie and upgrade your animatronic into something to give the FNAF franchise a run for its money. He's the smartest of the four and when not focused on his phone, very focused on the mission. Due to having to deal with his bros, he can be exasperated a lot. Thinks of himself as an emotionally unavailable bad boy, even though he's just really sensitive and wants his dad or someone parent-aged to tell him they're proud of him. Theater kid. 999/10, give the middle child a hug and some coffee, you can't tell me he has a healthy sleep cycle. This sarcastic nerd is brought to you by Josh Brener.

Leonardo, Ben Schwartz's second blue character (Sonic (2020) being the third under his belt) and also his second ninja after Randy Cunningham. He's not the leader. He's still a good character. Leo has approximately 800 charisma and unwavering faith in both, his family and himself. Mostly himself though. Like Louie, season 2 revealed that he is a master of prediction and playing people like the cheap kazoo you can't tell me he doesn't have to play Darude's Sandstorm on. He dabs, he boards, he will pun you to death and back and he has an Odachi that can cut through space. Leo likes hogging the spotlight when given the chance and wants to be showered with attention and praise. Having four kids really only means twice the middle child nonsense. Leo is a red-eared slider, the original species of the TMNT, as I've been told. He's also the best at being a ninja, but usually too lazy to really apply himself. He's younger than Donnie, but tumblr suggested to read the two as twins, since they're approximately the same age, which sheds a whole new light on their dynamic and frankly, makes way too much sense. 420/10, for our memelord Leonardo.

Michelangelo, the eternally youngest of the bunch. An artiste, who puts stickers on himself, tags the lair, has a spiritual connection to his skateboard and the color orange. Mikey loves all things arts and craft, but he also tries his hands at cooking. He idolizes famous TV chefs and can do pretty much anything out of and into pizza. He's funny, without being annoying, like I feel a lot of other iterations of this character are. It's an easy pitfall for comic relief guys, but this one is more than that. If that's an issue, feel free to leave my house. Mikey is genuinely sweet and happy, optimistic and soft, but also the one brother who knows when it's time to take off the gloves and just get straight to the point. He's open about and in touch with his feelings. He's just baby. Don't treat him as one though. A lot of promo stuff says Leo has taken him under his wing, but he's had more episodes together with Donnie. Not that I'm complaining, they work very well together. Mikey and Raph are both the emotional centers of the group. Does not mind being yeeted after retracting into his shell, as box turtles may do. (Disclaimer, do not yeet actual box turtles!) His weapon of choice is a Kusari-Fundo that can turn into a fire-demon and is about as unpredictable as he is. Likes to jump and bounce around. Probably does parkour. Voiced by Brandon Mychal Smith who is audibly having a blast. 500/10, just an all around Kusari-fun guy.

For last, but certainly not least, April O'Neil, my girl, who saw an upgrade from flip-flopping love interest who was vaguely ninja-ing, but mostly damsel in distress-ing, to all-around spunky powerhouse and by God, she is glowing. Rise has her more as a big sister figure to the turtles, and I will not be told otherwise. She is independent and don't need no man, mutant or no. She has her teleporting pet, her faith in herself, her pinpoint baseball hitting skills and the a complete and utter lack of fear. Despite being a weirdness magnet, April is perfectly comfortable. She would like to be able to keep a job, maybe, but she has loving friends who respect and love her. Surprisingly good a ninja, fearless and fun. Occasionally thinks about being popular at school, but it's really not a big concern, she's not gonna throw a tantrum over it or anything. April is very chill. Not likely to be damseled. More likely to run after the turtles and clean up their messes or save them and everyone involved is fine with that.

The late 10's are really coming in to show us how dynamic and well-written female characters that aren't just "strong", but three-dimensional and relatable are done, huh?

An iconic performance by Kat Graham and ∞/10 for being the honorary better ninja non-mutant non-turtle and best big sister.

Here we have it, two older properties, having new life breathed into them to make them fresh and enjoyable. Have a new spin put on them, to better fit in with our current world. You can feel the love oozing out of every frame. At the end of the day, of course, it all boils down to taste and whether or not you like something. I gave Ducktales 2017 a go because a lot of the staff from Gravity Falls went to work on it and if you don't know me, I love me some Gravity Falls. It's a good show and I enjoy it. I recently got into Rise and while I don't know much about the people working on it, it is also a greatly enjoyable show, easily on the same level as Ducktales, if not above, yet with far less people speaking about it. Which is frankly saddening. I can only recommend the two of them wholeheartedly. If you love animation, yourself and occasionally feeling things, these are for you!

#ducktales 2017 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #webbie vanderquack #raphael #donatello #leonardo #michelangelo #april o'neil

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screensirenfic · 5 years ago

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Black Leather - Chapter 1

Life had remained largely the same, despite the obvious overhanging changes over the last year. I mean; life had always been hectic; disastrous even, taking turns and downright derailing at the worst times. We’d experienced loss again and again, been chewed up and spat on, but got up fighting; because that was what being a Hopper meant, being too damn stubborn to die. It was in the genes.

Life had gotten weirder. The discovery of real, living and fucking breathing monsters had been a big ole’ “fuck you” to logic, but science seemed to back it up with the uncovering of Hawkins lab and whatever sinister experiments they were running there. Of course; that wasn’t a concern any more, considering old Uncle Sam had shut that down quicker than the health inspector at Benny’s; God rest his soul.

But even with the finality of the death and burial of Hawkins greatest catastrophe/mystery; it still left a lot of bodies in its wake, one of which I was currently adjusting to calling sister.

Eleven. El. Jane. Whatever people preferred to call her; she was currently sharing a home with Me and my dad, as we all played happy families in the darkened depths of Indiana woodlands. I liked the kid; I’d admit it. She was sweet in her own way, and knowing she could toss shit around with her mind made her much cooler than the average thirteen year old. Of course; all of that was a secret. Everything about El was; as far as the government knew, she didn’t exist. It was the price that had to be payed for safety, and God knew dad valued that above all else: including our sanity.

So instead we stayed shut inside that little wooden hut forgotten by time and space, sneaking in and out at the rising and setting of the sun, like criminals or bats in the night. It was enough to drive you crazy; and trust me, dad was already half way there. Tensions ran high all the time; higher than they had at the height of his PTSD, and God; sometimes I just wanted to scream. For someone to address that shit wasn’t normal, rather than sitting around and pretending that it is.

The only true bit of normality was school and work. Mainly just school, as the arrival of a new dependant meant my work hours were seriously fucked. Wasn’t the kid’s fault; dad was a workaholic, didn’t know when to call it a day, and that left me picking up the pieces. It was Sara all over again. At least back then things were normal. There was still trauma, but it was the kind normal families had. A missing parent; semi-alcoholic father; that was shit everybody had to deal with, but this. This was the stuff that only happened in B movies.

—————————————

God; sometimes I really loved having a motorcycle. The wind slapping your face like a Californian wave; that rush of adrenaline when you take a corner a little too fast, when death seems just moments away. It was like flying; soaring through the air without limits. No; it was more visceral than that. Like free falling; the absolute relinquishment of control as you hurtle through the ozone, the earth rising up at you as the void closes in; death approaching at a hundred miles per hour.

You couldn’t compare it to any other sensation. I’d seen kids trying to mimic it on tiny dirt bikes painted up like NASCARS; their little legs spinning the pedals like turbines as they tried to reach just a lick of that speed. To feel the breeze on their face; the closest you could get to freedom in the tiny township of Hawkins, Indiana. That rush didn’t touch the one I felt when I rode my Triumph, hitting 80 as I threaded through standstill traffic; the reaper breathing down my neck.

But like all great rides; it came to an end too soon, the nondescript flat roofed shape of Hawkins High rapidly approaching. I pulled into the parking lot, cruising through row after row of dusty cars; from the beat up old Pacard, to the shiny new Chevy.

I parked a couple of rows before the school, swinging my leg over my saddle as I finally accepted my joy ride was over and I’d have to land back on earth.

“Hey; Lola!” A familiar voice rang out as I pulled off my helmet, shaking my hair loose, less the dreaded helmet hair take hold.

Nancy Wheeler; Hawkins High’s very own Miss Perfect, the princess of Indiana. She was the daughter fathers dreamed of; pretty in a girl next door kind of way, well behaved, a high achiever; the kind to bring home boys who got her back by ten and kissed goodbye at the door. I got called other things. Jail bait, wild child; a lawsuit waiting to happen. Well meaning grandparents used girls like me as a cautionary tale to expecting parents on what too little discipline did to ‘nice little girls’.

Not that I didn’t like Nancy. She was nice, and Steve’s girlfriend too. Besides, being a princess was hard; a lot of expectations to live up to, a lot of hopes to let down. I never had that problem, and with her cotton candy smile; I couldn’t help but give one in return.

“Hey Nance” I chirped, placing my helmet on the back of my motorcycle and knowing damn well no one would dare touch it.

“Steve was just wondering if you’d take a look at his college application...” She began, and I could see the flustered figure in question trailing behind her.

“He’s been finding it hard to find the right words, and we know how you never get tongue tied.” She joked, and I took it at face value; I was getting A’s, despite the perception that girls like me were only good at one thing and one thing only.

“Is that so, Steve?” I asked, unable to hide my smugness as I stared at him, despite his insistence on avoiding eye contact.

There was nothing I enjoyed more than really digging into him. It was just too easy; to push all his buttons. Of course; he did the same in return, but who really had more to lose? The self proclaimed king of Hawkins High, or his leather clad sidekick?

“Yeah, sowouldyoutakealookatit?” He mumbled, rubbing his nose as if he could hide the words as you would a cough.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t quite get that.” I purred with all forced sweetness and sacharine smiles. I could never resist the urge to really twist the knife.

“I said, would you take a look at it...” he sighed; a visible strain on the admission of inferiority.

“Please...” He added, drawing a smile to my lips. Sweet, stubborn Steve; too good to ask for help, and just desperate enough to need it; but then what are friends for?

“Sure thing Harrington...” I grinned, finally plucking the crumpled stack of papers from Nancy’s grasp. “Would love to.” I removed my gaze from him, savouring the rare look of humbleness on his face, and turned it upon the paper.

——————————————-

Steve Harrington was many things. Charismatic. Caring. Rich. Good looking. A great guy with almost endless good qualities, but smart wasn’t one of them. I’d spent the best part of a quarter of an hour troweling through his paper with about as much joy as a prospector in a dry well, but was yet to strike gold.

It really was garbage, and that was treating it nicely, but still both me and Nancy tried our best to revive a corpse; not because we felt there was anything worth saving, but because it was Steve, and we cared about his future; even if it was doomed to culminate behind a deep fat fryer in a fast food joint.

My eyes trailed across line after line of smudged ink; much of it crossed out and rewritten in the margins, trying to make sense of whatever it was he was trying to convey in a comparison between WW2 and a basketball game between us and Northern.

“And did you...” I said; pointing out a particular eyebrow raising line, talking about the all American value of victory.

“Yeah; that’s what I thought...” She agreed, picking up off my tone and honing in on the line in question.

“Uh huh” I mumbled reading onwards on what was a virtual mine field of badly used metaphors and poorly linked stories.

Steve didn’t seem to fare much better than his essay, pacing restlessly up and down a small stretch of parking lot, reminding me distinctly of an expecting father in the delivery room. However; his midwives were much more willing to take our time perfecting the delivery of his academic baby.

“And don’t you think...” Nancy trailed of, redirecting my attention to a sentence circled in red marker. Another misused simile courtesy of the genius that is Steven Harrington.

“My thoughts exactly.” I concurred, knowing that we were both desperately avoiding as coming across as purposely nitpicky with his work.

A loud, impatient sigh interrupted our conversation as Steve’s nerves finally reached their limit.

“I’m sorry, but are you girls anywhere near done?” He asked, drawing our attention away from the paper and up to his signature Steve Harrington pose; hands perched on his hips.

“We were just trying to find some constructive criticism to give you...” She began her tidy little avoidance bullshit; the kind that came with years of forced diplomacy beneath the perfect four bed suburban roof. The kind of bullshit I couldn’t stand; let alone tolerate. I had to put an end to it.

I strolled up to Steve, shoving the proverbial toilet paper he’d used as an application to his chest in a way that told him loud and clear what the truth about his efforts were.

“She means your paper sucks, man...” I translated; my words holding none of her polish, but all of the dirty intentions beneath.

“I wasn’t going to say that. I was...” She said; already backpedaling the hard truth I’d spilt onto the table.

Steve just gave her a look. He knew she was lying; if only to save his feelings. He may not have been smart, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Okay; it’s a little suckish, but nothing we can’t fix...” She offered in consolation; a weak smile the most she could offer in her lie.

I was about to object, knowing the hole she was digging the both of us was deeper than we could deliver upon, when a grisly roar overshadowed all thought. I knew the sound well; all eyes turning to it’s source, the newest arrival to Hawkins.

A Chevy Camaro; older, probably fixed up by some dedicated hobby mechanic with too much time on his hands. I’d seen hundreds of them in the shop in varying states of rustiness; most beyond repair, but still, some insistent gashead would insist it could be done, sinking fistfuls of dollar into what was essentially raising the titanic.

“Nice car.” Nancy remarked, and for a princess like her to notice, it must be true. It was in good shape. Baby blue with just the slightest of wear on the paint; someone took a lot of care with their baby. Fuck; if I had one, I probably would too!

“Yeah, but I bet the backseat is a nightmare.” Joked Steve; insecurity seeping into what was meant to be a light dig.

Not the only man with a nice ride on the block now.

His dig fell short when the driver stepped out, hard rock pounding in his stead.

Pretty; was my first thought. Like his car, he had all the well tailored ruggedness that created the perfect balance between pretty boy and rebel. Blonde haired, blue eyed; think James Dean if he had a mullet. His clothes looked good too; double denim that clung to him like a second skin, with a white t shirt that really left nothing to hide.

Smoking a cigarette with movie star casualness, if I’d seen him in a movie, I’d be drooling. But this wasn’t a movie; this was Indiana, and I’d seen too many of his type roll up to Charlie’s in pretty cars with prettier faces thinking it meant the world owed them something. That that something was hidden somewhere down the denim shorts I wore so religiously.

I’d had it with pretty boys. They could all go jump off a bridge.

And as if he was already decided to live up to the cliche, he went and cemented it when he strolled past us, dripping sex and arrogance; his eyes trailing up and down me like I was something to be bartered for, like I could be bought.

“What an asshole.” Sneered Steve, taking the words out of my mouth, and I almost smiled; because of course he’d be the one to say it.

But I didn’t; not when the new kid was leering at me with all the restraint of a hungry dog.

I watched him lick his lips; that’s right, lick. his. lips. Pink tongue peaking out past too perfect teeth, running across a full bottom lip. I tried telling myself it wasn’t sexual. That it was just a private little tick that he couldn’t control. But his eyes had never left me; a dark grin that promised any number of sins stretched across a heartbreaker’s face.

“Yeah. An asshole.” I agreed; the word rolling off my tongue automatically, but I don’t think my heart was in it. That frightened me.

That, and the small itch in my stomach that grew every time his bright baby blues met my green.

Finally; those blues relented, tongue disappearing behind white teeth as he shot me a smile that could’ve sent knees buckling. A quick wink and he was done, strutting into Hawkins High like a stormy breeze that was sure to rock the entire school.

“Hey Lo. You listening?” Came Steve’s voice through a fog of cigarette smoke and gasoline; the smell reminiscent of home, despite its cause being far from homely.

“Yeah. Sure...” I replied, tearing my eyes from where the newcomer had disappeared into the school.

“Let’s get to class before we’re late.” I said, shouldering my bag as if it was any other Monday morning. And it was.

Just another manic Monday.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #steve harrington #Nancy Wheeler #stranger things fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #strangerthingsfanfiction #strangerthingsfanfic #original character #stranger things oc #strangerthings oc #jim hopper daughter #hopper daughter

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alonelytinywriter · 5 years ago

Text

Bright Shadows

Yandere! Present Mic / Yandere! Eraserhead / Original Female Character

Playlist ~ War of Hears (Acoustic Version) - Ruelle

Name: Izuku Nezuko ~ Birthday: October 28th ~ Age: 24 ~ Hair Color: White ~ Eye Color: Red ~ Gender: Female ~ Height: 4′8′’ ~ Quirk: Shadow Walking

Appearance: Nesuko is a short girl with a noticeably lithe, light figure. She is an albino, with snow-white hair, pale skin, and red eyes: even her eyebrows and lashes are white, though she commonly has her lashes darkened at the local Salon near her home in Tokyo. Her hair is extremely long, and reaches down to her knees at the beginning of the story, but she chops most of it off later on. Her most noticeable feature is her prosthetic left leg, which has a large lace sleeve design etched into the material in red. ~ Nezuko’s casual outfits typically consist of sweatpants or leggings, and loose, comfortable tops. As a ballet dancer Nesuko is forced into uncomfortable clothing and she wants to be able to relax off stage, although she is not apposed to wearing a kimono.

Quirk: Shadow Control ~ Nesuko’s Quirk gives her full control of the shadows around, allowing her to use it for travel, attack, defense, and concealment. Her Quirk, however, is limited to the fact that in brightly, well lite places make the use of her Quirk difficult. Her ability to change her Quirks’ focus at a moments notice, allowing her to change the ability of her Quirk she uses, made her a choice candidate for Hero work, but after the loss of her leg she quit that line of work and turned her attention to ballet instead. ~ Power - 3/5 ~ Speed - 6/5 S ~ Technique - 6/5 S ~ Intelligence - 4/5 ~ Cooperativeness - 5/5

Random Notes ~ Originally, Nezuko’s name was going to be Mia, but I had about five different OFC’s knocking about in my head and all their names started with M, so I had to change it . . . to N . . . because that’s original. Also, it should be noted that the accident that caused Nezuko to loose her leg, and therefore stop attending a Hero program, would have been something to do with the Hero program. There would probably be a pretty dramatic backstory behind it, something that has to do with life or death, but I’ve not focused on that too much.

~Bright Shadows~

~ Nezuko and her fiance Hadao arrive in Musutafu, where their wedding is meant to be held in only a few days. They both visit Midoriya’s mother and upon learning that her little cousin not only enrolled, but was accepted to U.A. High School, she becomes thrilled, if not a little confused - how could her Quirk-less cousin become a hero? This is great though! He’s getting to live out his dreams! - and she decided that she wants to see him before the wedding, to invite him personally.

~ Nezuko travels to U.A., hoping to catch Midoriya before he begins home, and instead runs into Hero’s Present Mic and Eraserhead outside the academy entrance. They are just about to interrogate her - as in who she is exactly, and what she’s doing there - when Midoriya comes out of nowhere. Holy SHIT when did that kid get so fucking FAST? In his excitement, Midoriya accidentally mangles the knee join in Nezuko’s prosthetic leg, sending them both crashing to the ground.

~ “Midoriya! You have GOT to be KIDDING ME!” “I’m sorry! I”m sorry! I’m so sorry, Koko.” “Great Buddha Midoriya, I can’t even WALK now!” “I”M SORRY. OH my GOD, I’m so SORRY!” “Stop trying to TOUCH IT!” “CRAZY OLD HAG, I’M JUST TRYING TO HELP!” I’m pretty sure you’ll know who is who.

~ It’s fine. Everyone knows that U.A. has Mia, and Mia can work on anything, and anything Mia works on, Mia fixes. And the fact that Nezuko has a pass card to enter the school . . . and knows Mia already . . . well, that’s fine. Totally, fine . . . right? It’s not until their already in the school, Midoriya and Bakugou helping Nezuko hobble along, that it suddenly dawns on the two hero’s in the group that the alarms never went off, and Nezuko seems familiar with the layout of the school already. As it turns out, she was a student, years ago, but after the accident which cost her her leg and her best friend, Nezuko transferred to a non-Hero academy. “I joined a ballet company only a few years after transferring. Turns out I’m really good at dance, I just never knew because I was so focused on becoming a Hero.”

~ The Hero’s are fascinated and silently decide to stay along with the students as Nezuko waits for Mia to fix the knee of her prosthetic leg, perched atop a work table, her left leg ending just a few inches above her knees. The scar is smooth, a simple X, nearly hidden beneath the ink tattooed into her skin in a rich red that matches the lace design etched into the ceramic leg. Everyone is fascinated by her appearance, what had happened to her, where she had danced and what she typically danced too, and Nezuko chats away easily, flashing smiles and laughing madly. She and Midoriya exchange private jokes often and it’s revealed that she’s Midoriya’s cousin, one who had moved away years ago. The wedding is mentioned and in Midoriya’s exited, he inadvertently invites not only himself - which Nezuko didn’t mind at all - but also his teachers and classmates as well - which only bothered Nezuko the tiiiiinest, not that she would tell him that, with him smiling so wide and just so damn excited about her upcoming marriage.

~ The morning of the wedding comes and with it comes a mass text sent by Nezuko to, as far as anyone can tell, every attendee of the wedding: The wedding has been canceled. Please don’t try to come to the temple. I’m sorry. Of course, the chat absolutely blows up but for the next 10 hours but Nezuko doesn’t make a single entry to the speculation, accusations, words of worry, and any of the other hundreds of messages people continued to send throughout the day.

~ That night Midoriya and the other students of class 1-A are sitting in the common room of their dormitory, speaking at length about their day of classes with Eraserhead and Present Mic, when suddenly Mineta starts screaming about ghosts, pointing at the wall behind everyone, and they turn to see someone materializing in the shadows. Everyone goes on the defensive, but a moment later Midoriya is screaming for everyone to calm down. The shadows condense and Nezuko steps out of the darkness, clad in her white wedding kimono, her hair and makeup done - although her makeup is more than a little smudged - and absolutely bawling. She’s absolutely plastered, and shes babbling about not being able to find her hotel and how she kept getting lost, and makes more than one awful joke about walking into the wrong place at the wrong time, until she begins to sob so hard she can no longer be understood.

~ Everyone looks at Midoriya, expecting him to know what to do, but he’s completely in shock. Growing up, she was the one who would go after Bakugou whenever he was bulling Midoriya. She was the one who could fall from a tree and jump up laughing. She never cried. Not when her cat died when she was in the eighth grade, or when her mother passed away two years later, or when she lost her leg and was forced from the Hero program. But now she looked . . . broken.

~ The most he can think to do is get her to one of the couches so shes not collapsed on the floor. Pretty soon everyone starts coming forward with small items they think will help her. Mineta brings her a bucket, saying that every time his Aunt drinks, she’s sick. Yuga not only mentions, but prepares warm tea, saying that it will help sooth her stomach. Uraraka and Asui appear from nowhere, small towels in hand. “Their cold . . . they’ll help.” Asui doesn’t explain further, but Midorya doesn’t think to ask questions.

~ And the question is finally asked: ”Nezuko . . . what happened?”

~ It doesn’t take long for the story to unfold once Nezuko begins talking. It’s like she’d been holding it in all day and she was finally allowing herself to admit to what had happened. She arrived to the temple at dawn, as she was supposed to do, and it wasn’t until she had already prepared and dressed for the wedding that she learned that Hadao had yet to arrive. When she called it went the first mail the first time . . . and then the second, and the third, and the fourth . . . He didn’t answer until she had called so many times she was certain it would take her weeks to clear the calls from her phone.

~ “He answers and acts like I - I can’t hear the woman talking in the background! Like she isn’t laughing, plain as day! And he doesn’t even act concerned when I bring up the fact he should have been at - at - at the temple over an hour before. He just said ‘Oh, that was today?’. He can’t stand me. He told me - he told me that the sight of me is disgusting. And that - that for the past year he’s - he’s - he’s been sleeping with my understudy!”

~ Everyone finds it difficult to understand Nesuko after this story unfolds, as she sobs uncontrollably, but one sentence stands out, as she begins to repeat it over and over again.

~ “What did I do wrong?”

~ The sound of her voice begins to rise, despite the fact she doesn’t appear to be yelling. Her emotions are beginning to carry so strongly that her Quirk is acting erratically. Shadows begin to draw in around her, then fade entirely, shrouding her in darkness before sending it spiraling away like smoke. Her skin begins to darken and Midoriya panics.

~ He had heard Nezuko’s mother and father speaking with his parents when they were much younger. He had been trying to sneak into the kitchen to snag a couple of cookies for the two of them, but something his Uncle had said stopped him in his tracks.

~ “It’s lucky that she didn’t kill herself, or anyone else for that matter. I’ve never seen anything like it. The fireworks started going of and her Quirk - it - it exploded. I don’t know how else to explain it. It exploded, Inko. Everyone near her was thrown back and it was like . . . it was like the shadows were trying to take her. Like she was going to disappear into them.”

~ Midoriya never did get the cookies that day.

~ In the end, it’s Eraserhead who steps in. He just walks up to her and sort of scoops her up before rocking her back and forth in his arms, almost like she was a baby, shushing her all the while. And it works. In minutes Nezuko is nearly silent, sniffling as she falls asleep in his arms. She needs to sleep this off, everyone knew, and no one questioned the Hero’s as they wandered away, a nearly unconscious Nezuko still held in Shouta’s arms.

~ The students wouldn’t realize this but Shouta and Hizashi help Nezuko strip from her wedding kimono, helping her shrug from layer after layer of heavy silk and lace. She’s completely blasted at this point, barely speaking, and she doesn’t seem to understand who the two Hero’s are, not that they would complain. Instead they allow her to cling to them, shushing her delicately, smoothing their hands across her back and sides as they speak lowly between themselves.

~ “She’s beautiful.” “Like a doll. Why would that idiot -” “Shhhh, you’ll upset her.” . . . “He’s an idiot.” “Yeah, he is. But we won’t let her go, will we, ‘Zashi?” “Of course not. How could we let our Darling go?”

~ They dress her in one of Hazhish's t-shirts, one that smelled heavily of the hero - even if it might have looked a bit to formal to be a sleeper - and a pair of Shouta’s boxers, and after stroking their hands across her soft - so soft - skin, they leave her in the nearest guest room to the commons, a glass of water and aspirin on the side table. Just as they shut the door behind them they say her sigh and roll over, her hands clenching at the air for a moment before she settled into a more peaceful kind of rest.

~ The next morning dawns bright and early, a low mist hanging along the ground, and Nezuko has no idea where she’s at when she wakes up in a too large bed, her wedding kimono gone and replaced by an extra large t-shirt that smells of bourbon and hairspray. She’s nearly on her way to a full blown panic attack, the memories of the previous day muddled by her drink, when she stumbles from the room and finds herself staring down a brightly lit hallway that leads to . . . a living room? Or maybe a kitchen? There was a thought tickling at the back of her memory, one she knew would explain her surroundings. It evaded her, however, and she walked forward rather than focus on the lost memory. The the large windows spanning the length of one window show U.A. looming in the background, and Nezuko breaths a sigh of relief. The dormitories. Of course.

~ A clock near the kitchen entryway shows that’s it’s early, much to early for the students to have already awoken and Nezuko decided to cook, something to keep her hands, and mind, busy. By the time the first of the students begin to awake the smell of food is wafting through the dorm halls. Nezuko is found by Hizashi - barely awake and almost 100% scruffy - and Shouta. She’s ‘borrowed’ one of the students music players, and she’s dancing around the kitchen to the beat of the song that plays through her headphones, eggs being whisked thoroughly before she moved to pour more into the pan before her. On the table sits a spread of steamed rice, tamagoyaki, sliced watermelon and cucumber, and toast topped with bacon, lettuce, and small cherry tomatoes on the side.

~ You better believed that Nezuko dropped the bowl, wasting what eggs she had left, when she turns and finds the two Hero’s standing behind the island counters, watching her move with wide, dazzled eyes. And her scream brings every single student of class 1-A running into the commons.

~ “It’s fine. It’s fine, Midorya. I just didn’t know anyone was awake yet.” “We weren’t even doing anything! We were just standing there!” “I know, I just didn’t know you where there.” “It’s not her fault you two old geezers decided to sneak up on her!” “Okay, no, calm down -” “There so much food . . .” “Holy crap, is all that for US?” “No, stop Bakugou - yeah, it’s for you - because their your teachers, that’s why you little jerk.”

~ While the students all begin to dig into the breakfast before them, Nezuko begins to muse out loud about what she would do next. There might have been more than a bit that she couldn’t remember - how exactly she’d gotten to bed was still a mystery - but she could remember the conversation with her ex quite vividly, and the one that followed - the one where she drunkenly called her ballet company, explained how Siesa, her understudy, was a dirty husband stealing whore . . . and then she’d quit.

~ The comments start as a joke, the kids telling Nezuko that her cooking is so good she could give Lunch Rush a run for his money. Midoriya feeds into the hype, claiming: “She learned how to cook when we where kids. She used to make all the deserts for every family get-together, and every time she brought something different. It was great.” Bakugou even goes so far as to admit that, “Her cheesecake is really good. Fluffy, and really creamy.”

~ Of course the other students beg Nezuko to bring them each a different dessert, and Nezuko jokingly agrees, but Mina mentions that there’s never anywhere for the students to eat on campus, but for Lunch Rush, and he’s only available during school hours . . .the knowledge stuck with Nezuko, knocking around in her head for weeks.

~ During these weeks she moves in with Midoriya’s mother and works at restarting her life after her failed wedding. She learns of a cafe/studio apartment located on the U.A. campus, a building that was abandoned due to a main waterline break and after only one visit she falls in love and immediately begins to work towards taking ownership. Only a month later she’s moved into the building, and gutted the water damaged first floor. Within two she’s rebuilt and standing outside the doors of the cafe - named The Garden - welcoming students in for the grand opening.

~ No one is really sure, but some time during these two months Nezuko cut her hair. No one seemed to notice for ages (Present Mic was the first to take note and he was horrified to see that her hair, which had hung well to her knees, had been lopped off so the tips brushed her shoulders) but once it was, Nezuko merely stated that, “It was too damn long.”

~ The Garden ends up being the main spot for students who don’t want to cook their breakfast or late-time snacks. Even the teachers come here sometimes, especially ones who live on campus with the students, as Dorm monitors and the Principle.

~ During the next few months Eraserhead and Present Mic become a nearly constant presents at the cafe. If one isn’t there after school hours then the other typically is, and more often than not, they arrive together, engaging Nezuko as she floats through the crowded store, handing out drinks and meals. They begin the transition into her life so smoothly Nezuko doesn’t even notice until it’s too late.

~ It happens out of the blue, Present Mics’ advance on Nezuko. One moment, they’re relaxing together in the cafe, sipping their favorite drinks and half-halfheartedly watching the news as a villain attack takes place across the town, both waiting for students to begin to arrive after their classes, and the next Present Mic has drawn Nezuko across his thighs onto his lap and his lips are on hers, and his hands are on her, and -

~ “Stop!”

~ Nezuko rejects him as gently as she can, she really does, but even as she explains that it’s too soon after her failed marriage, too soon after Hadao betraed her, how she doesn’t want to move into a relationship with anyone, there’s something . . . off, about Hizashi’s expression. For a moment he had appeared furious, damned that she would rejects him, but almost as quickly as it was there he smoothed the expression over and instead watched her with a cool sort of indifference.

~ “’Zashi what’s . . . what’s wrong?”

~ His answer is lost in the sound of sirens blaring, and the two realize that the school is under attack. Lights are cut off, although the sirens continue to wail, and in the distance Nezuko is sure she can hear explosions sounding.

~ Present Mic leaves saying that he has to check on the students - “Hide, and don’t come out for anyone, understand?” - but Nezuko knows that he was looking for Eraserhead. She had heard about the U.S.J. incident that had happened only a short time before, and she knew the Voice Quirk Hero worried after his friend. The two were close in a way that had caused her to ask Nemuri if the two were a couple. Nemuri had merely shrugged, stated that she, and every other member of the faculty, had been trying to figure that out for years.

~ Nearly an hour passes, and still the fight seems to go on until, finally, everything goes silent. Nezuko emerges from her hiding place, but a moment later a large hand covers her face, a rag smelling of something sickly and sweet enveloping her mouth and nose, and then everything goes black.

~ The next few days are a blur for Nezuko. She drugged more than once, sometimes with a something that puts her back to sleep, sometimes with something that makes her skin feel like its on fire and her body to twist and writhe with a strange sort of pain that wasn’t whole unpleasant, but made her want something more, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was that she wanted.

~ When Nezuko finally comes aware, she realizes that the shadows been seeing through the fog of drugs, the voices she’s been hearing - it’s Present Mic and Eraserhead, and for their part, their acting as if there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing strange about the fact Nezuko is in a strange place, without know how or why. And no matter how many times she tried to slur the words out, Nezuko felt as if they purposefully misheard her.

~ Present Mic convinces her that everything is fine. She’d been ‘kidnapped’ by ‘villains’ and they had ‘rescued’ her. None of this sets right with Nezuko . . . but why would they lie? They were her friends. But the unsettled feeling that bloomed in her stomach continued to unfurl as the day went on. They were no long on U.A. campus. Instead, they were in a large home, two stories, with a large wrap around porch, and windows that looked into the trees that seemed to surround the home on all sides. And the house is beautiful. A strange mix of exactly what Nezuko would have though Present Mic’s and Eraserhead’s homes would have looked like if they lived together: a subtle mix of loud and obnoxious, and a more subdued, simplistic combination that blended well with one another.

~ That day Nezuko glimpses the first taste of what her situation is truly like:

~ It starts so innocently - lunch had been ate, dishes washed and put away, and Nezuko was just beginning to feel comfortable when Present Mic began to insist on her using their first names. “It’s no problem, Darling. You just call me Hizashi, or ‘Zashi, and you can just call him Shouta. We’re friends, aren’t we?” The touches began after than, soft brushes of Shouta’s fingers across her shoulder as he reached above her to point out something, or Hizashi rubbing against her as he walked by to take her to a new room in house - and there was a lot - and once she could have sworn that Shouta was standing behind her, nuzzling into her hair, but when she had turned around he was nearly a foot back, and merely watch Hizashi talk animatedly about his extensive vinyl collection.

~ That evening things come to a head when she’s called to the bathroom to find that both Shouta and Hizashi are there, a steaming bath with rose petals waiting. “It’s time for your bath, darling.” . . . “What the fuck?” Nezuko is ready to attack within minutes. She had trusted them, believed them when they had said she as in danger but they . . . they were the danger. Delusional. They thought that she was theirs. Their girlfriend. Their darling. It was said so many times that Nezuko wondered if perhaps she had been kidnapped by villains, her memory modified is some manner . . . but she knew deep down that she wasn’t wrong when she looked them square in the eyes and said, “You’re crazy.”

~ The fight that would have ensued or, more specifically, Nezuko’s escape was thwarted nearly instantly by Shouta’s Quirk. And despite her high school years being spent training to be a Hero, the years spent as a ballet dancer that followed had done nothing to prepare her for a fight between two Pro-Hero’s. And Shouta had been prepared. A vial of medication designed to slow a persons Quirk to the point of being non-usable was waiting in one of his many pockets, and the moment and scarves had Nezuko immobile he moved in, deftly forcing her to drink the liquid by simply pinching her nose shut and not allowing her to take a breath until she did as he requested.

~ The medicine takes effect almost immediately and afterward Hizashi and Shouta have no issues undressing their Darling and easing her into the bathtub, Shouta’s fingers working soaps and conditioners through her hair lovingly while Hizashi uses a soft cloth to smooth a peach scented body wash across her skin. Neither Shouta nor Hizashi show any shame in their adoration of her body and the two allow their hands to stray often, fingers rubbing against her nipples, delicate caresses to the inside of her thigh and the sides of her neck, a single touch against her private area - it was enough to send Nezuko, in her drugged state, into a near hypnotized state, her breathing labored and her cheeks rosy. They take her panting whimpers and her hands pushing against theirs as signs that she is enjoying their administrations, and the begin to shower her with words of love.

~ “You’re such a beautiful Darling.” “We’ll never let you go.” “So lovely.” “He was a fool, baby. We’ll never abandon you like that.” “Beautiful girl.” “Sweet girl.” “Our girl.” “Ours.”

~ Nezuko has enough and when Shouta moves to stroke her cheek she moves her head and bites him, growling lowly. She may not be able to speak well, due to the drugs, but she’s able to get across her point with little problem. Shouta sighs, and says, “I was hoping that it wouldn’t come to this.”

~ And then he spanks her. He lifts her up, lays her so she’s bent over the side of the tub, her ass in the air, and he honest to god begins to spank her. He smacks her until her bottom is as red as an apple, and Nezuko has long since been reduced to a sobbing, blubbering mess. She hasn’t been spanked since she was a child and the experience is . . . startling.

~ Afterward Hizashi exits, saying that he’s going to be late for a shift at the radio station, and with a soft kiss to Nezuko’s forehead, he’s gone, leaving her with Shouta as he helps her from the tub, towels her dry, and dresses her in soft cotton shorts and a cotton tank top. Despite her mind knowing that it was Shouta who had just inflicted the pain upon her, the moment he laid down in the bed wit her, his hands rubbing against her back soothingly, Nezuko found herself sobbing once more, her face tucked against Shouta’s chest, shoulders shaking, until she finally collapsed into a restless sleep.

~ When Hizashi arrives home he finds Shouta still in bed with Nezuko, her head pillowed on one of his arms, her breaths short and even, and he can’t help but to climb into the bed with them, his phone at the ready. If anyone went through his phone in the next few days it would lead to a very awkward conversation since it would clearly show him laying next to Nezuko and Shouta, which wasn’t a problem in and of itself . . . except for the fact they may or may not have led everyone else to believe that villains had kidnapped her.

~ But that was a worry for another day.

~ Weeks pass and Nezuko falls into an uneasy routine with the two Hero’s. They make no moves to punish her again, so long as she doesn’t create that much of a fuss, and she doesn’t fight (although Eraserhead ensures that she’s fully aware of how easy it would be to track her if she escaped, as they placed a Quirk dampener around her next before she awoke her second day under their care, and how much trouble she would be in if she did escape) and Nezuko was more or less allowed to roam the house and do as she pleased. She was allowed outside, but only if one of the two Hero’s were with her, and as she tried to avoid them as much as possible, this happened very rarely.

~ The two Hero’s do, however, seek Nezuko out randomly, touching her, kissing her, showing their love for her, and despite the fact she shows no enthusiasm for these embraces, the two Hero’s don’t loose hope and merely refer to her attitude as “her little pout” which they were convinced would fade eventually.

~ Shouta and Hizashi are called away, and despite the fact neither want to leave Nezuko unattended, they agree that they have little choice in the matter. They spike her tea, hoping that she’ll sleep until they return, and once she’s fallen asleep they tuck her in and head out, Hero Gear already donned. But when their mission runs much longer than they expected and 6 hours turn into 16, they already know what to expect when they arrive home.

~ The window in the kitchen is smashed and there is a trail of a single bloody foot print that staggers from the window, across the back porch, and down the steps, towards the trees. It’s already dark outside and the two panic, fleeing into the woods to find their lost Darling, and it doesn’t take the two long to find her curled among the roots of a tree, shivering from the cold and the mist spraying from the river. She’d clearly lost her way and fallen, her arms and legs scrapped and bleeding, and the way her prosthetic leg was laid out in front of her, knee askew and ankle bent to a strange angle, they knew that she had damaged it badly.

~ Nezuko begins to panic, attempting to scrabble away, nearly hysterical, but Shouta and Hizashi are so reveled that she’s okay and they found her that they don’t even remember to punish her. Instead they scoop her up and begin to dote upon her, making sure that she’s alright, and the two take her back to their home, despite her protests of wanting to be let go.

~ Hizashi soothes her, smoothing back her hair and Shouta whispers softly into her ear. “You’ve had a rough time, darling. Let get you bathed, and a nice warm meal, and then you can take a nap. Hmm? How does that sound?”

~ It doesn’t matter what Nezuko says, their going home.

#mha #mha yandere #yandere #eraserhead #present mic #ofc #fan fiction #drabble #idea #erasermic #yandere erasermic x ofc #yandere thoughts

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shadowofmytime · 5 years ago

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>> some of my absolute favorites ! like and reblog if you save and enjoy ! happy reading and give some kudos to these amazing writers ! always feel free to send me some of your favorites ! ! <<

>> There is a bit so for your convenience they are in alphabetical order ! The ‘s’s are some of my all-time favorites ! ! <<

>> min yoongi x park jimin <<

All the seasons of your love - 5k+ [college au]

The movement in the library was still slow in the first week, so Yoongi could easily remember the few people who came by. That's why he pays so much attention to a certain dark-haired freshman who walks in on a Wednesday afternoon - or at least that's what he tells himself. He goes over to the front counter and asks Yoongi for directions to the Economy 101 session and, God, his voice is as sweet as his eye-smile.

Or how librarian Yoongi fell head over heels for cute freshman Park Jimin who, unfortunately, was very much straight - or so Yoongi thought.

Bon Voyage - 47.9+ [tourist! au]

Yoongi was meant to be taking the trip of a lifetime with his boyfriend. But now he's in Paris, alone and miserable. That is until he collides - quite literally - with one Park Jimin.

Boys who talk shit - 26k+ [college au]

When Yoongi enrolled in BTS (aka Boys who Talk Shit) Boarding School, he wasn't really expecting to be the only 'straight' (to be read sarcastically) guy in a room of seven geniuses (aka children aged five to ten, honestly). Plus four pet spiders. Yes, plural.

Chaotic episodes in A Place of Love and War, where Yoongi learns all about True Love via Park Jimin, Music and Marriage. Sort of. Brain bleach and earplugs are strongly recommended.

Conflicting arrangement - 162k+ [fake boyfriend au]

"Absolutely not," Yoongi deadpanned. "Namjoon-ah. I value you as a friend, and I think I'd even go as far as to say that you're my best friend, but absolutely fucking not."

"You owe me," Namjoon pleaded. "Come on, Yoongi, it's not a big deal."

"Your boyfriend's best friend's best friend needs a fake boyfriend to come out to his family this Chuseok, all the way in fucking Busan," Yoongi repeated drily without pause, making Namjoon wince. He flipped a page of his textbook, picking up his highlighter. "Not a big deal, Namjoon. Amazing."

Cotton Candy - 240k [high school rock band]

"He could get used to sitting next to Yoongi like this. To have him around. To have the band around. To smile and feel happy. To see Yoongi sitting in front of an instrument and having him play just for him.

'If this was my happy ending,' Jimin thinks, resisting the urge to lean his head on Yoongi's shoulder, 'if I wasn't who I am, I'd just let you have me whenever you want. You could have me anytime.'"

As spring turns into summer, school band Cotton Candy unexpectedly loses its singer and the members are forced to look for a new vocalist. Six boys find one in the form of the promiscuous pink-haired boy Park Jimin who makes a home in their hearts and finally finds a place he belongs

Daegu drift - 53k+ [motorcyclist / playboy au]

Jimin stops in Daegu for a big motor show and gets caught up with the locals. Specifically one Min Yoongi.

Sneak Peek:

Yoongi has his arms folded as he stares Jimin down.

“Are you going to join the rally, or not?”

Jimin takes his time answering because he likes the way Yoongi is looking at him. “Sure. I guess it could be fun. But you do realize none of you have a chance against a Bugatti, right?”

“It’s not the car that wins the race,” the other man says. “It’s the driver. You could have the fastest, best-equipped car in the goddamn universe, but if you’re a shit driver, it doesn’t make a difference.”

Goodbye from lonely - 65k+ [uncle yoongi!]

Park Jimin works two jobs that he loves and is going to college to get his teaching degree.

Min Yoongi is a personal assistant who hates his job and spits in his boss' coffee every day.

Kim Taehyung has been infatuated with his clueless co-worker for the better part of a year.

Jeon Jeongguk has a three-year-old daughter that he'd do anything for.

Somehow the tiny human brings them all together.

Tae is in love with Kookie -> Kookie's daughter takes Jimin's ballet class -> Yoongi is Kookie's stepbrother -> Jimin and Yoongi meet because of Kookie's daughter.

In your eyes (it’s where I wanna be) - 5.5k [coffee shop! au]

Jimin pauses with his marker inches away from the cup, because — is he really going to do this? Isn’t it a bit old-fashioned to write something flirty on a coffee cup? But no matter what his churning gut says about the danger and what the hell are you doing do you want to die, this guy is — with no better way to put it — totally Jimin’s Type with a capital T.

(Or: Jimin accidentally starts a nickname war with the cute blonde who likes his coffee way too bitter.)

Inked flowers - 6.4k [tattoo artist / florist au]

Something stopped him. A sound of a piano. He looked around and saw a light coming from the window on the other side of the street. On the third floor was an open window. A light and the sorrowful sound of a piano flew out of the room. Jimin looked closer and saw a figure or at least a top of someone's head.

The melody was so sad and sorrowful that Jimin wanted to cry. He started thinking, what could possibly go inside that person’s head? What were they thinking? Jimin just hoped that they weren’t sad and alone.

(let me see you) get high then low - 4k+ [photographer/model au]

"The light-haired model is the kind that fascinates Yoongi, and at the same time, he prefers to steer away from. He's all smiles and flowers, drawing you in with his cuteness until he's not anymore. Suddenly, he’s something else entirely; he's that false calm, the ocean that looks smooth on the surface but will drag you down to its depths if you dare to touch it."

Min Yoongi works in a photography studio with some (very questionable) friends that can't get any work properly done without making a bit of a fuss.

Park Jimin is a model handcuffed against his will and bored. Also a little bit horny, maybe.

Math Tutor - 11.7k [bad boy! yoongi]

Min Yoongi is the school's resident Bad Boy™. He's covered in tattoos, is pierced, curses like a sailor, smokes like crazy, doesn't give a shit about anything, possesses a hot temper that has people steering clear of him, and is desperately in love with Park Jimin, the adorable math nerd. When Jimin is tasked with tutoring Yoongi in math, who is in danger of failing the class and being held back a year, both boys are hesitant. Yoongi because he can't think straight around the boy with startling red hair, and Jimin because Yoongi is scary as hell and looks like he can easily kill someone. Gradually, though, the two grow closer, and Jimin finds that Yoongi is nothing like how he'd imagined.

Maybe I hate you can be our always - 35.9k [enemies to lovers]

When Yoongi thinks about it, really gives it genuine thought, it's possible that Park Jimin isn't the worst person in the world.

(Or, Yoongi and Jimin get off on the wrong foot.)

Ode to yoonmin - 4k+ [texting]

yoongi and jimin are in very much in love but they're the only ones who don't know it

chat fic with a bunch of bad jokes and memes ¯\_(ツ)_/

Out of my system - 101.6k+ [one night stand]

Yoongi likes one night stands and he understands how they work. What he doesn’t understand, however, is how he ended up in bed with a probably-not-legal kid crying in his arms about his broken heart, because he’s pretty sure (and correct him if he’s wrong) that a babysitting job was not what he was looking for when he went to the opening of his friend’s new club

Standing on the brink of 376 - 42.9k+ [street racing]

When Taehyung woke him up at three AM to go to a street race—an illegal one, no less—claiming it would help his social anxiety, Jimin never actually expected it to do much for him, except maybe make him cry hysterically. He found that he really wasn't too far off-kilter with that assumption, but it was only after he'd suffered through countless bouts of insecurity that he realized, hidden behind each stuttered breath, every inevitable tear, every spark of unavoidable fear, and even the customary cloud of cigarette smoke itself, lay a tremendous amount of affection for a certain platinum haired street racer that he can't even begin to justify. But when his opinion of fact, fate, and even life itself continues to blur with each push of the gas pedal, he thinks he just might be able to forgive himself for falling in love with a criminal, when the nonsensical moonshine of the present mutes the anxiety that had been a constant within his heart up until this November.

Strawberry lube - 82.7k+ [college au]

Yoongi remembers little to nothing of their crazy drunken night out. But of two things he's absolutely sure, one: he's not gay, two: he just slept with Park Jimin

The Paradiso Lounge - 192k+ [photographer/stripper au]

“Do I have to pay you for that service?”

This isn’t a dream (let me love you) - 26k+ [highschool au]

As captain of his high school’s basketball team, Min Yoongi dedicated all of his attention to his team and their games. His focus on the game never waned, not once for anything or anyone.

Well, until head cheerleader Park Jimin flashed his abs during a solo cheer and made him fuck up his shot

Trying to Behave (but you know we never learned how) - 329k+ [non-idol! au]

It's been years since Yoongi's last seen him and the younger boy is a shell of his former self in a way that makes his heart twist in his chest. And yet, after all this time and countless days of convincing himself to let him go, he's still unconditionally, head over heels in love with Park Jimin.

(Jimin and Yoongi grow up together.)

Valentino Summers - 657k+ [‘80s gangsters]

Whether or not Jimin was smuggling drugs really didn’t matter. He was hustling, and these days that was all there was to it.

Hustle and survive or struggle and die.

Y/N masterlist << check it out !! xoxo

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necropsittacus · 5 years ago

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for the ask thing, all the ones you have an interesting answer for

this is extremely long because I Love Oversharing so under a cut. thanks britta!!!

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?tea, black; i've tried putting extra spices in it but i think i'm not doing it right bc it gets grainy and weird? i don't drink coffee anymore for "hey maybe we should stop consuming this thing that makes us feel like we're actually about to die" reasons but when i did it was with a fuckton of cream5. are you self-conscious of your smile?yeah; less so since i actually brush my teeth semi routinely now, so they're less awful, but i still have a slight overbite and a residual habit of covering my mouth with my hand if i open it very much 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?either weird vent fanfiction that i never end up finishing, drawing in my notebooks, or i try to make the overly dramatic/pretentious thoughts that pop into my head into poetry (which i never end up finishing, go figure).9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?used to, but it's like. even besides insecurity about my voice and the fear that i'll be Too Loud and bother someone. the same internal barrier that makes it hard to speak out loud, especially if i'm not directly prompted to, applies to singing10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?usually side, and in the fetal position. occasionally back though13: what’s something that made you smile today?saw a chickadee!14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?god i don't know that's like. that's the fucking dream, for the future, but i hadn't gotten as far as daydreaming about *decoration* or anything of that sort. at the moment i tend towards covering things in movie posters and little trinkets i accumulate and toys and that sort of thing. i know i couldn't do sharing a room with someone else long term, it'd get stressy, so at least two bedrooms (or a bedroom and a pull out couch in the living room, that'd work), a little kitchen. no minimalism, but i might like having primary responsibility for Housecleaning sorts of things for my loved ones, or keeping things reasonably neat. just. something that feels like a proper home. safe. 16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?i am extremely boring and usually just do fettuccine alfredo. that said, cheese ravioli and pesto products are also very good. i just don't like super complicated foods with ingredients i don't recognize, or red sauce. red sauce is Sensory Bad. 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?i mean i've been dyeing mine black since i was like 17 to the point that people think that's the natural color and i just let them, and honestly i'm very happy with thatred looked good on me, and i definitely like the way a lot of those super bright unnatural purples, blues, etc look on other people but it doesn't feel like "yes this is Correct this is what i'm Supposed to Look Like, this is the color it was *supposed* to be all along" in the same way, it just feels like i'm dyeing it a weird color for fun18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up."mola mola isn't a slur, right?"20: what’s your favorite eye color?idk about "favorite" but dark brown eyes are really pretty22: are you a morning person?i tend to be more productive and (assuming at least like five or six hours of sleep) more cheerful in the morning, but getting out of bed is a horrible struggle bc executive dysfunction and anxiety23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?tbh i HATE having those days, i don't like being super busy Either but i get really like bored/restless/I Am Going to Rip My Skin Off to Have Something to Do Please Let Me Out of the House if i genuinely don't have anything scheduled for a day? so i usually *make* obligations for myself, writing projects or something like that, if i don't have anything externally enforced. and go to the library or a cafe or something bc i feel more alive if i don't stay in my room all day24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?yeah26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?i mean i've only had them for like a year bc it turns out that wearing the same pair of shoes almost every day wears through them pretty fast, who would have thought? but black combat boots28: sunrise or sunset?sunset31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.they hurt but i p much only wear boots so i have to wear them all the time. also my feet are weird and fucked up and i don’t especially like looking at them. and then i forget to take them off to sleep so i just. wear them all the time except to shower. i like weird socks with like animal pictures or whatever but then i feel bad abt wearing them bc i wear out socks really fast for unclear reasons34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?ooh i had a lot!! most of them were sea mammals, a couple sharks i think? i had a couple rabbits when i was Really small but i don't remember them as clearlyi can't remember most of their names but they had whole like imagined stories and relationships to each other and shit, i definitely remember there was one stuffed orca that was almost as big as kindergartener me35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?oh absolutely!! i write mostly in pencil for ease of corrections and so it doesn't bleed through the paper, but i accumulate pens/weird ink colors/etc37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?see i *prefer* having my room be clean but it literally never is 39: what color do you wear the most?black. combination of "trying to be low effort goth" and that idk how to coordinate colors so all my outfits are either all black or like. black + one other color + possibly grey, bc i figure there's no way that could end up clashing horribly. also i only HAVE black pants anyway so like. 41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?mm i know accident by christa wolf hit me pretty hard in some emotions, and that was recent44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?i'm not sure that's an emotion i have tbhwhen i'm happy there's this kind of anxious edge to it, not necessarily in a bad way, but "at peace" is. an odd concept for me. the closest i get is this sort of quiet not-exactly-negative melancholy if i'm not behind on anything and it's raining and everything's just sort of soft yknow? 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?marinara sauce. i hate that shit. i'll eat it on pizza or if i literally have to in order to get a meal and i can't physically handle not having one, but that's about it. also tomatoes more generally! i like ketchup but that's it. why do yall insist on putting tomatoes on everything all the time i Don't Like Them50: what’s an odd thing you collect?i keep all the toys i get out of kinder eggs and stuff like that. also i just have hyperempathy about inanimate objects and animals (and basically no empathy for humans most of the time, weirdly enough) and it's frequently difficult for me to throw things away because "well i'll be hurting it!" so uh. i just accumulate objects. i still have my old toothbrush somewhere55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?i straight up tried to kill myself to win an argument with mom once in high school. and i'm not talking like a mini fakeout attempt that wasn't supposed/expected to work, either, i did regret it but i was straight up prepared to die to get her to believe me 56: what are some things you find endearing in people?rambling/talking about your interests, emotional openness. if you like. send me things that reminded you of me/you thought i'd like, or initiate physical contact so i don't have to feel so weird/guilty about it, that's a very fast path to my affections. just being weird as shit. lots of little things, really. depends on the person a lot, though; either "person is Soft and Good and i feel like it's my responsibility to protect them" or "person is Kind of Scary/Edgy and i will attach myself to them and remain loyal no matter what and they appreciate it" are pretty consistent things, but those are a long way from the Only paths to my affection58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?awfully bold of you to assume i have a friend group and not just a disparate group of friends who mostly don't talk to each other. i AM semi consistently the weird vodka uncle though. 59: what’s your favorite myth?LOTS. that's not quite a fair question i can't pick one favoritethe volsunga saga does come to mind, though60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?i do!!! i thought i didn't because turns out the things they make you read in high school english are often Not Terribly Emotionally Resonant for me, funnily enough, but when i started reading russian poetry in college, and more mental illness focused stuff tbh, it was like Oh Shit This Is Really Cool. i really like vladimir mayakovsky!61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?when i was really small i gave my dad a care bears coloring book for his birthday because for some reason i didn't process that other people didn't have exactly the same interests as me??62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?i drink either unsweetened green tea or monster energy drinks in the morning. depends how much of a disaster i'm being on that particular day. 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?all my music is online or haphazardly downloaded to my phone so there's. not really any way to organize that if i wanted to tbh. i make a lot of character or ship playlists that i'd put more effort into organizing if i ever got around to showing them to other people, but Also anything that isn't too embarrassing to risk anyone else seeing just gets put in one folder. i DO organize my books, though. i usually *forget* to put them back where they're supposed to go, but there is a proper order (everything from one author or franchise together, stuff like star wars or tolkien is together and in in-universe chronological order, stuff like that), and i get upset if people fuck with it67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?nice. it's very calming, and also bright sunlight hurts my eyes fjgshtf68: what’s winter like where you live?not very different from fall most of the time. climate change is making it more midwest-y, which i'm not sure if i'm happy about or not (snow nice, but summer is also progressing in that direction, which is unfortunate). somewhere between the 30's and 50's (fahrenheit), mostly pretty grey, it rains sometimes. it's not cold enough that i need to have a real coat, usually sweater+leather jacket is enough. my hands always hurt, though70: have you ever used a ouija board?yeah i used to do it with my brother sometimes. nothing ever happened tho76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?i need to write my paper proposal for nuclear lit and also draw some stuff for people that i've been putting off because my brain hates me and Catching Up On Everything I Should Have Been Doing a While Ago Is Scary77: pink or yellow lemonade?both? both is good78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?i have no real feelings on minions one way or the other but i have no interest in them and don't like seeing them all the time79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?someone i used to know was going to move away from their abusers and get a job and such, partly or mostly For Me, so we could run away and start things over together after i graduated. and then things blew up but. it was very sweet and sometimes i get emotional about the concept of that still 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?three white, one blue. i didn't choose it, it came with the dorm room. my bedroom in my parents house has really dark blue walls, which i DID choose bc i wanted a dark color and my brother already had red ones and i wanted to distinguish myself from him. 82: are/were you good in school?mmm more or less, yes i'm terrible at certain kinds of projects and at getting stuff done without pretty much devastating my physical ability to function pushing myself at the last minute. that said, i'm very good at tests, good at papers, good at language learning and bullshit analysis. it's just like. PLEASE don't give me "fun creative projects!!!" or start with the "oh well tests aren't a good way of measuring learning, here's some other stuff that will be easier for you!" thing. i *like* tests. tests make sense and it's just sit down for an hour and you're done. it's the other stuff that's hard also i'm so used to my mother's ridiculous standards that it's like. yes i am good at school, in that my professors keep telling me i am Very Smart and things of that nature. but also i am terrible at taking care of myself while i have school because me being good at school is to some extent reliant on my brain's false insistence that Everybody Else Has Perfect Grades and Is Killing Themselves Slowly To Be The Best, so clearly we need to do that too! and any sacrifice is worth it! so eventually i just collapse84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?yeah definitely, at some point. there's other things that are more pressing to spend my limited amount of non-parent-controlled money on right now, but i know i want like. some manner of thing referencing my chronic turin turambar (self dx) status, probably his grave inscription or a sword (or both eventually!). probably also a bird of some sort85: do you read comics? what are your faves?see i'll happily read comics if there's a franchise i'm already interested in that has comics as part of it, but i'm not like a Comics Fan per se. i tend to find them kind of overwhelming because there's just So Much content and i don't know where to start and i usually get distracted before i finish. i did really enjoy mtmte and the tdc creation myths comics89: are you close to your parents?nope! i send my dad animal pictures, and vice versa, and that's about the extent of it when i'm not staying with them for breaks. mom's...Difficult(TM) and dad i get along with fine but i don't really know how to text him 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?drowns. i want to be able to actually taste it.93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?my hair is too short to really have Different Styles. i just keep it combed pretty neatly bc that's the only thing i know how to do afngjdsgf94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?my friend emma @autisticsansamaybe people i care less about had them more recently but tbh if we aren't friends i don't know when your birthday is without being told96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?i have literally never updated this laptop because it does not have space for an update. this isn't even my fault. i have deleted *every single thing on it that is not important to make it actually run* in order to have enough space to update, and it STILL doesn't. 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?a few months ago i would have said 5 years into the past, because i Desperately missed aspects of how my life was at that part of high school--mostly having people i loved and who loved me, who wanted a future with me, and the certainty of that, that i wouldn't just be On My Own Forever post educational system--but now? future. high school fucking *sucked* in a lot of ways, and also i was a terrible person and i don't especially want to go back to that version of me. future is like...scary because yeah there is a decent possibility i'll just be pretty much totally alone and having to work a job i hate to keep up, but like. there is also a possibility that i'll have the things i wanted all along in a more stable context, yknow?

#suicide ment /#alcohol ment /#ask memes #long post #very long post ajhnfgsf im so sorry

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thelastspeecher · 6 years ago

Text

A Case of Mistaken Identity - Chapter 2: Been Here Before

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 AO3

It has been over a year since I posted the first chapter of this. Now, technically, I wasn’t planning on turning it into a multichap, but there was enough of a response to it that I decided to. And here’s the second chapter! Sorry for the wait, but, hey, grad school. Whattaya gonna do?

I’ll just get to the point; y’all have waited long enough. Fiddleford H. McGucket is pretty much the star of this chapter, in which Ford explodes something and Dipper chews on multiple pens. Enjoy.

Faint singing drifted up through the attic floorboards, accompanied by tantalizing smells.

“I guess Old Man McGucket is really cooking breakfast like he said he would,” Mabel said. Dipper looked over at her.

“Are you gonna stay awake now?”

“Yeah,” Mabel confirmed. She slid off the air mattress Ford had found in the back of a closet. “I’m starting to think that no matter how many times I wake up, it won’t have all been a dream.” She walked over to Dipper sitting on the floor and sat next to him. “Did you find anything?”

“No.”

“So we’re stuck here.”

“Until we find a way to repair the tape measure, or get a hold of some other time travel…thing.” Dipper tapped his chin with an uncapped pen, unknowingly tracing out scribbles in blue ink. “Since the Author is here, we might be able to do the second option.”

“Ooh! Maybe there’s something written in the other journals!” Mabel said. Dipper pointed his pen at her.

“Exactly! If we find the first two journals, there’s bound to be something useful in there.”

“So do we ask to look at the journals or steal them?”

“If we ask, it’ll be suspicious. How would two random kids know about the journals? No, I think we have to put Grunkle Stan’s lessons to the test and ‘borrow’ them.”

“We’re gonna keep pretending we’re not from the future, then?” Mabel asked.

“We don’t want to disrupt the time stream.”

“Since when do we care about that?”

“Since-” Dipper looked away. “Look, I want to figure out what’s going on. I’ve been trying to find the Author all summer. If we spill the beans now, we might lose our only shot on finding out more about him. He’d probably send us back right away without telling us anything, because he’s the type who cares about the time stream.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s a scientific genius! He probably takes precautions and-” An explosion rattled the house. The singing from downstairs stopped, replaced by yelling.

“Stanford Pines, what was that?” Fiddleford shouted. There was a muffled reply. “You can’t do that in a house with children! It ain’t safe!” More muffled speech. “No, there is no ‘safe level’ of magical experimentation when children are around!” Mabel stood up.

“That’s our cue,” she said. Dipper stood as well. Mabel elbowed him playfully. “Get it? ‘Cause we’re acting? We’re pretending to be someone else?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“It’s not my best joke,” Mabel admitted. “It’s okay to wait for a good one. I don’t need pity laughs in my life.” She posed proudly. Dipper laughed and shoved her. Mabel shoved him back with a giggle. Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

“Dipper? Mabel?” a voice called. There was a knock on the door. “Are you up yet?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dipper replied. The door opened. Ford poked his head into the room.

“Good morning,” Ford said. Mabel beamed at him.

“Good morning, Grunkle Ford!” she chirped. Ford frowned.

“What did you just call me?”

“…Uncle Ford,” Mabel corrected.

“Ah, okay. My ears must still be ringing from Fiddleford scolding me,” Ford said.

“Or the explosion,” Dipper offered. After a moment, Ford nodded.

“That would do it as well.” He cleared his throat. “Anyways, if you two are hungry, Fiddleford made breakfast. I would take him up on the offer. He’s an excellent cook. Far better than I.”

“You got it,” Mabel said with a wink. Ford smiled at her.

“Perhaps over some pancakes, we can get to know each other better. I’d love to find out more about my newfound niece and nephew.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Mabel said cheerfully. She bounded out of the room. There was a crash. “I’m okay!”

-----

Fiddleford looked up from the skillet on the stove at the sound of footsteps. He beamed.

“Good mornin’, kiddos. Got some fresh hoecakes fer the two of ya.” Dipper and Mabel cocked their heads, confused. “Some folks call ‘em johnnycakes.”

“They’re essentially pancakes made of cornbread,” Ford clarified.

“Oh, okay,” Dipper said. “That sounds…interesting.”

“It’s a fam’ly recipe,” Fiddleford said proudly. “My younger siblin’s always used to lose their minds when Ma made hoecakes.” He wiped his hands on his apron. “Go ahead, take a seat. I’ve already set up a couple plates, so you can dig right on in.” Dipper, Mabel, and Ford each took a seat at the table.

“What was the explosion we heard earlier?” Dipper asked. Mabel nodded, her mouth already full of hoecake.

“Oh, nothing major,” Ford said airily. Fiddleford set a plate in front of Ford, then took a seat himself.

“‘Nothin’ major,’ he says,” Fiddleford muttered. “Remember the last time there was an incident what was ‘nothin’ major’?”

“Yes, but I regrew my eyebrows shortly and your skin stopped being purple after we realized the antidote was in the ink,” Ford said. Fiddleford rolled his eyes.

“How do the two of ya like the hoecakes?” he asked Dipper and Mabel.

“They’re great, Mr. McGucket,” Dipper said.

“Yeah, can you give me your recipe?” Mabel asked. Fiddleford beamed.

“Yer a cook, huh?”

“I’m pretty good in the kitchen, if I do say so myself,” Mabel said proudly. Ford and Fiddleford laughed.

“Actually, while we’re on the topic of these two charmin’ children,” Fiddleford said, turning to Ford. “When will yer brother be arrivin’ to, ah, claim ‘em?” Ford rubbed the back of his neck.

“Given I have yet to contact him, not today,” Ford mumbled. Fiddleford sighed. “Look, I tried to call Mom last night, but my father picked up.”

“Understandable,” Fiddleford said softly. He got up and began to clear the empty plates from the table. “But ya best get yer brother’s contact information from yer mom today. These kidlets deserve as much.”

“I know.” Ford poked at the few crumbs remaining on his plate before Fiddleford took it from him. “While you’re at the store today, I’ll call.” He grimaced. “It’s been long enough since I last called her that I’d prefer to do it without someone around to hear the yelling.”

“Do you want us to go outside when you make the call, or what?” Dipper asked. Ford looked at him, startled, like he’d momentarily forgotten Dipper was there.

“…Oh. Well, that’s an option.”

“No, it ain’t,” Fiddleford said firmly. He set the empty dishes in the sink and crossed his arms. “Who knows how long that phone call will be? The forest is dangerous fer two children. I’ll take ‘em with me to the mall.”

“Ooh, yes!” Mabel said, clapping her hands. “I love malls.” She grinned at Dipper. “Maybe I can pick up some more yarn.”

“What do you need yarn for?” Ford asked.

“Knitting.”

“Knitting?”

“Yep.” Mabel pulled her sweater away from her body, showing off the design on the front. “I made this myself!”

“Mabel makes all her sweaters,” Dipper added.

“Wow,” Ford said. He looked at Fiddleford. “I don’t know much about children, but-”

“No, yer right,” Fiddleford said. “It’s quite the accomplishment fer someone her age to make her own sweaters. Particularly when they’re as well-done as the one she’s wearin’.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty much knitting constantly,” Mabel said. “Any time you don’t see me, just assume I’m making a new sweater. After all, my motto is ABK. Always Be Knitting.” She grinned. Ford let out a small chuckle.

“You’re definitely Stanley’s daughter.” Ford looked at Dipper curiously. “You’ve been remarkably quiet. Do you participate in knitting?”

“Uh, no, I’m not good at it,” Dipper said.

“Then what are you good at?”

“Well, I get A’s in algebra and science.”

“An intellectual, eh?” Ford’s eyes twinkled. “I was the same way at your age.” Dipper’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve had a fondness for the fields of science and mathematics since I was very young. It’s what drove me to pursue a PhD, meet Fiddleford, and come here to research the anomalies of Gravity Falls.” He blinked at the stares from Dipper and Mabel. “Is something wrong?”

“I thought we were gonna have to drag your mysterious backstory out of you,” Mabel said.

“But you just sort of…told us. Without us asking,” Dipper added. Ford frowned.

“I don’t know if I’d consider my abridged biography to be a ‘mysterious backstory’,” he said slowly. After a moment, he shrugged. “Then again, I don’t know the terminology that youths use anymore.”

“I don’t know if ya ever knew ‘youth terminology’,” Fiddleford teased. Ford rolled his eyes. “Dipper, Mabel, why don’t ya get ready to go? We’ll head out to the mall fer some clothes and other items fer you two, in addition to the errands I was already goin’ to run.” Fiddleford eyed Dipper and Mabel. “See if ya can comb yer hair a bit ‘fore we head out.”

“On it!” Mabel said, jumping out of her chair. She and Dipper went upstairs. Fiddleford looked over at Ford.

“There’s somethin’ a bit odd ‘bout those two,” he said softly. Ford shook his head.

“I don’t think so. You’re probably just picking up on the oddities that tend to run in my family.” Fiddleford let out a heavy sigh.

“Maybe that’s all it is.”

-----

“So, that’s how I ended up here in Gravity Falls,” Fiddleford said, concluding his story as he pulled into a parking spot at the mall. “I’m further from my son ‘n wife ‘n the rest of my fam’ly than I’d prefer, but it could be worse. I’ve still got two siblin’s who work in California. That’s close enough.”

“Why didn’t Tate come with you to Gravity Falls?” Dipper asked from the backseat. He and Mabel had forced themselves to pay close attention to Fiddleford’s long-winded story, trying to find clues as to why he was a homeless local coot in 2012. It had been more difficult than they expected; Fiddleford kept rambling about his myriad of siblings, instead of his relationship with the Author. Fiddleford’s eyes flicked up to look in the rearview mirror.

“I don’t recall tellin’ ya my son’s name,” Fiddleford said softly.

“Gr- Uncle Ford did,” Mabel interjected. Fiddleford looked away.

“Hmm. Okay.” Fiddleford let out a small sigh. “I didn’t want to pull him out of school and come all the way up here, when his mom was goin’ to stay put fer her job. If’n this drags on much longer, I might ask my wife to bring Tate up, if only fer a visit. I miss the lil bugger.” An awkward silence fell. “Well, let’s get us some groceries, kiddos.” Fiddleford unlocked the doors of his pickup truck, and all three of them exited. “I want the two of ya to stick close to me, got it?” Fiddleford instructed as they headed towards the mall entrance. Dipper and Mabel nodded. “The same rules as apply fer pups apply fer kids in this sit’ation – keep a close eye on ‘em while they’re in a new place.”

“Did you just compare us to puppies?” Dipper asked. Fiddleford nodded.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Mabel said. Fiddleford chuckled. His suspicious demeanor from a few minutes earlier was gone.

“Yer quite the charmer. Not unlike yer uncle.”

“You think Uncle Ford is a charmer?” Dipper asked. Fiddleford shrugged.

“He has his moments.” They walked through the doors of the mall. It was eerily similar to how it would be in 2012. The same muzak played over the intercom, the same decorative plants wilted by the same fountains, and even most of the stores seemed to be the same. The only major difference was the style of clothing worn by the mall patrons.

“Where are we headed to first?” Mabel asked. “The stuffed animal place? The only good clothes store? Ooh, the food court?”

“None of the above, darlin’,” Fiddleford replied.

“Aw.”

“Well…” Fiddleford dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and squinted at it. “We can hit the food court after we’ve finished the other tasks. We need to pick up some toiletries fer you two, and I need to get some more nuts ‘n bolts from the hardware store.”

“Save the hardware store for last, then,” Dipper suggested. “It’s right next to the food court.”

“No, it ain’t,” Fiddleford said. He pointed to a nearby storefront. “That’s the hardware store, right there.”

“…Oh.” Dipper rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly. “Guess- guess I missed that.”

“Yeah, ya did.” Fiddleford ruffled Dipper’s hair in a genial manner. “It’s okay, kidlet. Everyone misses things. Anyways, since it’s right here, I’m goin’ to pop in and get what I need. And I know most children yer age won’t be excited ‘bout screwdrivers, so as long as ya stay near the door, ya don’t have to come in.” Mabel made a thumbs up. Dipper nodded.

Dipper and Mabel hovered around the entrance of the hardware store while Fiddleford browsed the various screws and tools.

“We need to get it together,” Dipper said. “We’re going to blow our cover in an hour at this rate.”

“Yeah, is it really that important for us to try to keep it a secret who we really are?” Mabel asked. She idly scuffed the toe of her shoe against the floor. “I mean, these guys seem a bit like goofballs. Not hardcore science nerds like you thought. Maybe they wouldn’t care about us messing up the timeline.”

“Great-Uncle Ford definitely didn’t care about blowing something up this morning,” Dipper mumbled. He took a pen out from a pocket in his shorts and began to chew on it. “You might have a point.”

“Whew, all done!” Fiddleford chirped, joining them. He frowned at Dipper. “Dipper, don’t do that. You’ll get ink poisoning.”

“Sorry,” Dipper said, stuffing the pen back into his pocket.

“Actually, I got somethin’ to ask,” Fiddleford said. He shifted his bag of newly purchased items from one hand to the other. “Are ya psychic?”

“Huh?”

“If ya are, you can tell me. I won’t tell a soul.”

“No, I-” Dipper stammered. “Wh- why are you asking?”

“I just spoke to Frank, the owner of the hardware store. He said there ‘re some talks ‘bout movin’ the store near the food court.” Fiddleford grinned, but it seemed forced. “So, are ya psychic?”

“No, I just- the food court seems like a good place for a hardware store,” Dipper said. Fiddleford’s forced grin was wiped away. He nodded.

“Mm-hmm. Sure. Sure,” he said noncommittally. Mabel cleared her throat.

“Where are we going next, Mr. McGucket?”

“To get you and yer brother some shampoo and whatnot,” Fiddleford said, abruptly changing gears. He set off. “Come on, kidlets. Keep up.”

-----

Dipper chewed on a brand-new pen that Fiddleford had purchased for him at the mall.

“I can’t shake the feeling we’re missing something,” he said quietly to Mabel. They had gotten back to the building that would become the Mystery Shack about half an hour ago. Fiddleford had rushed off to help Ford with something, and so Dipper and Mabel were sitting in the living room, unsupervised. Mabel scoffed.

“Doy, Dipper.” She set aside her knitting. “We’re missing a lot! We’re, what, fifty years in the past? The person who says he’s our Grunkle Stan isn’t really our Grunkle Stan, he’s the Author, the weird old guy who lives in the dump makes even better breakfast than Mom does, and Mr. McGucket is gonna figure out who we are in like, two seconds if we don’t memory wipe him or something!”

“I know, I just-” Dipper huffed impatiently. “I feel like there’s something else.”

“What?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Dipper muttered. Someone cleared their throat. Dipper and Mabel turned around. It was Fiddleford.

“Dipper, Mabel, please join me in the kitchen. I’d like to talk to the two of ya,” he said in a short, but still polite, tone. Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look before getting up and following him into the kitchen. Fiddleford gestured at the table. “Please, take a seat.” Dipper and Mabel did as they were told. Fiddleford hovered uncertainly by a chair, then sighed softly and sat down as well.

“…Are we in trouble?” Dipper asked. Fiddleford let out another small sigh.

“That depends.” He steepled his fingers. “Look. Ford is a genius. I won’t deny that. But in some sit’ations, he can still be an idiot. Sit’ations such as this.” Fiddleford pursed his lips. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m from a big fam’ly. I have younger siblin’s and a million cousins and a bunch of nieces and nephews of my own. I know how children act when they’re bein’ deceitful. I can tell when they lie.” Dipper swallowed nervously. “Or maybe Ford’s just bein’ willfully ignorant. He’s excited ‘bout havin’ a newfound niece and nephew. I’ve never seen him so happy ‘bout spendin’ time with fam’ly.

“But,” Fiddleford said. He paused to rub his face. “It don’t really matter which one is goin’ on here. What matters is that I can tell the two of ya are lyin’.” Mabel opened her mouth. “Fine, ya might not be completely lyin’. But yer not bein’ completely truthful, neither. So I just have one question fer the two of ya.” Fiddleford met their eyes with a steady gaze. “Who are you, really?”

#Gravity Falls #Dipper Pines #Mabel Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Gravity Falls AU #it feels SO GOOD to update a multichap lemme tell ya #fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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sleepyfan-blog · 6 years ago

Note

Jajshhahahah okay so- could you possibly write the bad idea we discussed with Venus getting injured in combat? ||wo

warnings: Blood, violence, cursing, minor character death

word count: 3,429

Saturn is Cap’s dreammare kid. And Venus is Izzy’s.

Summary: Venus gets injured in combat

“Dad, please? I am a capable and deadly fighter! I haven’t hesitated when taking the necessary kill since my fifth one, which was many years ago! I was the one who gathered all of the data on the AU it’s at the others are about to invade. I know the Royal Guards tactics best, I figured out which psychological buttons to push in order to make the head of the Guard go into a mindless rage so that she can’t think tactically… And it’s not as if I want to solo this AU, I just want to help the others conquer this timeline for you… Dad, please?” Venus begged, a stubbornly determined expression on their face. They weren’t going to be left behind this time when it came down to the real fighting. “And you even said that you probably weren’t going to even fight in this neutral timeline due to the human slaughtering half of the monsters in the underground years ago in that timeline and most of the rest with a significant loss of Hope, which means that their magic will be weakened and their HP lower than standard…”

Nightmare sighed a little bit at that, trying to determine what was the best option. Venus had been pushing for this after they had sparred and beaten each of his lieutenants individually in practice matches that both opponents had been taking seriously. But he… Really didn’t want to risk his child’s life like that, grown adult though they were. But all the evidence pointed to a relatively easy capture Don’t underestimate your opponents. Fear and desperation can be a source of strength as well as a distraction. I want you to be with at least two of my lieutenants at all times during the entire time you are there, including during any lulls in fighting or after the initial surrender as it could be a trap, as it has been in the past. Do you understand this, Venus?”

Venus huffed a little bit and folded their arms across their chest, a mutinous expression appearing on their face… BUt they could sense their father’s worry and concern over their wellbeing and with a sigh, relented.. The only times that they had fought against other beings, they had been at Nightmare’s side the entire time, so this was actually showing more trust and faith in their abilities. “I promise to abide by the rules you give me, dad. I’ll be with at least two of the others the whole time I’m gone…” They moved closer to their dad and hugged him tightly for a moment, grateful for the chance to prove themself.

“Thank you, Venus. I know that you are strong, but I just… I can’t… I can’t lose you, my precious little one.” Nightmare murmured softly, hugging them back just as tightly, tucking them under his chin and humming softly, reminded of times long past when he’d held both Venus and Saturn close with Dream shivering and hiding behind him, or desperately clinging to the three of them, trying to whisper reassurances. None of the three of them were the least bit fond of storms - and particularly thunder and lightning.

“You won’t, Dad.” Venus promised, hugging their dad back more, their words a little bit muffled by the fact that they were kind of hiding their face into his chest. It was nice to be held like this. But it wasn’t professional and they knew that The Bad Sanses as they were apparently called would be coming to the throne room soon to get the debrief about the mission that the five of them were about to go on. They were pretty sure that either Hatchet or Killer were going to be the ones leading the team - which suited them just fine - they didn’t have experience leading a group of people on a strike mission after all.

“I hope so.” Nightmare whispered, pressing a paternal kiss to the top of their skull, only letting them go as soon as they both sensed the approach of the rest of the team.

All three of Venus’s odd pseudo uncles as well as their honorary big brother had taken their safety very seriously throughout the mission so far. It was a bit frustrating to have been stuck in the dead center of the group - with Cross (who was the fastest of the five of them) on their right, and all of them having summoned blasters at the ready to shoot anything foolish enough to get within twenty feet of them… But they had been able to actually fight, rather than just sneak around and get information on an AU that their dad wanted to take over, which was an exciting change of pace. They used their negative powers to weaken the resolve of the monsters the group faced, which probably helped to shorten the battles.

What was left of the royal guard had crumbled and broken before the five of them, and Venus sent a small smile Cross’s way, knowing that all they had to do was to get to the castle and find the cowering and snivelling monarch to beg for their life, and the will of their people would be broken.

But as they marched towards the castle, all hell broke loose. The Sans of the AU - who hadn’t been seen up until now - teleported in out of nowhere, three alternate Sanses at his side - A Swapfell, a FellSwap (or was that the other way around? Venus couldn’t quite keep the two verses straight in their mind) and a Horrorfell. Their Papyri flying in from behind the group. A soft gasp left their lips - nothing that shown that this Sans had contact with the wider multiverse. Shit.

Cross was the first to respond, summoning dozens of DT blades and flinging them at the airborne Papyri - causing the four of them to scatter and break ranks “Fuck. This just got harder. Stay sharp, Ven.” He muttered quietly, shaking them out of their shock.

Killer cackled wildly, brandishing his knives and charging the nearest Sans, summoning a field of bones and launching them - white and blue - at the Sanses.

Dust was right behind Killer, blasters whining and shooting out towards the trio of Sanses in the same moment, a feral glee in his emotional aura - even as one of the other Sanses countered his blaster attack with blasters of their own.

Hatchet was using bones and blasters to try to help keep the Papyri from regrouping, a concentrated frown on his face as he started to attack.

Venus noticed that both Cross and Hatchet seemed to be having a bit of difficulty actually hitting the Papyri - perhaps because they so closely resembled their beloved siblings (dead brother, in the case of poor Cross, who had lost so much to Ink’s machinations. Not that Papa knew that). They flew towards the Papyri, asking “ why do you come to defend the world that is not your own? To do so risks interference from people who are much more powerful than you can fathom. Surrender and leave this place and perhaps nightmare will spare your world.” they imbued their words with the power of their magic, causing the swapfell and fellswap Papyri to stumble for a moment and stop.

The Horrorfell Papyrus on the other hand, snarled lowly and hissed “Let your lord and master come to my world. It’s not as if he can make things worse than they already are.”

“You have no idea what nightmare is capable of. Not truly.” Venus responded coolly. Their eye lights shine brightly with cyan magic as they summon a bow (it looks strikingly similar to Dream’s, except for the fact that the wood is of a darker color and the runes that have been carved on it are of a cyan hue - specifically a shade strikingly similar to Nightmare’s own magic). They create a magical arrow and began shooting at the Papyri, moving out of the way of the bones that were hurled in their direction - no matter if they were thrown at them from the Papyri in front of them, or the Sanses behind them. The arrows strike true, and hit the Horrorfell Papyrus directly through the soul “Have a taste of what Negativity is truly like.” They hiss as the Papyrus howls in agony, collapsing in on himself and breaking down into sobbing hysterics.

Monsters struck by their arrows would relive some of their worst memories - and Venus kept up a volley of arrow at the remaining Papyri - the three of them cursing and desperately tumbling and stumbling out of the way of their arrows, so frantic and afraid of their magic that they were caught by Cross’s and Hatchet’s Blasters, screams of pain leaving them briefly as they crumbled into dust.

“NO! PAPYRUS!” Their Sanses screamed in unison, fury and heartbreak in their emotional auras. They attacked with a renewed vigor.

Venus swerved to avoid the blasters and bones in the air - nearly getting hit with a blue bone attack which would have grounded them. The Sanses’ teleportation abilities were incredibly annoying to deal with - as they were much more adept at avoiding their arrows.

However, the defensive Sanses were slowly losing ground and stamina - a fact that they seemed to be grimly aware of. The Horrorfell Sans called out on his turn, panting heavily “Why don’t… We just… Take a little break, eh? That way we can all…Rest up and… Continue fighting…”

“Surrender or die.” Killer giggled, the wide smirk on his face broadening still further, twirling his knives in his hands “I can do this for days without needing a break.”

Venus took aim at the exhausted and trembling Sans, certain that they could hit him this time, when a sudden and intense pain ripped through their body, shattering their concentration as they fell to the ground, screaming in agony… Their wings were caught on something, and they realized that two very long bones had pierced through them, causing the emotive spirit to bleed magic “A-Ahhh!” The attack had come from behind, but who…? “A-Aaaah!” Their magic pulsed around them at the intensity of the pain they were in.

The Horrorfell Papyrus hissed “I… Will not… Let you kill… My brother! Pretty little birdie… You will make a tasty stew for us… Yes… Yes you will.” He staggered towards them “I wonder… What shape is your soul, little bird? So… So strange you are…”

Cross and Hatchet cursed, teleporting between Venus and the Papyrus, a second too slow as the Horrorfell native managed to wrap his magic around their soul, forcing their body to jerk upwards, further damaging their wings, as their black-apple soul became clearly visible. “No, no no no no!” Cross swore, launching dozens of daggers and bones at the Papyrus “Let them go, you twisted fucker!”

“What… The fuck… Are you?” The defending Sanses swore, having never seen a being with such a soul before. One of them launched a bone straight for Venus’ soul.

Their eye lights shrunk to pinpricks and they thrashed uselessly in the magical grip of the Papyrus, unable to work up the concentration to summon their bow again to try to shoot away the attack. A terrified scream of “D-Dad, H-Help! Please!” was wrenched from their throat, their eye lights going out, praying to anything that might listen that they survived a direct attack to their soul.

But the blow never came. Venus tentatively summoned their eye lights, realizing that the negativity in the area had risen dramatically. Their dad was now holding them protectively in a couple of his tentacles, the rest lashing out at the Papyrus who was holding their soul hostage, snapping the skeleton in half and shredding his soul so that he no longer had a hold on Venus’ soul. The other had also blocked the attack to their soul by the Sans.

NIghtmare was livid “You dare harm my precious child… I will make your lives a miserable, living hell and you will beg for death long before I grant you that mercy.” The other’s tentacles lashed out and slammed into the four Sanses, curling around them tightly enough to cause them pain and to threaten to chip away the few HP that each of them had “I will find your pathetic worlds, and I will -”

Venus coughed a little, their wings hurting very badly, and they could feel themselves hemorrhaging the magical blood that flowed through them “Dad… I need… I need help… Ngh…” They were trembling and trying so desperately not to cry in the pain, and in relief that their dad had come to save them. Of course he did.

That snapped Nightmare out of his pitch black fury, worry and fear running through him as he Checked them, and he cursed lowly “Eat as much as you can, but I will need to find a healer for your wings… Stay awake at all costs, do you understand me, Venus?”

“Y-Yes dad… Ngh.. The darkness is so nice though… “ Venus mumbled. They knew that they wouldn’t be in any pain if they fell asleep - but the fear and worry in their dad’s face kept them awake. “I hurt so much, dada…” They hadn’t called him that since they were really little, but somehow, they weren’t embarrased.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, as their dad was even more terrified and upset than before. The mortals in Nightmare’s grasp dusted and he very gently set them in Cross’s protective grip “Feed them as much food as is in the castle. I will procure a healer who can fix the damage in full.” The lord of darkness opened a portal that led directly home.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” Cross whispered, guilt and pain in his aura and voice as he teleported through the portal, grateful that Nightmare had opened it directly into the kitchen. Dust, Killer and Hatchet were directly behind him, shoving the food that they had in their inventories down Venus’s throat “I should have made sure that that HF Papyrus was actually dead… I didn’t see the fucker in the snow…”

“I didn’t realize he wasn’t fully dead, either, Cross.” Hatchet rumbled as he rushed over to the fridge, pulling out everything that was pre-made, shoving them into Dust and Killer’s impatient hands as they kept a steady stream of food coming to their badly injured kid. They loved Venus fiercely, and to have seen them strung up by their wings like that….

Those idiots’ deaths had been far too quick. But Venus’ life was more important than revenge.

“Let’s move Ven to their room. We’re out of food and they’ve stopped losing HP… Stars fuckin’ damn I wish that one of us had the ability to heal.” Killer cursed softly. The others nodded and they teleported Venus to their room, carefully laying them down so that none of their weight would be on their damaged wings.

There was only one being with the capability to heal who Nightmare would trust near one of his injured children, and he desperately needed to find the other before it was too late. Using their soul-bond, he tracked the other to an Outerswap. It was an irritatingly positive place, but his mate’s presence shone like a being amongst the never ending sea of mortal idiots. He instantly teleported over to where Dream was, using his magic to temporarily paralyze everyone else in the room in Fear and Despair that he had found them (some of Dream’s mortal allies were in the room - as was the soulless fuckface). “Come with me, now.” He pleaded, trembling as he reached out for Dream.

His mate took a couple of steps back, his eye lights wide with suspicion and surprise - but the other hadn’t instantly summoned his bow. A worried frown appeared on his face “Nightmare, wh-what-”

Right. Dream didn’t know yet “Venus is injured. Please. They… They were hemorrhaging so much magic and I… I can’t heal them…”

All suspicion and wariness vanished within his mate’s emotional aura “Where are they?” He snapped, teleporting over to the negative guardian and sending a pulse of love-affection-worry through the hand that had the other had touched him with.

“Home. I-I sent them home. They wanted to fight. Begged me too. I-I shouldn’t have let them, b-but…” Nightmare stuttered, feeling so weak and useless. An awful failure. How could he have given in.

“Shh… Our eldest is incredibly stubborn. Sat is at PP US 99814. I’ll go home to heal Ven.” Dream soothed, cutting him off before he could potentially self-destruct. With that the other opened a portal home and teleported through it. It closed before any of the mortals could think of unfreezing.

Nightmare was long gone before any of the mortals (or the soulless asshole) could move under their own power again. The lord of Negativity found his son and scooped him up, pulling him in close, murmuring that the other was “Safe now, my little starlight… It’s time to come home now…”

“I… D-Dad… H-how did you find me?” Saturn stuttered, his eye lights terrified and confused pinpricks.

“Your papa told me where to find you… We… W-We have to go home now. All of us. Venus is badly hurt.” Nightmare explained quietly, absently noted that he was still partially covered in the dust of the Sanses he had killed earlier, which would likely further distress his rather shy and sensitive younger child.

“V-Venus is… Is h-hurt? P-please take me h-home dad. I-I want to see them!” Saturn begged, tears streaming down his face as he hugged his dad back tightly, terrified and confused, though for different reasons now.

Dream was a barely-visible streak of gold and blue as he ran through the castle, teleporting directly to where he could sense the being of negativity as soon as his senses worked. He instantly summoned a bubble shield, forcing the mortals who had surrounded his precious older child away from them as he started to heal them, his hands a vibrant green color. Their voices an indignant, confused chorus that he ignored entire.

When their confused cries registered in his mind, Dream hissed at them “Of course I am helping my older child you blithering idiots. I am justifiably furious at Nightmare for what he’s done, but I’d never sacrifice either of our children in our fighting, and I know that he wouldn’t either. Why do you think he came to get me?”

“IF that’s true, then where the fuck is Nightmare?!” The monochromatic mortal growled, their heterochromatic eye lights flashing impudently at him.

“He went to get Saturn, our younger child. Sat will want to stay with their sibling as they recover from the mana loss.” Dream snapped. It was perfectly obvious to him “They’re coming this way, if you don’t believe me. They’re back in this timeline. Now shut up and stop trying to break through my shield so that I can focus on healing Venus.” It was so nice for them all to go blissfully silent. Venus had lost so much blood…

But their wounds closed, and Dream gave them as much energy as they were able to handle. He sat down on the bed and held his older child close to his chest, murmuring softly “You’re going to be okay… Papa’s here and Dad’s on his way with Sat…”

“P-Papa?” Venus asked quietly, their eye lights fuzzy “I… I hear your voice… H-how did you? How did you know I was hurt?”

“Your dad came and got me, sweetie. As soon as I heard you were hurt I came to help you. I’ll always come to help you, my little dove. No matter what you become. Your papa loves you so, so much.” Dream soothed, rocking Venus back and forth gently.

Venus cried quietly and clung as tightly as they could to their papa. Dad and Sat appeared seconds later. Saturn crawled onto the bed after he was put down by Dad, snuggling into Venus’s lap and crying (he was always felt so deeply, and was easily distressed when they got hurt). Dad’s tentacles wrapped around the three of them, and he held them all close and tightly. “Papa… Papa can I sleep now? I’m so tired…”

“I… Yes. You won’t… You’ll still be here when you wake up, now. You’ll need to eat a lot of food, okay?” Papa responded, his voice quivering a little, but full of love and care.

Venus nodded, mumbling an agreement as they drifted off to sleep.

#my writing #tw violence #tw blood #tw death #tw cursing #venus #saturn #nightmare #dream #horrortale!sans #killer!sans #Cross!sans #Dust!Sans #dreammare

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radiojamming · 6 years ago

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u should write a fic where the deputy is joseph's kid

SHE’S BACK AND SHE’S PISSED

(also this is probs just variations on a theme since i know a lot of people have done this before. this is just my take plus some background headcanons, so hopefully it’s entertaining at least!)

- - -

Ana feels like she’s about to make a huge embarrassment of herself in front of the marshal. She feels like she’s going to throw up all over his lap, and with the way he’s looking at her, she might look like that’s exactly what she’s about to do. Her stomach is rolling with nerves, and she’s probably annoying him by drumming her fingers on her knees and bouncing her feet to try to ground some of that nervous energy. Fortunately, the marshal doesn’t say anything, although Pratt peers over his shoulder and gives her a good-natured, “Christ, would you settle down?”

No, she really can’t. But she does manage to hold still long enough for the marshal to look away from her in disinterest.

She only half-listens to Whitehorse and the marshal’s conversation, because she already knows what’s at stake. If anything, she probably knows more than anyone else in the helicopter, let alone the sheriff’s department. The kicker is that no one knows that she knows, and she’d like to keep it that way for at least another half hour or so.

They slowly pass by the statue of the Father, and there’s a strange twist in Ana’s gut at seeing it practically glowing under the moonlight. They turn a sort of half circle around it, and for one poetic moment, she feels like his eyes are on her. One of his hands is outstretched, pointing upward, beckoning. Ana stares at it as long as she’s able, until he slips out of her periphery and back into the darkness.

There’s a stilted silence that follows the statue’s appearance, as though no one in the helicopter is quite sure of what to say. Ana looks at the arrest warrant in the marshal’s hands, as incriminating as plain black ink on white paper can be. Joseph’s name is printed in prominent even print, crowned with the seal of the Department of Justice. For a long while, his name is all Ana can look at, and an entire conversation with dispatch passes by, completely unheard, until Pratt speaks up again, saying something about bringing Nancy along rather than her.

It’s a joke. She knows it is. But Ana can’t help the way her head snaps up, leveling a glare with Pratt that he meets with wide, surprised eyes. There’s a strain at the corners of his mouth, and he quickly turns his head away.

Good, because there’s no way they could have left her behind. She’s worked too damn hard to be in this exact helicopter on this exact day.

Then, the cult’s compound comes into view as flickers of firelight and a church that’s bone-white in the silvery light of the moon. When Whitehorse gives the order to bring the helicopter down, Ana knows then more than ever that nothing in her life is going to be the same.

She’s at peace with that.

- - -

Anastasia Rook carries two photographs in her wallet at all times.

The first one is of Ana and her mom sitting on the edge of a fountain at Disney World. Her mom is exaggeratedly leaning across Ana’s lap in a swoon while Ana is caught in a laugh. Disney World was Ana’s senior trip in high school, and probably one of the happiest memories she has.

The second one is of two people that Ana has never met; at least, has never remembered meeting. It’s a man and a woman at some kind of party, maybe a wedding judging by their clothes. The woman is in a black cocktail dress with a small string of pearls around her neck. Her dark hair has that sort of mid-90s fluff to it, as does her fire engine-red lipstick. She has this great snarky grin in the picture, holding up a pair of black high heels by the straps on one finger. Beside her is a young man with his arm around the woman’s waist. Like Ana in the Disney World picture, whoever took the photo caught him halfway through a laugh. His eyes are squeezed closed behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. He’s wearing a suit with his black tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck.

Ana doesn’t know these people, but at the same time she does. She knows that the man and woman are her biological parents; Mother and Father in a way that the people who adopted her are mom and dad. The photograph is all that’s left of the two of them, having last been carried in her mother’s wallet on the day that she died.

She knows her mother died in a hospital in South Carolina after a car accident, because Ana also has a copy of her mother’s death certificate now tucked away in a manila folder back at Ana’s apartment. And she knows that her father never came back for her. Or if he did, he didn’t stay.

He didn’t take her home.

All that’s left of him other than a photograph is a name written in blurred typewriter font on her birth certificate. Joseph Seed, who went on to be a preacher in Georgia, who was involved in a possible kidnapping outside of Savannah, who started a new religious movement that made headlines for good reasons until suddenly they didn’t–

Who now is the Father of the Project at Eden’s Gate.

That’s who Ana’s father is, and she’s spent the last decade or so of her life trying to find him, to match the man in her photograph to the man sentenced to be arrested.

- - -

All the marshal has to say is, “Joseph Seed, you’re under arrest,” and Ana feels like her entire world has been shifted on an angle. She feels like the creaking floorboards under her feet are liable to fall out from under her at any second. It feels like a dream, facing her family that isn’t her family, because her true family is probably sleeping safe in their beds half a country away, blissfully unaware of what’s happening.

There are two men that she knows are her uncles. She knows from vital county records that Jacob Seed is the oldest, then her father, and then John Seed. Ana doesn’t know who the woman on the right is, but she slots herself so neatly into the appearance of the family that Ana’s left to wonder what her role is.

And then–

Her father.

Her actual, real, biological, flesh-blood-and-DNA father is standing in front of her. There’s only a fleeting resemblance to the laughing man in the photograph, but she knows it’s him. Even in the strange, smoky light of the church, even with the scars and tattoos and the massive gold aviators hiding his eyes, Ana feels it more than anything. Maybe that’s dramatic, or she’s being poetic again, but there’s absolutely something there, even if his eyes don’t light up with recognition when they fall on her.

But she does see his brow pinch for a moment, and he lingers there, hands outstretched, watching her with this odd sort of passiveness. She gets the idea that she and the rest of the sheriff’s department are playing into something that’s been a long time coming, like a couple pawns shuffled just so on a chessboard. And har-dee-har-har, that’s rich, because of the white yarn embroidering ROOK on the patch on Ana’s chest. Switch out two consonants and a double vowel and she might be on the other side of this confrontation.

That thought weighs oddly heavy on her as she feels the cool steel of the handcuffs through her gloves. Part of her wants to just stop the whole circus right then and there, to ask the fifty questions that have been sitting on the other end of the scale in her head for the last decade. She wants to ask if her father even knew she was alive, if he even knows who she is. She wants to pull that photograph from her wallet and shove it right under those ridiculous sunglasses, showing him that she knows. She wants to tell him how she’s followed him through birth and death certificates, newspaper clippings, and articles tucked away in internet archives.

Mostly, she wants to ask him why.

Why did he leave her in that hospital? Why did he walk away that night, leaving a dead wife and an infant daughter that he’d never get to know? Why did he leave South Carolina on one rainy night and turn up on the other side of the country in a fucking doomsday cult?

There’s no right way to ask, and apparently no right time. Ana can’t figure out how to pause this scene where she needs it to stop, just to say, Oh! Hold up! This is my actual father and I’ve spent the past few years relentlessly hunting him down! I need to talk to him before we go hauling him off to prison.

Instead, she’s left with handcuffs dangling from her left hand, both of his hands outstretched to her like an offering.

“Cuff him, Rook,” she hears the marshal say.

There’s a pause. There is a perfect pause. She could ask half her questions in that pause.

Ana grits her teeth and reaches out, latching the cuffs shut on her father’s wrists.

#far cry 5 #prompt fill #joseph seed #i probs should have made this longer but i'm already starting to get a lil bit tired #do i stay up or do i go pass out idk #ANYWAY HI MEET ANA SHE'S ANGRY AT HER FATHER

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