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just-jordie-things · 5 years ago

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What Happened 27 Years Later (alternate ending) - Richie Tozier

word count: 4025 warnings: swearing, death/gore summary: an alternate ending to a fic that ended in death and pain, that can hopefully be a cheesy way to make u feel better from all that angst :)) + original fic

___

The ground began to shake as the orbs were completely submerged inside the pyramid, and (y/n) pressed her face completely against Richie’s chest, holding him tightly and fearfully. She wasn’t sure what was happening, or when it was safe to look.

But things settled down, the winds stopped, the ground stilled, and slowly, everyone cautiously peeked their eyes open.

Mike was quick to slam the lid over the pyramid, trapping the deadlights inside.

“We did it?” Bill breathed out, unsurely.

“It’s gone?” Richie asked. “Just like that?”

“We did it,” Mike said, a tired grin tugging on his lips. “We did it, we trapped the lights”

Everyone seemed to smile, and let out sighs of relief.

(y/n) pulled away from Richie only to reach up and eagerly press her lips against his, hands splaying across his cheeks, and grinning even wider as she pulled away. He took her in his arms, lifting her off the ground as he hugged her enthusiastically.

“We fucking did it!” He cheered, even spinning the girl around before setting her back down.

Their moment was short lived, as they were soon joined by Pennywise, who mocked their efforts at defeating him, and released the deadlights from the pyramid. And if that wasn’t enough to make their fear settle in their bones again, he grew about a hundred feet, taking on the leg form of a monstrous spider, and chased them amongst the rocks with crazed laughter.

Richie haphazardly reached out for (y/n), and pulled her with him behind a tall rock that should keep them out of It’s view for a few moments, which was all he needed.

“Listen to me, are you listening to me? Listen,” Richie instructed hastily. “We dont- we don’t have much time-”

“What?” (y/n) said, urging him to hurry up before Pennywise rounded the corner and was able to see them.

“First chance you get, you run the fuck out of here-”

“Richie no-!”

“Promise me, fucking- swear to me, that if you get the chance you fucking book it, okay?” He pleaded, but she shook her head back and forth, tears welling in her eyes as Richie continued to beg her. “Swear to me- do it (y/n) swear”

“I- I can’t” She whimpered.

“You can, please, please. If you stil love me just- just fucking promise me you’ll get the hell out of here, and get safe,” She cried harder, a small gasp departing her lips as her throat burned with tears. “I need you to be safe, okay?”

He peered around the rock, seeing Pennywise nearing where they were hiding, and then turned quickly back to (y/n).

“Richie I can’t leave- I’m not leaving you again,” She wept, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Please don’t make me-”

“I’ll be there with you as soon as I can,” He promised, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “I swear it, alright? I just need you to swear to me you’ll get out of here”

“Rich” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut tight, and for a mere second relished in the feeling of the pads of his thumbs swiping away her tears.

“Do you understand me?” He spoke after a moment, and she nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Her sad eyes met his, and they alone told him everything that she needed him to know. He gave her a bittersweet smile, before drawing her face in close for him to press his lips in the space between her eyes.

“I love you,” He murmured before pulling away. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Richie could see that It was even closer, and he pushed her away from him. “Now go!”

She let out a cry as she was forced out of his hold, and the tears started up again as she made a bee-line towards the entrance of the cave they’d come in through.

She made it through the passing just before It was able to spot her, and hid under the rock as she watched It pass, and Richie ran from his hiding spot to another.

Her hands had been shaking, and she couldn’t get herself to move, even though at this point, she probably would get away. But looking at the Losers, her friends, all running about the cave and trying to hide before It could grab them and terrorize them, she couldn’t go through with it.

Her eyes caught Richie’s, who began to shake his head, already knowing what she was thinking. She gave him a sad smile, and realized she wasn’t shaking anymore.

She wasn’t afraid.

Richie shook his head again, waving his arms around in an ‘x’ sort of motion, desperate for her to listen to him. To turn around and start running.

‘I’m sorry’ she mouthed, and wiggled out of the crevice.

“(y/n)! No!” The scream Richie let out echoed over the sounds of Pennywise’s snapping jaws and clattering crab-like legs.

She wasn’t afraid, but he certainly was.

She scaled up to a cliffside that was jutted out from the cave’s wall, collecting as many rocks as she could and beginning to throw them with all the force she could muster.

And if their lives weren’t at stake, he would be proud and cheering her on as she began to launch rocks at It. But instead, his heart was beating erratically with fear as he watched her do something so reckless.

Nevertheless, he ran up to her, and joined her in pelting the monster with the largest rocks they could lift.

“You’re stupid! You’re insane!” He yelled at her, but she just gave him a wide grin, and shrugged her shoulders, before heaving up a rather large rock, swinging low so she could throw it as high as she could. It landed with a loud ‘thunk’ ‘crack’ against Pennywise’s skull, and he screeched as the area began to crack, blood pooling upwards.

“Well where do you think I picked it up from?” (y/n) asked teasingly, hands dropping to her knees as she bent over and heaved.

She only had a moment to catch her breath before Pennywise whirled around, and the small moment of victory was gone in an instant.

It’s large crooked leg knocked her off the cliffside she stood on, and sent her tumbling down to the ground below. Richie shrieked, scurrying to get down to her, but in his haste his eyes went upwards, landing on the blue circling orbs, and he was trapped in the deadlights.

(y/n) pushed herself up on shaky arms, spitting out blood and wiping haphazardly at her mouth to get the excess blood off her lips. As she got up, her eyes caught Richie, floating above her, staring with dull eyes at whatever Mike had told them not to look at.

“Richie!” She screamed, and despite her legs feeling like jelly, she shoved herself upwards and ran towards him, hoping if she jumped high enough, she could grab his leg and pull him down to her. “Richie! Come on!” She pleaded, eyes welling with tears as she tried, and failed, over and over again to grab onto him.

“(y/n)! Look out!” Eddie blared, just in time, as It came running towards her, reaching greedy hands down towards her body.

“Come on toots,” It’s voice was deranged and she hated the way her special nickname sounded coming out of it’s clown painted mouth. “Don’t you wanna float with your lover?”

She scrambled away as quickly as she could, but It was so close behind her, she was bound to be snatched right up.

“Help!” She screamed, begging her legs to move faster, but sure enough, a large hand wrapped around her torso and picked her up like she was a doll.

She screamed, throwing her fists against the back of Pennywise’s gloved hand, as though it could cause any damage anyways. The higher he pulled her upwards to his face, the more she realized she didn’t actually want him to let go of her. A fall at this height was bound to kill her. So eventually, she stopped hitting his hand, and instead clutched onto the silk glove to keep her secure.

“You’ve caused quite some trouble” It spoke angrily, leaning in close so she could see it’s bright orange eyes.

“There are other ways to make him feel small!” Mike shouted. “You have to make It feel small!”

Her eyes darted from the man on the ground, back up to the large figure that held her captive in it’s hand.

“I’m not afraid of you,” She declared, voice clear, and candid. For a moment, she swore It’s face twitched with a wince. “You’re just a clown. You’re not fucking scary. And I’m not scared of you!”

It snarled, baring it’s endless rows of razor sharp teeth as it roared right at her face. She screamed, suddenly very afraid that this was how she died, that she’d be just another one of it’s snack-turned-victims.

But just as she thought she was going to be thrown into It’s mouth like a potato chip, the roaring ceased, as a long metal spear had been thrown into it’s exposed throat, ripping through to the otherside.

Her eyes widened at the gruesome sight, and It stumbled backwards, dropping her body in the process. She screamed as she fell, but was silenced as soon as she hit the ground.

“Oh my- fuck! (y/n)!” Eddie ran over to her, helping her sit up and make sure she hadn’t hit her head too hard. “Did you see that!? Did you see what I just fucking did!?” He cheered for himself, but his voice was merely a distant echo in (y/n’s) ears.

“Wh- what about Richie?” She mumbled, rubbing her head as she looked over to see him falling from where he was floating. “Is he- oh my god”

Her legs shook, so much so that she kept on tripping and falling as she made her way over to where Richie laid, and eventually her knees completely gave out, and she collapsed at his side.

“R-Richie?” She shook him, afraid to see his eyes shut as he laid there, almost lifelessly. “Richie!?” She yelled now, grasping the material of his shirt in her hands as tears built up and burned her eyes.

He gasped, head shooting up for a moment before falling back down against the rock. He took in deep breaths and stared at her with wide eyes, not sure what had just happened that had knocked him out.

“You’re okay, you’re okay?” She repeated herself, hands moving rather quickly over his face, both comforting him and inspecting for any blood or injuries.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” He wheezed, and (y/n) took his face in her hands, a cry of relief coming from her throat. She was smiling, but still crying. “You gotta stop crying today toots, I don’t have the time to kiss all those tears away” He teased, and pushed himself to sit up on shaky arms.

“Shut the fuck up” She whimpered happily, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to sit up the rest of the way so she could hug him as tightly as possible.

Her hands grasping at his hair, and then his shoulders, and then the back of his shirt, anything she could hold. Richie buried his face in the crook of her neck, arms encircling her torso and squeezing her tight against him.

“God, Rich,” She mumbled, pulling away from him to look at his face. His glasses were a bit cracked, and there was a nasty bruise along his cheek, a little bit of blood trickling down his forehead from his hairline. “You look like shit” She giggled, carefully wiping away the blood with her thumb.

“Yeah yeah, real hot coming from you” Richie said, silently counting the cuts and bruises littered over (y/n’s) face. The cut from Bowers, a bruise at her temple, a slightly blackening eye, bloody nose, split lip, she was a mess.

It hurt to smile, but she couldn’t help it. One of her hands shakily racing to place her palm against his cheek. The expression on her face something that made Richie want to both cry and hold her in his arms for as long as possible.

“Richie…” She mumbled. “I-”

The world stuttered in it’s timeline, it had to have, because what happened next, Richie was certain it was in slow motion.

A large claw protruded through (y/n’s) chest, making her words stutter to a stop, and slowly, she bowed her head down to see that it was, in fact, It’s razor sharp leg. Impaled clean through her back.

“(y/n)!” Richie’s scream was blood curling, but all she could hear in that moment was white noise, eyes trained on the wound in her chest. She was frozen in fear, and the realization that she was going to die here hit her like a truck on the highway.

Her chest suddenly felt very warm, and as It retracted the claw that had pierced through her whole body, she realized it was because of the fresh blood streaming out of her body, dampening her clothes in a soggy red.

Richie’s hands were fumbling over the wound as Pennywise’s claw was retracted, and the other Loser’s were screaming insults at it to finish the job. Meanwhile, Richie carefully laid (y/n) down over his lap so she’d be more comfortable.

“(y/n), no… no no no, sweetheart, hey,” Richie cooed quietly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Hey it’s alright, you’re alright, we’ll get you out of here real soon-”

“Richie,” She whimpered, taking his bloody hand away from her face, and intertwining his fingers with hers. “Listen to me”

Her voice was small, but she needed him to stop his rambling so he could hear her.

“Listen- listen,” She mumbled, gathering what little strength she had to squeeze his hand. “It’s okay”

“No-! No, no it isn’t it’s not fucking okay-”

“Richie,” She cried, one tear rolling down her bloody cheek. “I’m okay, I’m gonna be okay,” She was lying through her teeth, just trying to calm him down even if it was just for a moment. “You’ll be okay”

He shook his head, tears falling freely now, but he didn’t cut her off.

Thi couldn’t be happening, not now, not after he just got her back. He just got her back, last night. And they’d had a wonderful time together, they clicked just like they had back then. He’d gotten to kiss her again, hold her again, love her again, how could this happen? How could she be ripped away from him so soon? This wasn’t fair this wasn’t fair this wasn’t-

“I love you,” She whimpered quietly, sad to even say it, given the circumstances, but she knew she had to. For both of their sakes. “Okay? I love you, I always did, okay?”

I told you ro run, why didn’t you run away? Why didn’t you listen?

It wasn’t fair. But there was no changing it, there was no way for him to fix it, and that’s what broke him the most.

There was no saving her.

“Okay,” Richie mumbled back. The finality of their situation could be heard in the one word he spoke. It was a goodbye. Holding her hand tightly in his, and his free hand stroking her hair out of her face to keep it from getting stained with blood, he nodded his head a bit down at her. “Okay. I know, toots”

It was quiet for a minute as she tried to hold back her tears, for him. SHe could feel her heart slowing, and most of her body had gone numb in shock. All she could really feel was Richie’s hand tightly holding hers. She hoped that when the time came, he’d let go. Begged whoever was up there to help him let go.

“Hey,” Richie called softly, hastily wiping at his wet eyes with the back of his hand. “(y/n) (y/l/n)”

“Richie Tozier?” She replied weakly, confused.

“Will you marry me?”

The question was so soft, she almost didn’t catch it.

A cry left her lips as she nodded, unable to hide her tears from him any longer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” She mumbled. “Yeah, I’ll marry you”

Her whimpers broke his heart, but he smiled gently down at her nonetheless.

“Alright then toots,” He whispered, and stroked her hair back again so he could lean down to her, and kiss her forehead with a featherlight touch.

She closed her eyes at the action, and they both missed Pennywise being shrunken down into dust. Too wrapped up in one another to even realize he was gone.

“Rest easy, baby” Richie said quietly, his nose pressed into the crown of her head, and his eyes squeezing shut tightly, too afraid to look at her as she took her last breath. “I love you so fucking much”

When he finally pulled away, he knew her eyes wouldn’t open again.

The girl stirred in her sleep, frustrated that she’d woken up, seeing as the sun wasn’t up yet, so it was definitely the middle of the night.

With a small groan, she rolled over and settled back into her pillows, willing her body to get just a few more hours of sleep.

Just as she started to drift off again, there was a swift kick against her leg, followed by a small whimper. Which must’ve been what woke her up in the first place.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes to get the groggy feeling to go away.

Looking down at the man in her bed, it was clear that he was having a nightmare. His whole body was shaking, legs sporadically twitching under the covers, hands clutching his pillow in a death grip, and tears were streaming down his face.

“Hey,” She murmured, softly placing her hand on his shoulder and shaking him. “Wake up, Rich, wake up”

She yawned in between shakes, and then got a little more forceful in her movements, seeing as he was still whimpering and kicking.

“Richie!” She called a bit louder, shaking his shoulders with both hands, and finally, he shot upwards in bed, panting heavily, and looking at her with crazed eyes.

She gave him a moment to catch his breath and come to his senses, before gently touching her hand to his cheek.

“Baby, you alright?” She murmured as softly as she could, not wanting him to be sent into a frenzy of sensory overload. She’d known him long enough to know that after a nightmare, he was almost hypersensitive.

He nodded, leaning his cheek further into the warmth of her touch.

“Yeah,” He breathed out, taking her hand and pulling it towards his mouth to press a kiss into her palm. “Just a nightmare”

(y/n’s) brows cinched together with concern, and she shuffled to sit closer to him on the mattress.

“You wanna talk about it?” She offered, placing her other hand on his opposite cheek too, thumbs rhythmically caressing his cheekbones.

He ducked his head for a moment, processing what had happened in the dream. It was so dark, so vivid, as if it had actually happened.

“It was- uh-” He coughed and took a deep breath before continuing. “When we were in Derry,” He told her, and she nodded, understanding those kinds of nightmares all too well. “In the caves, I couldn’t- I couldn’t save you”

His voice broke at the end of his words, and (y/n) felt a tug on her heartstrings at the pain he’d clearly gone through emotionally.

“Oh, Richie,” She hummed, leaning forward, brushing her lips over his cheek before hugging him close. Her nose buried into the crook of his neck. “Baby,” She added a few moments later, once she’d felt him relax in her hold. “You did save me,”

She pulled away, taking his face in her hands again, smiling at him.

“You saved my life Richie, you pushed me out of the way, remember?” She told him, and he nodded shakily.

He had done that. He had pushed her out of the way before Pennywise could make a move on her life. They’d gotten out of Derry alive, and they’d started their lives over, together. He was with (y/n) right now, in their apartment in New York. Everything was fine, everyone was fine.

“I’m alive because of you,” She whispered, and kissed the tip of his nose adorably. “I know the nightmares are rough, honey, but look, I’m right here”

Richie’s arms encircled her waist, and pulled her to straddle over his lap.

“I do love having you in my bed” He said teasingly, and (y/n) grinned at him, knowing he was going to be alright to go back to sleep soon.

“Well, get used to it baby” She replied, tapping her left ring finger against his cheek.

Richie’s hand reached up to the back of her neck, pulling her downwards to slant his lips against hers. (y/n) melted against him for a longing moment, before he pulled away and took her left hand from his face, admiring the ring on her finger before kissing her knuckles as well.

“I love you so much” He said, looking back up into her eyes.

“And I love you more than that,” She replied cheesily, giggling before peppering kisses over his face. “You feeling better yet?”

“Almost, can you kiss a little lower?” Richie replied, and she gave him a playful glare and a shake of her head at his antics.

(y/n) wiggled off his lap, and pulled his body down to lay back in bed with her.

“Come on idiot, I’m tired,” She told him tangling her legs with his and snuggling into his chest. “Cuddle me” She whined, and Richie chuckled before wrapping his arms around her again

As (y/n) tucked her head against his collarbone under his chin, Richie’s eyes wandered to the table against the bed. On it were his glasses, the cup of water that (y/n) only took two drinks of, and a framed photograph.

It was taken a few months ago, at a party the Losers had thrown for themselves to celebrate life in general. Being alive was something they became much more grateful for.

In it, Richie was sat on Bill’s fancy velvet couch, his arm wrapped around (y/n), who straddled over his lap. They were grinning at once another, and clinking their beer bottles in cheers to their engagement.

(y/n’s) free hand was against his cheek, fingers curling into his hair while her thumb had been swiping across his cheekbone lovingly. Anyone could tell from this photo alone just how in love they were.

Ben had taken it, as a sort of surprise wedding gift, since the original picture from their childhood had burned up as a sacrifice.

Richie loved that picture.

“I love you toots” He mumbled down into his wife’s hair, before pressing hips lips against her head, and lingering there for a few moments.

(y/n) sighed contently, tilting her head back just enough to place a few small kisses against the bottom of his jaw. With the last one, she smacked her lips dramatically. Eyes twinkling up towards his.

“I love you more” She told him, chastely kissing his lips, only for him to pull her back in for a longer, much more satisfying kiss.

When they pulled apart, (y/n) nuzzled her face back against Richie’s collarbone, already drifting off in his arms.

“Yeah, well I love you most. So. I win”

“Beep beep” (y/n) mumbled half-consciously.

“You can’t ‘beep beep’ my proclamation of love” He muttered.

“Jus’ did”

“That’s not how it- (y/n/n)? (y/n) wake up we need to talk about the beep beep rules” Richie nudged her, but she just groaned softly, far too tired to entertain him right now.

When he finally started to fall asleep, certain that (y/n) had long passed out, she mumbled softly,

“I love you the most though”

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#it #it fanfiction #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier scenario #bill hader #finn wolfhard #bill hader x reader

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duhragonball · 5 years ago

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Dragon Ball Z 245

Last time, Goku teased a new form, one beyond the Super Saiyan 2 form Vegeta and Gohan used against Buu at the start of this arc. But he’d prefer not to use it if possible.

The idea here is just to keep Majin Buu busy long enough for Trunks to fly there first and get the Dragon Radar. After that, it won’t matter (as much) if Buu destroys the place, because the Z-Figthers can use the Dragon Radar to collect the Dragon Balls and wish back all the casualties. But Trunks is distracted by Goku’s abilties. He can sense that Goku is about as strong as his father, and he’s apparently unfamiliar with Goku’s teleportation ability. The reason he’s got his eyes closed here is because Babidi is psychically broadcasting Buu vs. Goku to the world, so Trunks can watch their confrontation simply by closing his eyes.

And Goku uses that trick to speak directly to Trunks, telling him to quit gawking and do his job.

With that taken care of, Goku decides that he’s got no choice but to demonstrate his new form. First, he powers down completely, presenting this as a review of the Super Saiyan forms. Babidi doesn’t see the point, but Buu’s interested, and that’s the one Goku’s worried about.

So this is Goku in his base form.

And then he turns Super Saiyan. This is the form he used to beat Frieza. No worries there.

Then he transforms again, into the form Gohan used to beat Cell, and the one Goku and Vegeta used when they fought each other about fifteen episodes ago.

Crucially, Goku dubs this form “Super Saiyan 2″, about sixty episodes after it was introduced. So now we can finally stop calling it “beyond Super Saiyan”, “ascended Saiyan”, and whatever else this show has been throwing around. The funny thing is, everyone kind of stops referring to this form altogether after this. Goku and Vegeta continue to use it, but you almost never hear anyone spell out “Oh, he’s using Super Saiyan 2″. I don’t think anyone mentions the form in GT at all, even though a lot of guys use it.

The story I heard was that when Movie 14 happened, Akira Toriyama was so rusty with DBZ continuity that he forgot Super Saiyan 2 was ever a thing. That seems kind of odd, considering that he must have remembered the higher levels, but it doesn’t surprise me a whole lot, because it looks so similar to Super Saiyan 1, and for a very long time the form didn’t have a true name. I know that when I was watching this arc back in 2001-2002, I just considered this “Ascended” nonsense to be irrelevant. To me, the forms were one and the same, and SSJ2 was merely a Super Saiyan fighting at full power. But then I got to this episode, where Goku made it clear that Super Saiyan 1 and 2 were different things.

And this is important, because we need to establish these things so that it means something when Goku decides to go... even... further beyond! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Back in Otherworld, King Kai is freaking out, begging Goku not to do this. It’s too much! This form he’s going to use is so extreme that it’ll use up the rest of his 24 hours in the living world!

BUT THERE’S NO TURNING BACK NOW! THE MUSIC IS ALREADY PLAYING, KING KAI! Oh, shit, I forgot the music.

youtube

It’s called “Ssj3 Power Up” on Bruce Faulconer’s DBZ American Soundtrack volume IV.

The Japanese version, sadly, does not have a theme song this badass for this moment. I really don’t understand that, because they should have known one was called for here. Let’s face it, not much happens during this scene, and they seemed to recognize that issue when Gohan turned Super Saiyan 2 for the first time. Then again, Faulconer kind of whiffed it on Gohan turning Super Saiyan 2, so I can’t critique the Japanese score too harshly. But if you’re a subs-only fan and you want to give the American dub a chance, this is one of the better episodes to sample.

Meanwhile NO ONE KNOWS WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON THIS IS INSANE! GOKU’S ENERGY IS SO HUGE RIGHT NOW U GAIS!

WHAT ARE THESE CLOUDS DOING THIS IS NUTS!

NO SAILING TODAY, THERE’S A SUPER SAIYAN 3 WEATHER ALERT!

I’M GOING TO YELL THE REST OF THIS LIVEBLOG BECAUSE IT’S SO EXTREEEEEEEEME! GOKU’S GOTTA FIGHT THIS DUDE AND HE PROBABLY WOULD HAVE LIKED TO HAVE SEX WITH HIS WIFE INSTEAD BUT THAT’S OUT OF THE QUESTION NOW! SHE’S PASSED OUT BECAUSE SHE THINKS THEIR SON IS DEAD, WHICH IS QUITE THE MOOD-KILLER IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! ALSO IMAGINE YOU’RE TRYING TO FOOL AROUND WITH YOUR WIFE AND SOME TALKING ANCHOVY STARTED TALKING IN YOUR MIND AND YOU CAN’T CLOSE YOUR EYES BECAUSE NOW YOU CAN SEE THE PUBES ON HIS SCALP. AND HE’S ALL “TEE HEE HEE I’M GOING TO SEND MY BUBBLE GUM MONSTER TO BLOW UP SOME MORE SHIT!” THAT WOULD ALSO BE QUITE THE MOOD-KILLER IN ADDITION TO THE DEAD SON THING.

I MEAN MAYBE A COUPLE COULD WORK THROUGH ONE OR THE OTHER BUT NOT BOTH. IF I WERE MARRIED TO CHI-CHI I’D LIKE TO THINK I COULD FULFILL MY MARITAL DUTIES IN SPITE OF THE TALKING ANCHOVY IN MY HEAD. I WOULDN’T ENJOY IT AS MUCH, BUT CHI-CHI’S A FINE WOMAN WHO DESERVES THE BEST IN LIFE. BUT IF OUR SON WAS DEAD THAT WOULD JUST BE TOO MUCH. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT BONER POISON I’M SORRY CHI-CHI IN THE AU WHERE WE’RE MARRIED AND HAVING SEX.

THERE’S NO STOPPING THIS KING KAI. E! C! W! E! C! W! E! C! W!

O-LAYYYYYYYYY, O-LAY! OLE, OLE, OLE, O-LAYYYYYYYYYYYY!

CROSSWALK SIGNS EXPLODE FROM THE SHEER INTENSITY OF GOKU’S POWAAA

WINDOWS BREAK AND SPILL GLASS ALL OVER EVERYBODY!

THIS IS MY FAVORITE PART WHERE THIS NEWSCASTER IS COVERING THE HORROR OF THE BUU CRISIS--

WHEN SUDDENLY HE CAN FEEL IT! THIS JUST IN THERE’S SOMEONE SCARIER THAN MAJIN BUU AND HE’S BROUGHT GOKUTOWN BACK TO EARTH! ONE NIGHT ONLY!

THEN THE TV BREAKS BECAUSE IT KNOWS BETTER

GOKU’S KI IS SO POWERFUL IT EVEN BREAKS THE NO-TIEN RULE ON THIS WHOLE ARC. PEOPLE DON’T KNOW THIS BUT CHIAOTZU SLEPT WITH THE PRESIDENT OF TOEI’S WIFE AND HE WAS SO MAD HE TOLD TORIYAMA “YOU KEEP THAT LITTLE HOMEWRECKER OUT OF YOUR STUPID KARATE COMIC, YOU GOT IT?” AND TORIYAMA DIDN’T HAVE TO DO IT BUT HE RESPECTED WHAT THE GUY WAS GOING THROUGH SO THAT’S WHY THEY DIDN’T SHOW UP IN THE TOURNAMENT BUT GOKU’S SCREAMING HAS SHATTERED THE TIMESPACE CONTINUUM AND NOW TORIYAMA HAD TO DRAW THESE TWO AGAIN BECAUSE REALITY BROKE DOWN THAT BAD.

EVEN THE MIGHTY MISTER SATAN IS POWERLESS AGAINST THE SHEER METAL THAT IS COURSING THROUGH THIS DOOMED EARTH.

MULLETS EVERYWHERE VIBRATE IN HARMONY WITH GOKU’S EXPANDING HAIR

THEN HE’S ALL TINY AND THE WHOLE WORLD GOES BLACK IT’S LIKE A METAPHOR OR SOMETHING THIS IS ART YOU PHILLISTINES

I DON’T KNOW WHAT OOZARUS HAVE TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS GOKU LOST HIS TAIL LIKE 20 YEARS AGO AND IT WAS SO UNIMPORTANT THEY DIDN’T EVEN SHOW IT.

IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE PLANET VEGETA? IS GOKU JUST THINKING ABOUT PLANETS HE LIKES?

BABIDI DIDN’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THIS A MINUTE AGO, BUT GOKU’S GOT HIS ATTENTION NOW DOESN’T HE?

AND THEN HE’S ALL DONE! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE, GOKU, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD?

JUST IN CASE ANYONE’S NOT CLEAR ON THIS, HE EXPLAINS THAT THIS IS SUPER SAIYAN 3. WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS EYEBROWS? THEY GOT SUCKED INTO HIS HEAD, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED.

SO NOW HE JUST LOOKS AT BUU AND HE’S LIKE YOU COME GET THIS WORK.

MEANWHILE ON THE SUPREME KAI PLANET THEY CAN FEEL GOKU’S POWER ALL THE WAY FROM THERE AND THEY’RE LIKE WHAA?

SO BUU SAW ALL OF THAT BUT HE’S NOT IMPRESSED. GOKU’S LIKE FINE LET’S DO THIS ALREADY.

MEANWHILE TRUNKS MADE IT HOME BUT NO ONE KNOW WHERE DRAGON RADAR NO

BUU TRIES TO ATTACK BUT ALL HE DOES IS CATCH THESE HANDS. GOKU BEATS THE CRAP OUT OF HIM....

... OR THAT’S WHAT WOULD HAPPEN, EXCEPT BUU HARDLY TAKES ANY DAMAGE, AND HE RESPONDS WITH A RAPID FIRE ATTACK. GOKU’S ALL “THAT’S VEGETA’S MOVE WTF” AND I’M LIKE “HOW IS THAT VEGETA’S TRADEMARK THING IT’S JUST SHOOTING HAND ENERGY VERY FAST. DON’T ACT LIKE BUU IS SOME SORT OF GENIUS FOR FIGURING THAT OUT. I DON’T THING VEGETA EVEN USED THAT ON HIM, SO HOW DID HE LEARN IT?”

KING KAI’S STILL PLEADING WITH GOKU TO CALL IT A DAY. IF HE RUNS OUT OF TIME, HE WON’T BE ABLE TO TEACH GOTEN AND TRUNKS HOW TO FUSE!

BUT NO THESE TWO BIG OL’ BOYS ARE HAVING A WRESTLE.

BUU’S REALLY INTO THIS BUT BABIDI KEEPS YELLING AT HIM TO FINISH GOKU OFF. HE’S LIKE SOME SHITTY ALIEN JIM CORNETTE WHINING ABOUT HOW BUU DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO WORK. SO BUU TELLS HIM TO STFU.

BABIDI’S LIKE HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME THAT WAY I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I’M A LEVEL 20 WARLOCK WITH ANCHOVY-BOOGER POWER SIR.

GOKU’S JUST FRUSTRATED THAT TRUNKS STILL HASN’T LEFT WEST CITY YET, SO HE JUST HAS TO KEEP DROPPING HURTIN’ BOMBS ON THIS PINK FOOL.

MEANWHILE TRUNKS CAN’T FIND THE RADAR BECAUSE IT’S NOT ANYWHERE ASSSDFGHJKL;;

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #majin buu saga #majin buu #babidi #goku #gohan #trunks #kibito #supreme kai #tien #chiaotzu #yamcha #videl #krillin #king kai #super saiyan 3 #macklunkey

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bl-giftexchange · 7 years ago

Text

A Haunted Holiday

To: @nerdsfordayz From: @nessiefromspace

Hi! I hope you like my fic! It was fun writing it! ^__^

Timothy had bought the house on the cheap. Not like a really good price that was a big steal impressing others. It was the kind of cheap where the seller was beyond desperate with a foreclosure. In fact, Tim had offered a lower price, his maximum he could spend and they'd taken it without hesitation. It was their quick response that had Tim curious. The large, colonial style house was the only available place in the small town where Tim had been able to find residence. Which had Tim thinking it would have been more costly, but the six bedroom, three and a half bath was his property faster than a pin dropping.

It hadn’t taken Tim a week to figure it out. The place was haunted, and not just with one ghost. No, so far, Tim had counted nine ghosts and a goo, sludge monster that always clogged the pipes. That was why he’d gotten such a desperate deal. His home had been haunted for over a hundred years and had reached a stagnation when the previous owner had mysteriously died. It had been startling at first and Tim would admit a bit concerning, now he knew what to look for.

He developed habits in the first months that kept him alive from the untrusting creatures. He knew to start a bath in two bathrooms, then see which got clogged with black goo and use the other bath. He’d made the habit of jiggling the stair railing to gauge how loose it was. Then, depending, he would use the other set of stairs to avoid mysteriously falling or continue if it was safe. He also found the only unhaunted room and had camped there, even if it was the most rundown. As he set his bags in his room, he informed the house that he valued their privacy and hoped they valued his. They had responded by opening and closing the bedroom door when he was sleeping or changing. Tim would take a deep breath and then smile and ask if they were doing these things because they were lonely or scared and wanted company. They would stop immediately and leave him alone for the rest of the time. Those moments of talking to them had inspired Tim to begin talking with them regularly. They were after all, real beings in his home and ignoring them would be rude.

As Tim learned their habits more and more, they got that much more irritated with him, forcing him to drop his things, or send food flying. His only response would be disappointment, telling them they should have better manners, they weren’t cavemen. It was tough, but Tim pressed on, refusing to give up. He hardly jumped at all when they tried to scare him, a feat he was proud of. And he’d grown resistant to the small sparks of electricity they were always giving him. A lot of days, he worked in the small coffee shop in town and he would keep his work in his car and park the car outside to keep his most important things safe. He’d discovered quickly, that they could not leave the house, which was a bit of solace to Tim.

It wasn’t until he was moving boxes to the attic three months into living here that he saw an entity for the first time. It was a female ghost who had popped out, trying to scare him. She wore a flapper dress and kitten heels. Her short, blonde hair razored to her neck with a gorgeous band of gems dangling around her head and down her forehead, matching the bracelet she wore over her gloves. Tim had jumped a little, startled, but he smiled at her and introduced himself.

She’d frowned. “You’re not scared? That’s new.”

Tim had shrugged. “Why should I be scared of my roommates?”

“Because we’re monsters,” she said plainly.

Stopping from his work, Tim looked her up and down and then shrugged. “Don’t look like a monster to me.” He smiled. “Are you always up here? It’s freezing! Do ghosts get cold? I’ve been wondering if I should get the heat to come up here, or if it gets warm enough with the residual heat from the house?”

The woman looked startled. “You… You’ve… been thinking about me? I’m a ghost. Ya know, haunt you and make you fall down the stairs to your death?”

Tim looked at the doorway to the stairs. “It that what happened to the last owner?”

“He was a pig.”

“Huh,” Tim said. He looked at her again. “Anyway? Are you warm enough up here?” Tim felt the prickling on the back of his neck of a second ghost sneaking up behind him, but he smiled at her anyway.

“Don’t,” she said, her eyes looking next to him. The goosebumps resided. She looked at Tim fully then. “I can get cold, but the residual heat is enough.”

Tim thought for a moment and then smiled at her. “I think I’ll get some heat pipes put in. Good enough may be good enough, but not for me. My name’s Tim, by the way, or Timothy, but I usually go by Tim.”

The woman eyed him wearily. “Nice to meet you.”

He did not learn her name that day, but when he announced when the construction was going to begin, he asked them to be polite and not chase them out, or else the attic wouldn’t be warm in the fast approaching winter. To his great delight, and the surprise of the only company brave enough to work on his house, the heating system was easily and quickly installed. It would also double as the cooling system in the summertime. Tim frowned as the men quickly left without walking him through their work. He went up to the attic and inspected it.

“What?” the woman asked.

“I don’t know… It just… Their work was really fast, like really, really fast…” he looked at her hopefully. “Do you think you or another one of our roommates could take a look at it? I want to make sure the job was done correctly.”

The woman looked at Tim for a long time. “I cannot leave this attic, but I can ask someone to help… I… I must admit I didn’t believe you at first, and for that, I apologize.”

Timothy smiled. “I get it, I’m a stranger.”

“Yes…” She smiled then. “I’m Jane, or Janey. Thank you.”

“Hello, Janey! And you’re welcome! I just hope that they did their jobs correctly.”

They hadn’t. Timothy had words with that company, calling them lazy and cowards, demanding to get different workers who were competent and not about to put his life in danger. “What if a fire started because of their faulty work?” He listened to more apologetic words. “Look, just come and fix it, but don’t expect to get paid more than half of your normal price. Your workers were undisturbed the whole time they worked, so I don’t understand what their problem was, except that they must have been trying to do me harm.” That had really lit a fire under the owner and it had been fixed and set up properly by himself.

That had somehow earned the trust of the whole house and they allowed Tim to them fully and all the time now. They stopped messing with him and Tim could eat properly in his home now, or touch a light switch without getting shocked. He learned their names and now they walked around freely and talked with him.

So, when Hubert was crying one day, Tim immediately went to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just whining and pitying myself,” he sighed glumily.

Tim smiled and put his laundry down. “I do really want to know, Hubert.”

“It’s just… I’ve always dreamed of being one of those mischievous ghosts, but you’ve never noticed me.”

“I- what?” Tim asked, his eyes large, he had no idea what Hubert was talking about.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, stalking through the wall in the hallway.

Another ghost, Olivia stood next to Tim, an amused smirk on her face. “He rearranges your eggs.”

Tim started. “What? But how am I supposed to notice that?”

She shrugged. “He also ruffles your pillows, makes your towels crooked, moves your clothes around in your drawer, and moves the furniture an inch to the side.”

“Huh, I thought that was just because I hadn’t gotten the pads for wood floors… Hmm…”

After that, Tim took precautions, numbering his eggs and paying close attention to how his things were placed, so as he went through his day, he noticed what Hubert shifted and could feign annoyance and make a show of putting couches back. Hubert smiled a lot more, though Tim caught the slight blush in his cheeks when he inconvenienced Tim.

The last ghost wasn’t discovered until he explored the guest house and the door shot immediately behind him. Tim stopped and smiled. “Oh! Hello! My name is Timothy, or Tim to my friends and roommates. I’m the new owner of the house, but just because I own the place doesn’t mean this isn’t your home either! In fact, if I had known, I would have introduced myself sooner, but the main house ghost never said anything. So, there’s eleven of you in total…” He giggled. “Oh! Here I am just rambling! Anyway, if there’s anything I could do for you, just let me know. I can clean up in here and install heating for the winter, I installed the heat in the attic for-”

A harsh chill ran through him, shoving him against the door. The ghost appeared before him, pinning him with her arm against his neck. Her dark hair was slicked back, her features masculine and deadly.

She leaned in close to him. “You have met Janey?” she demanded.

Tim nodded. His throat was icey and he could feel the pressure that restricted his airflow, but there was nothing touching him. This was the first time Tim had ever experienced something like this.

“And she introduced herself, which means she trusts you.” With that, the woman stepped back. Tim got a full look at her now, in a pinstripe suit and polished men’s shoes. “I don’t know how you gained her trust, but you need to know something. The rules of this place.”

“Oh… Okay-”

“Stop talking. The first thing to know is that a sorcerer once owned this house in eighteen sixteen. He collected every soul in this house for his evil deeds. The second thing to know is he got an apprentice in the nineteen-twenties named Jane and he fell in lust with her, but when she refused his advances, he grew insanely mad and jealous. He tricked her and her lover to come here where he killed them and set a curse over them. If anyone says her lover’s name in the main house, it will unleash a horrible monster the sorcerer created himself. It will devour all the ghosts and humans who enter the house and then consume everything in this world. Never ever say the name, Athena, in that main house. Ever.”

Tim thought for a long moment, processing everything. “I take it you’re Athena, then? Why can we say the name here?”

Athena grunted. “You’re smart. I was told, when the bastard trapped me in here, that Janey thought I was gone, my spirit moved on, so precautions weren’t necessary. And he just really wanted me to suffer.”

“That’s horrible! That’s… That’s…” Timothy could not think of the words. “Wait, what stops Janey from saying your name?”

Athena clenched her teeth. “I’m… I’m also told that…” Athena looked out the window facing the house, her eyes training to the attic. “She doesn’t remember me. She would remember if someone said my name, but…”

A sniffle escaped Timothy. Athena whizzed around to look at him, Tim wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, that’s just… So, incredibly sad! What a horribly cruel man!”

Eyeing him wearily, she glanced back at the house. “Yes, he was.”

“Did he die here?”

Athena shrugged. “All I know is I felt the day he died and while it gave me tremendous joy, it did not break our curse. If I could leave this place, seek out this demon and kill it, I would, but ghosts cannot go outside. We are trapped in the homes we died in.”

Tim had vowed that night to find a way to help them. He didn’t know how, but he would. He returned to the house, miming to the others that he knew. They were relieved, but worried. He promised never to say the name until he knew how to rid the evil. That seemed to agitate them, but as the months passed and nothing happened, they calmed.

Tim had also made it a priority to always keep the shades pulled open in the attic. That way Athena could catch glimpses. He didn’t know how helpful it was, but visits let him know it had made her more open and helpful to him.

.::::.

He sighed as he pushed his cart through the department store, searching for wrapping paper. Christmas was two days away and he was running out of time to get all his roommate’s presents ready. Once he’d found the perfect wrapping paper, he found each of them a card.

As he read one for Athena, hands wrapped around his eyes and a large, warm man leaned into him. “Guess who?” he whispered.

Smirking, Tim gasped. “Shh! We can’t let anyone know I’m having an affair!”

Deep laughter rolled over him. Tim turned as the hands left his eyes and he smiled at Wilhelm, a man he’d started dating within the last month. They weren’t officially a couple yet, and that was okay with Tim. He wasn’t sure how to explain Tim’s situation with his home, not to mention why Rhys would never want to have sex in his home. The idea of a stray ghost or two that might interrupt them during sex, was too much for Tim.

He smirked and pulled Tim into a kiss. “I see you’re buying cards for your family to go with their presents you sent to my house instead of yours, where they won’t be staying.”

Tim smiled sheepishly. “I’m just a little paranoid.”

“Mmm… Wanna get something to eat?”

“I should really wrap those presents…”

“Good, we’ll eat at my place. I’ll get the ingredients while you…” he waved his hand at the cards.

Timothy smiled wide as Wilhelm left. Sure the man was twice his age, Tim was not ashamed. Tim was lucky to have someone as cool and badass and buff as well as caring and adventurous in his life. Timothy felt himself heat at those adventurous memories. Wil was good at pulling Timothy out of his comfort zone and it was exciting. Often though, Tim reminded himself they hadn’t actually become a couple yet. He could not get his hopes up or start planning a future. He had promised himself to enjoy the moment with Wilhelm and let it take him where it may. Except to Tim’s house.

He’d gotten the last card when Wil came back with food and beer, all complimenting each other. Wil loved to cook and always made something wonderful. Tim smiled and walked with him to the cashier. Tim loaded his car up with both their things. Wil only had his motorcycle, which would not hold his groceries. Tim was not sure how he had planned on getting his things home if Tim hadn’t been there, but Wil was always resourceful. They met at his place, a rented, single-wide, manufactured home. They parked and unloaded their things.

“Hey, Tim, wanna take a ride again?” Wil’s wolfish smile had Tim blushing. They had taken a ride into the woods up to a lookout point where Wil had bent Tim over his bike and the memory heated Tim. Wil pulled Tim close, holding him and kissing him. “Hmm? Under the stars, all alone with just the bike?” His hand slipped under Tim’s jeans to squeezed his bare ass.

Tim flushed, biting his lip as Wil’s hand reached further and further down, pressing into Tim and making him gasp. He leaned into Wil, hands fisting in his shirt, and muffling any sound he made. Wil teased him, pressing, but never further. He could feel Wil’s smirk as the man kissed Tim’s neck and rubbed a finger over him.

“W-Wil…” Tim breathed, they were in public, afterall.

“Yeah.” Wil lead Tim inside, not removing his hand from Tim’s ass.

As Wilhelm made dinner, Tim wrapped his presents happily. He’d turned on Christmas music and while, Wilhelm hadn’t reacted to it, Tim had caught him dancing. He swayed his hips, quietly singing. It filled Tim’s heart and he watched for a while, smiling wide. When the presents were all wrapped, he moved on to the cards, to write an individual message into each. He worked hard to get them perfect and they were going to stay perfect until they were opened.

Wilhelm visited him while he waited for the next step in the meal. He kissed Tim’s neck, looking over his things. “So, are you going to send these to your family?”

Tim thought for a moment. “Maybe.”

That gained a growl from Wil. “Still so mysterious.” He pulled Tim’s chin, tilting his head back. “How can you be so adorable and sexy and mysterious and cute at the same time?” He kissed Tim.

He giggled. “I doubt I’m really all that mysterious or sexy. I’m just me.”

The man stared at Tim for a long time. “I like just you,” he finally said.

A warm smile crept over Tim’s face. “Yeah? Awkward dork and all?”

“Mhmm, and all these wonderful freckles.” Wil pulled Tim’s shirt up as he said this. He smoothed over Tim’s fire red hair and biting Tim’s neck. He winced when Wil bit just a little too hard. A timer went off and Wil sighed, leaving Tim to tend to their food.

Tim, rosey all over now, tried to focus back on his letter to Athena. Through an aroused fog, he managed to write something sincere and stuck it in an envelope. He was all finished. He cleaned up and set the table and the two ate.

“So, how far along’s the house renovations?”

Tim smiled. “It’s good! The contractor's stopped being wusses and they’re almost done! Just a couple more touch ups and it’s a normal house.”

“Good. At least you let them into your house.”

Timothy flushed at his pointed look. “Look… It’s just… I’m embarrassed, it’s a mess…”

“So, it’s not that it’s haunted anymore?” Wil looked at him knowingly. It made Tim even more sheepish. Wil smirked and leaned forward. “I know how you can make it up to me,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

Tim rolled his eyes and crawled under the table.

Wilhelm leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “I meant do the dishes, but this is good too.”

Tim swore, flustered. He wanted to stay under the table for the rest of time. Wil stuck his hand under and motioned for Tim to go to him. Face hot as the sun, Tim complied, snaking up between Wil’s legs and avoiding his gaze. He sat on his knees, his hands resting on Wil’s muscular thighs.

Wil tipped his chin up and kissed his lips. “You’re too damn cute.”

Sighing heavily, Tim let his head fall against Wil’s stomach. His head bounced when Wil began to laugh. “Why do I have to be so embarrassing?” he groaned.

“Not embarrassing, cute. Hmmm, this is a great view.” Wil pulled Tim’s jeans up, peaking in.

Timothy giggled.

.::::.

When Tim had finished the dishes, his cheeks freshly flushed in an afterglow, he dried his hands and set about packing his things into his car. He found to his surprise that Wilhelm had already done it.

Timothy wrapped his arms around Wil and kissed him. “You’re so good to me.”

“Eh, I could do better.”

He kissed Wil. “You are better already.”

The man smiled and then went to Tim’s passenger side and climbed in. Tim froze. He went over to the driver’s door and opened it, leaning down to look at him. “Uh… What are you doing?” He tightly spread his lips into what he hoped was a casual smile.

When Wil’s eyes landed on them, he guessed not. “I’m going with you, you’re gonna need help bringing in all these presents and stuff.”

“Uh…”

Wil smiled at him and patted the driver’s seat. “C’mon, it’s cold out here.”

Tim mechanically slid in and started the car. He knew the moment he parked in his garage, Wilhelm would want to go inside. He was nervous, he didn’t want Wil to get hurt and he couldn’t have Wil trying something and being watched.

But there they were, parked in Tim’s garage, the door closing and the car turned off. “We’re… Here…” Tim said nervously.

“Yep!” Wil got out and Tim sighed heavily, opening the trunk door. As he got out, Wil scooped up the large presents and other groceries, including a large duffel bag.

Tim blinked as he loaded the last bit in his arms. “You brought an overnight bag?”

Wil shrugged. “Thought I should be prepared.” He winked.

Tim flushed and glared at Wil’s back as he lead the way into Tim’s house. “You sure you haven’t been here before?” Tim asked bitterly.

As they entered the house in the entryway, the door slammed hard. Tim jumped, bumping into Wilhelm and making him drop all the items in his arms. Tim had kept a firm hold on his, but Wil had packed everything in, making it easy to spill over.

Out of nowhere, Norman, the self appointed head of the house appeared and dashed at them. “GET. OUT!” He knocked the boxes out of Tim’s arms.

“HEY!” Tim yelled. “STOP KNOCKING OVER MY PRESENTS!”

Norman’s ghostly voice echoed around them, thick and cold and deadly. “Get. Him. Out.”

Tim put his hand on his hips, glaring at the hovering ghost. “Well, yeah, I was trying, but you’re slamming doors that are preventing him from leaving! Not only is that confusing, but also now he knows about you and us!”

Norman, quite corporeal now, turned pale.

“Yeah!” Tim scolded. “And not to mention you tipped over my presents for you and the others!” Tim’s face was red and he didn’t care if Wil overheard anymore. “I carefully looked, and bought them! And then I had to find for the perfect wrapping paper, and wrap them and decorate them and find each of you the perfect cards, and then you just knock them over!” He wiped the angry tears from his eyes. “I had them shipped to a different house so they’d be a surprise for you! This took me since October, Norman! And you just…” Tim sighed and wiped his eyes again. He bent down and picked up the presents, all anger or passion sucked out of him.

Norman looked ashamed, but he stared at Wilhelm wearily. Wilhelm stared at Tim, dumbfounded. He picked everything up and followed Tim into the dining room. “You can see them?”

Tim shrugged. He set the bent and busted presents on the table and sniffled. Wilhelm set the others next to them. Tim looked them over, distraught.

“Tim, we need to talk…”

“Mmm,” he said, surveying the damage. He frowned and looked at Wil. “What do you mean, ‘can I see them?’” He pointed at Norman. “You can see Norm?”

“Norm? The ghost?” Wil looked from the ghost back to Tim, his face stoic. “Yeah, I can see all matter of supernatural things.”

“Ah.” But Tim was once again looking over the presents. Boxes had been smashed, wrapping torn and ribbon tangled and wrinkled. Thankfully, nothing looked broken, but now he’d have to start all over and he couldn’t trust them to take care not to look or knock them over.

Suddenly, Wilhelm was guiding him away from the presents. “Timothy,” he said gently, anchoring each hand on Tim’s shoulders. “I’m sorry about your presents. I’ll help you rewrap them.”

Tim nodded.

“I can see ghosts. They didn’t show themselves to me.”

Tim frowned. “You can?”

“Yes,” Wilhelm sighed. He straightened and looked awkward for the first time since Tim had known him. “Look… I’ve been here before… In this house. When it was foreclosed and I’ve met all these ghosts before. I was actually trying to-”

“Get rid of us!” Norman burst out.

Timothy glared at him. He ducked his head and backed up a little.

“Yeah… It’s… It’s my job,” Wilhelm said.

“What?” Tim looked at Wilhelm, taking a step back. “You’re job… But what about-”

“I do own the shop, but that just pays the bills. My real job is to hunt supernatural beings and destroy them or send them off to the other side where they belong. That’s what I was trying to do here, not destroy them, but help them move on, but no matter which ghost I picked, none of them could go. So, I left to research it…”

Timothy frowned. “I know why you can’t.”

“What? How?” Wilhelm looked impressed.

Grunting, Tim crossed his arms. “I asked them. Jeez, it’s not like it was hard.”

Wilhelm looked at Tim like he was insane. “You… Wait, you asked them? But they’ve killed a man! They haunt and attack everyone in this house. Are you saying they never attacked you?”

“We tried,” Norman said. He wandered over to the presents.

“Don’t touch them,” Tim warned.

His fingers curled away. “We haunted him and kept him from sleep and rotted his food and flooded the place… We even loosened the railing, but all that did was tell him there were multiple ghosts and he just started talking to all of us…” He wandered over to them. “He wasn’t afraid of us and he was careful to learn our tricks and he… He learned about us and tried to accommodate us, like this was our home… Like we were deserving…” Norman straightened, pulling his hands behind his back. “Tim, I apologize for my ghastly behavior and I will make sure no one sees their gifts. I will make it up to you.”

Timothy smiled softly. “Thank you, Norman.”

“You weren’t afraid of them?” Wilhelm asked.

“They’re just ghosts, and one goo… sludge… thing,” Tim said, frowning. “They’re not monsters.”

Wilhelm stared at Tim for a long time. He was avoiding Wil’s gaze.

“Now, since you’re an expert at these things, we could use your help. Do you know what the beast is that’s keeping everyone here?” Tim’s voice was all business, cold and removed.

“Tim…” Wilhelm reached for him.

Tim stepped back, dodging Wil’s reached. “Don’t!” He took a deep, calming breath, his cheeks redding and eyes misting. “You lied to me, just… Don’t.” Tim wiped his tears and took a deep breath, looking Wil in the eyes. “Just help me with my family.”

Norman looked startled.

Wilhelm sighed. “Okay.”

“Good. Do you know about the beast here?”

Nodding, Wilhelm went to his bag, which was full of instruments Tim could only assume was for his true job and not an overnight bag. More lies. Wil pulled out a large roll of blueprints and a notebook. “From what I’ve read about situations like this, it’s a curse. And the only way to break it is to bring the two cursed objects together. They have to touch.”

“That’s impossible! There’s no way to get it into the main house.”

Wilhelm smirked. “So, there’s an extra ghost in-”

“Stop!” Tim hissed. “There’s only one rule in this house. We don’t talk about that, otherwise the beast will be released.”

“That’s a good rule.”

Tim nodded. “And what we need is in the guest house, across the yard. There’s no way.”

That gained a smirk from Wil. “There is a way. This house was built with an underground tunnel to there.”

Tim’s eyes widened and he stood next to Wil, looking over the blueprints. He followed the tunnel. “In theory… This could work,” he smiled at Wil.

Wil looked at him longingly, his eyes drifting to those lips.

Immediately, Tim pulled away and looked in Wil’s bag. “You think you have everything to do this with?”

“You want to do it now?”

Tim eyed him.

The older man growled. “I’m not trying to be antagonistic, Tim. I’m just making sure I understand that you plan to run in, unprepared, guns blazing.”

“If we can’t do it now, we might as well just give up. I promised to break this curse and I’m going to.”

Wilhelm sighed and then after a moment, smirked. “Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

Tim nodded and they looked through his bag for anything Timothy might need on hand and then Wil hefted the bag over his shoulder. They began to leave the kitchen when Tim noticed Norman standing by the table, unmoving.

“Wow, you really meant you’d guard them.”

“I will not be moved!” He saluted Tim.

Timothy smiled warmly. “Thank you, Norman.”

Leaving the main floor, Tim lead the way to the basement. The basement had items from the inhabitants over the years that had never been thrown away. Tim had glanced through everything, noting the oldest things were some furniture he had plans to bring back to life and an old, haunted looking trunk. The large, ornate lock was enough of a warning for him to never, ever touch the worn trunk. He went to where the map showed it, but all they found was a brick wall. Tim sighed. “Great.”

Wilhelm left and returned with a large sledge hammer. He struck the brick hard. Tim took a step back and found something to sit on. He waited, trying hard not to watch. He tried to ignore those muscles moving elegantly under those clothes, expanding and contacting. Tim had always loved Wil’s strength, but now, when he looked at Wil, all he felt was betrayed.

Though, Tim supposed, with the time to think about it, that Wil had been protecting himself. He hadn’t known Tim at all or that Tim could see the ghosts or that they were Tim’s friends. And they hadn’t been dating long. Weren’t even officially a couple, but how much of what Wil had ever said was truth or not?

An hour later, Wil, skin glistening from sweat had made a large enough hole to move through. Tim picked up the heavy bag and went through.

Wil followed, clicking on a flashlight. “I can take that, Tim.”

“You need to rest.” Tim continued ahead.

“I’m okay.”

“I over reacted,” Tim said. He didn’t look at Wil as they walked. “I felt betrayed, but it wasn’t like we were serious or we’d known each other that long. You’re job requires secrecy and you didn’t know me that well… Don’t know me that well. You probably didn’t know I had any connection to the ghosts.”

“I didn’t,” Wil stepped in front of Tim, making him stop. “I didn’t know you, and yeah, when we first started talking, I was just trying to feel out who you were, but then you were cute and sweet and I…” he ran his hands through his hair. “I started to really like you and then I started to worry if they were going to hurt you.”

He frowned, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “That’s why you bullied your way in tonight?”

Wilhelm nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you-”

“You did though.” And this time, Tim looked at Wil. “The moment you realized I was safe to tell, you told me.” Tim stretched upward and kissed Wilhelm. “I over reacted, I’m sorry.”

Pulling Tim close, Wil kissed him fully. “You are too sweet.”

Nails slightly digging into Wil’s shoulders, Tim bit his lip. “I’m really only apologizing because watching you bust down that wall was stupidly hot.”

The large man chuckled. “I will remember that.” Wil let go of Tim and they continued on their way.

“So,” Tim said, sidling up to Wil’s side. “You hunt these creatures? How’d you get into that business?”

Lazily, Wil pulled on Tim’s hip, bringing him close. “I can see them without any spells or them showing themselves to me. Some order found me and trained me and then tried to use me for their own shit and I killed them.”

Tim would have stopped walking if Wil hadn’t been pulling on him. “W-woah… I’m… I’m sorry… That’s horrible.”

Wilhelm shrugged. “It was over thirty years ago.”

“That’s still a horrible thing to do.”

Again, Wil shrugged. When they reached the end of the tunnel, they found a floor hatch. Wil handed the light to Tim and pushed up on it. It was a solid door with a solid padlock dangling in front of them.

“So, now that we’re not in the main house,” Wil said, grabbing his bag and looking through it. “What exactly has happened in this place?”

“A sorcerer got butt hurt that a woman didn’t find him attractive and cursed her and her lover, Athena. If he can’t have Janey, no one can.”

“Ah.” He took hold of a crowbar and shoved it into the padlock. It broke easily, the years having worn it down. Wilhelm lifted it, forcing through the large rug that restrained them. Wilhelm worked on pulling the rug to the side while Tim called out.

“It’s just me, Athena, well, and a friend, but he’s here to help!” As Wil threw the rug off, Tim poked his head out and smiled. He couldn’t see her, but he continued to talk. “He’s a…” he looked at Wil.

“Hunter.”

“Hunter… But he’s not here to harm you. We’re gonna break the curse!”

Now Athena appeared looking skeptical and weary of Wilhelm. Her arms were crossed. “That’s impossible, I can’t-”

“Leave the house, yeah, but!” Tim pointed at the tunnel. “This tunnel is part of the house! It was here before you died, so you can use it!”

“And what will you do once I enter the house?”

Tim looked at Wil for a moment, seeing if he had any ideas. When he offered none, Tim shrugged. “Run?”

Athena’s brow crooked upward. “Run?”

“Yeah, Wil and I will distract the beast and you high-tail it to the attic. There’s a heating system you can use to get up there if you can’t go through the door.”

She frowned. “Tim, that’s… crazy. You don’t have a plan.”

“Do you wanna see her or not?”

“Of course I do!” Athena snapped. “I’ve been stuck here for eighty-eight years, longing for her, but what if we fail?”

“Not an option!” Timothy said, enthusiasm bursting like a fountain.

“That’s no answer.”

“Okay,” Tim sighed. “So, we just made this half-cocked plan, but even if we’ve prepared for years and years, it’s still risky. We could have a fool-proof plan and then it all go to shit for some reason or another. We’re as ready as we’re ever going to be. He’s counting on your fear, Athena.”

That seemed to light a fire under her, her eyes dark and deadly. “I am not afraid of him. We will defeat him.” She jumped down the tunnel and stood there waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, she smiled wide. “Let us go!”

Tim mirrored her smile and he and Wil followed. They made their way back, their conversation slacking the closer they got. Tension welled up as they got within feet of the exit and saw multiple ghosts crowding around, staring at them. All talking at once.

“Norman told us what you were doing when we tried to look at the presents.”

“You got one for all of us, why?”

“Who cares about that now? What about his plan?”

“This is crazy!”

“Absolutely insane!”

“How can we help?”

Tim smiled. “She needs to get to the target no matter what.”

“Go with her,” Wilhelm said. “If it gets passed me, you’ll need to stop it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Tim nodded. “Alright, you ready?” he asked Athena stepping through the hole. The other ghosts disappeared into the house, leaving the three of them alone.

Rolling her shoulders back, Athena stepped through the wall and instantly convulsed onto the ground, writhing in pain. She screamed, the sound piercing through Tim’s ears. From the back, the large chest began to shake.

“I knew it!” he whispered, kneeling next to Athena to try and help her. “Athena… Can you become corporeal? I can drag you out of here.”

“It- It hurts!” she gasped.

Tim looked at Wil, not knowing what to do. Wilhelm immediately went into action, grabbing a large container of salt. He spread it around Tim and Athena, circling them. He began to draw lines, making a safe pathway to the stairs.

The chest shook violently, before its lid burst open and a large shadow spread all through the basement, blocking the lights. A dark, bloody night sky shone in that darkness. Tim stood, preparing for a fight, whatever it was.

“You really think you can reach her?” the harsh voice asked.

“It’s him,” Athena gasped. “He’s the monster!” She let out a strangled laugh. “Of course, he’s the monster!”

Tim understood. This was the sorcerer that had caused so much damage and pain. He’d locked himself away in the chest, waiting to be the one to finally get rid of Athena. Tim glared.

The dark laughter brought goosebumps to Tim’s skin. “You think you’re so brave, human? You think you understand my power?”

“You coward!” Athena yelled. “You’ve been hiding here the whole time!”

The shadow laughed. “You have not tried to win your love back for eighty-eight years! Who is the true coward? Hmm?”

Gritting her teeth, she tried to sit up, but struggled. Timothy, anger rising, could not stop the words bubbling out of him. “You! You’re the coward! Instead of moving on like a man when you were rejected! You cried and whined and forced them into your sick and twisted curse! Athena’s lived with this curse, waiting for the right time to act and she did the moment she found one!”

“You,” it said, turning into the form of a man, smoky tendrils whisping together to form the body. He walked over to Tim. “You, who long so much for acceptance, have sunk to ghosts and a sewer monster for company! You are too pathetic for humans-”

Tim snickered, cutting the sorcerer off.

The monster stared. “What?”

“You’re just wrong, that’s all.” Tim laughed, shaking his head. “I have plenty of friends, including those in this house. They were not given the choice to be what they are. You forced them and then you made yourself into the monster! You were so afraid that Janey might be happy, you guarded Athena. Instead of moving on you trapped yourself here like everyone else.” He rested his hand on his hips, cocking them to the side. “I bet that’s why you became a sorcerer, huh?”

Growing large, the monster loomed over Tim, screaming. “You know nothing of me!”

“Except that I’m right!” Tim smirked, pointing at the sorcerer. “Ha, I get it now! You were running away! You became a sorcerer to what? Prove yourself to a love who then rejected you again once you showed them your powers?” The shadow loomed, but not as exaggerated. Tim poked further. “No, not a love? Then, a parent?”

“Shut up!” it screamed, pushing against the barrier the salt created.

“Ah!” Tim tapped his finger to his chin. “Given all the evidence of your hatred to women, I’d have to say it was-”

Again, the monster rammed the barrier. It budged some, but not nearly enough. He screamed at Tim. “I did not become all powerful to be talked down to by some human!”

“Your mother?” The sorcerer raged. Tim ducked as he was pushed, the force of the monster’s anger finally breaching the barrier and knocking him through the air. Tim hit the brick wall, falling over the pile Wil had created from earlier.

“Tim!” Wilhelm yelled, running over. He stood in front of him, between him and the sorcerer. “You did good, now go!”

Nodding, Tim pulled himself from the pile, his body refusing to work with him. He ignored the furious screams from the beast and kept walking, hugging himself. He ran to the stairs, not daring to look back. If he looked back, he’d want to stop and help Wilhelm. So, he limped up the stairs, wondering if there’d always been so many. His body panged harshly, but he fought through it.

When he reached the top, he toppled onto the floor, pulling himself up the rest of the way. Athena, who was waiting, crouched down. “Tim, you’re hurt!”

Tim took a quick moment to wave her comment away before forcing himself to stand. “I’m fine, let’s… Get going…”

“You’re hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, staring at her. She began to turn solid, her form grabbing and helping Timothy up. He pointed in the direction of the stairs. They hobbled together, hurrying as fast as Tim could.

As they reached the stairs, a large, taloned hand shot through the floor. “No, you don’t!” it yelled.

“C’mon! The other stairs!” Timothy ordered loudly, pulling Athena away. He lead her through the hall, clipping a table that stuck out just enough in the thigh. “DAMMIT HUBERT!” Tim snarled, pulling Athena further down the hall. When they were halfway, he pulled Athena to a stop and backtracked silently, motioning for her to not speak. They reached the main stairs again. Tim, now limping with both legs, hurried up, hearing the beast scream in frustration.

Tumbling past the landing and into the hall, they met no resistance. Not until they got to the attic, where they skidded to a halt. A man lay on the floor in front of the door to the attic. His body was crumpled, bloody and tattered. They could just make out the carpet through him. Slowly, he lifted himself up to his, glaring at the two of them. His face was ripped apart, light shining through gruesome holes. “H-how… How have you gotten so far so… quickly!? I’m a class A sorcerer! I will not be beat by you!” he snarled.

“You were great once.” Athena said. “But all those years have withered you away, making you weak and even more arrogant!”

“I am the best!” He yelled, rushed at them.

They braced for impact, but the sorcerer was thrown back. Voices rang around them. All the other ghosts were charging him, tackling and kicking and punching. Olivia screamed to Tim. “Go! We got him!”

Tim pulled Athena towards the door.

“NO!” the sorcerer threw himself at them. Tim pulled out a handful of salt from his pocket and threw it at the beast. He sizzled and screamed, reeling backwards, hands covering his face in pain. The two ran up the stairs, throwing themselves against the door and into the attic. Quickly Tim slammed it shut.

Janey turned from the window to look at them. “Tim, what on Earth!?”

Athena, chest heaving, stared, taking in Janey’s form. From the side vent, Tim saw a brown sludge with a deep green glow pool across the floor. He stepped out of its way as it nestled in front of the door.

The two women stared at each other, unmoving.

Timothy could hear the fight through the door and cleared his throat. “Uhm… We kinda need to hurry…”

“For what? What’s going on?” Janey asked.

That made Athena frown. “Janey, you don’t know what’s going on? Don’t you know who I am?”

“Uhm,” she looked between her and Tim. “A… friend of Tim’s?”

Athena stumbled backward. “N-no… That’s not…” She looked at Tim.

The door was thrown open, the sorcerer lunging forward and grasping Athena’s Ankle. His face was barely recognizable and oozed a dark liquid. Tim took hold of her and pulled her away, but the beast had a head start and Athena was dragged back, closer to the monster.

The sludge pooled around the sorcerer and the monster grimaced in pain and disgust. Tim tugged, pulling Athena away from his reach. He yelled. “I will not lose!”

“Yes you will!” Janey said, stepping forward and glaring at him. “After all these years, you are going to lose! You made me forget Athena, now, you’re going to die remembering us!”

The sorcerer struggled, pulling on the doorframe to escape the goo, but it held him down. He blasted it, disintegrating half of it, but more just oozed around him.

Janey went to Athena, smiling wide. “Heya, love!”

Athena shook her head. “But… But you said you didn’t know who I was?” The sorcerer shot more flame at the goo, only to get caught in it again. The goo was a large, but it was losing mass quickly.

Giggling, Janey blushed. “I was lying… I was… getting you back for wearing that stupid suit.”

“What?” Tim demanded. “Janey! Now isn’t the time! You two have to touch in order-”

“I know, but I needed to make a point. We don’t need to hide anymore and you’re not my Athena when you’re pretending to be someone else.”

Athena gaped. “You’re still on about that?” Janey eyed her, cocking a hip and crossing her arms. Rolling her eyes, Athena sighed. Her outfit began to change into a casual pair of men’s pants. She wore a woman’s blouse that fit her loosely, while her shoes remained the same. Her hair was no longer slicked back and fell loose around her face. “There.”

“There she is!” Janey smiled wide, her eyes twinkling.

The sorcerer burned more goo up, freeing himself some. He began to pull himself out, snarling at them.

Janey closed the space between her and Athena, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her. Athena’s hands rested on Janey’s waist, pulling her close.

The sorcerer screamed, convulsing and clawing at his face. Light began to crack through him, pulling him apart until he burst, shattering into small flakes that ignited the goo, dissolving it in the heat.

“No!” Tim yelled, lurching forward.

“Let it melt. We can’t let him reside in the sludge.”

Tim glared at Athena and hugged himself, letting the creature burn. He looked away as the last bits evaporated. He wiped a tear from his blurred eyes and saw a bit of sludge stuck to the vent. He scooped it up with his finger, smiling. “There’s still some here, do you think?”

Janey nodded. “That should be fine.”

Smiling, Tim found a small, empty container and plopped it in. It would be okay for the moment until Tim got it some water. He excused himself to check on the others. He was worried about Wilhelm. The two didn’t hear him, so entwined with their reunion.

Coming out of the stairway, Tim gasped. All seven ghosts were sprawled all over the hallway. Tim ran to the railing, gasping as some had been thrown over, one was even caught in the chandelier. They were limp and broken and even more see-through than normal. He covered his mouth. “You guys are hurt!”

“We’re ghosts, we just need to rest, we’ll be back to normal,” Olivia.

Biting his lip, Tim nodded, bouncing on his feet.

She smirked. “Go see your boy.”

Tim ran as fast as he could down the stairs, his body ached and yelled at him to take it easy, but he just couldn’t. He remembered to stop by the kitchen to pour a tablespoon amount of water in the container with the goo. He left it on the counter and made hs way to the basement, his body once more screeching at him.

“Wil?” he called, his voice cracking. He couldn’t see him immediately and his heart hit his throat. His vision blurred and he had to wipe them several times in order to see. “Wil!?”

There was a groan and Tim went for it. In the back of the basement, Wilhelm sat against a wall, covered in dust, bleeding and tangled in furniture pieces. Tim ran for him, stumbling when his leg buckled. He hit the ground hard.

“Tim!” Wilhelm scooted over to him, pulling him onto his lap. “Tim?” Wilhelm asked, looking him over.

Tim leaned on Wil’s shoulder, his head tucked under the man’s chin. “If I say I’m too hurt to move, can we just stay here?”

Wilhelm held him tight. “How hurt are you?”

“Probably not as hurt as you are.”

Chuckling, Wil moved to look at Tim, pulling his cheek down to look into his eye. “I ain’t that hurt, I’m used to getting thrown. You’re the one who hit the brick wall.”

Tim laughed, coughing. He winced.

“Yeah, okay, we’re getting up, you need a hospital.”

He refused to move. Now that his body had run out of adrenaline, it hurt like hell and it was too hard to think. But Wilhelm lifted him easily, cradling him in his arms. Tim was limp, but as they ascended the stairs, he couldn’t help the smile on his lips.

“What?”

“You’re just really strong.”

“Well, you don’t have a concussion.”

Tim laughed.

.:::::.

The doctors were horrified at Tim’s condition, not to mention Wil’s. He was definitely not as worse as Tim. The sorcerer hadn’t rammed him with fury like he had Tim. And the story about Tim only falling on the brick pile was barely received. They took Tim away and Wil paced the waiting room until they forced him to get looked at too. Then they left him alone for too long.

Finally, they came over to him. “Are you family?” they asked.

“Yes.” He didn’t know why he said it. Sure, he meant to lie, but for some reason, he didn’t feel like it was a lie, not with Timothy.

She eyed him and then shrugged. “You can see him now, he’s sleeping, but you can stay there as long as you like.”

Wil nodded and followed her. Tim lay in a bed, his eyes closed, sleeping. Wil pulled a chair up next to him and sat down, taking a his hand in his. He kissed it. “I’m so sorry, Tim. I didn’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t know I didn’t want you to get hurt until you were.”

Tim laughed, his lips widening. “You’re silly.”

Wil looked up.

Those wonderful lips smiled at him, Tim’s heavy lids fluttering open to look at Wil.

Wilhelm leaned in, smiling wide. “How are you feeling?”

“Great! They gave me…” Tim indicated the medication button. He giggled. “We did it, Wil! We saved the world!” Timothy giggled quietly. “I know I’m over exaggerating, but it’s fun!”

Wilhelm laughed. “I think I love you.”

Eyes widening, Tim’s smile was a little manic. “Wow! That’s just! I was thinking the same thing! I was thinking that, wow, you’re really strong and I need those muscles in my life, but of course, you’re great too, but man! Have you seen them? I just…” Timothy looked up at the ceiling. “I just love everything about you!” He giggled. “And you of course! I love everything about you and you! And I’m just sitting here, wondering how I can get you to stay in my life and my house, like, ya know, wake up with you everyday?”

Wilhelm laughed. “We can figure it out when you’re out and not drugged up.”

“Oh, hey! How’s everyone else?”

“I’ll stop by the house when you’re napping.”

“Okay, I left Goobriel on the counter next to the sink. Don’t feed him more than a tablepoon of water until we figure out what to really do with him, he loves water and I don’t need him in my pipes anymore.”

“Goobriel?” Wil asked, laughing.

“Yeah! I finally thought of a name for him! I was thinking Sludgington is way too obvious, and we can call Goobriel, Goob for short!”

Laughing heartily, Wilhelm nodded. “I like it. I’ll make sure to check up on him.”

.:::::.

Tim was brought home on Christmas day late in the morning. He sighed heavily as Wilhelm drove him home.

“What is it?” he asked, taking a hold of Tim’s hand.

“I never got to finish wrapping those presents…” Tim sighed heavily. “Oh well, I mean, the curse is broken, they’ve probably moved on…”

Wilhelm was silent. He didn’t say anything as they parked and he went around to Tim’s side and gently picked him up, holding him in his arms again.

“W-Wil,” Tim flushed. “I can walk myself.”

“Yeah,” Wil smirked. “But then you couldn’t adore my muscles. I know how much you love them.” He smiled wickedly.

Timothy blushed horribly, his hand resting on the man’s chest.

Wil kissed Tim’s head. “Let’s go.” He went into the house, dropping Tim’s bag in the hallway and going through the kitchen so Tim could see Goobriel. In his terrarium, Goobriel wiggled, happy and healthy. Wilhelm continued, walking him into the living room where Timothy gasped.

The Christmas tree sparkled with decorations and lights. Pristine and perfectly wrapped presents sat under the tree. All around the living room, ghosts stood, smiling at Tim.

“What!?” Tim’s eyes misted. “I thought… I thought you would all… move on… once the curse was broken!”

Janey smiled. “We can, but we all have unfinished business.”

“Yeah,” Norman said. “We can’t just go to the afterlife without our Christmas presents!”

“Well, then you can never open them!” Tim laughed, eyes overflowing with tears.

Wilhelm sat him in a cushioned chair.

They smiled at him. Athena stepped forward. “We wanted to thank you, Timothy. You have always saw us as more than monsters and you kept your word and you set us free.” She pulled Janey to her. “You brought me back to my Janey and I can never thank you enough.”

Timothy smiled. “I’m just happy everyone’s safe now!”

“Thanks to you!”

Wilhelm stood behind Tim. He moved and collected all the presents and handed the first one to Tim. “Janey wrapped them.”

“Except for mine, of course, Norman wrapped that one.”

“It might be a little crooked.”

Timothy smiled. “I’m sure it’s going to be perfect!”

The ghost the present belonged to stepped forward and Tim handed it to them. It was an ornament. He’d gotten all of them an ornament, each corresponding with the year they’d died. The ghost looked at him, shocked.

“I wanted to replace the bad day with something good… With a nice memory…” Timothy sniffled. “They all remind me of you in some way…”

The ghost smiled and thanked Timothy. They turned and went to the tree, hanging it up. They turned around and smiled before fading into nothing. Timothy’s lips quivered. Hubert stepped forward then, blushing. “I…”

Tim smirked. “You finally got me, I have quite the bruise, you mischievous thing, you.” He handed an embarrassed, yet pleased Hubert his gift. It was a cat. “You’re sweet, but mischievous, just like a cat.”

Hubert flushed, his smile widening. “Thank you, Tim, for everything.” Hubert placed the cat on the side of the tre, smiling at if as he faded away.

One by one, Wil handed Tim a wrapped box and one by one, a ghost opened them, until only Janey, Athena’s, and Goobriel’s were left. Timothy, cheeks stained with tears, gave Athena’s to her.

She unwrapped it and held the police badge in her pale hand. She quirked a brow.

“You were a part of the police department before you died. You’re always protecting and fighting for those you love.”

She smiled. “This isn’t an ornament. This is an actual badge that you poked a hole in.”

Tim smiled. “It knew when to change in its environment.”

Athena smirked. “Yeah, okay.” She hung her ornament up and waited for Janey.

Janey unwrapped hers and gasped. It was an ornate glass star. She smiled, tears falling down her cheeks. She bent down and hugged Timothy. “I love it.”

“You always made my day brighter. I think you made everyone’s brighter.” Tim hugged her close. “Thank you for giving me a chance to be your friend.”

“Thank you for being my friend!” She kissed his cheek, leaving a cold impression. She hung her ornament and stood next to Athena, taking her hand in hers. “Thank you Timothy!” She blew him a kiss as the two disappeared.

The living room was silent. Tim stared all around before his hand covered his mouth and he began to cry. Wilhelm picked him up and set him in his lap and held Tim until they both fell asleep.

When Tim woke up, his eyes were dry and tired. He moaned and curled deeper into Wilhelm. Wil hugged him close. “How are you feeling?”

Tim was silent for a long while. “Empty…” he sniffled. “But I’ll be okay, we still have Goobriel.”

“Yeah, he hasn’t seen his present yet.”

Tim sat up, smiling a little. “He hasn’t, has he!”

“I’ll go collect him.”

Still sore, Tim bent over to pick up the present from the floor. When he sat back down, Wil was back with Goobriel in the small terrarium. It wiggled, vibrating excitedly at Tim. Tim showed him the present. “I got you this for Christmas!” He began to unwrap it and showed the round glass ornament with liquid and sparkles in it. Tim smiled wide. “See? It wiggles like you!” He moved it around, showing the moving liquid. Goobriel wiggled along with it.

Tim smiled wider, his heart warming. He stood and put the ornament on the tree with the other ten. He took a step back and looked at the glowing tree, brighter with the lowering sun. He felt his heart swell, remembering all the time he’d spent with his friends. They would always be there in his heart and in the wood and soul of this house. He would never forget them and he would always cherish them.

He went to Goobriel and stuck a finger in the tank and pet its head. “Merry Christmas, Goob!” It wrapped around Tim’s finger lovingly. Tim smiled at Wil. “Merry Christmas, Wil.”

“Merry Christmas, Tim.” Wilhelm leaved over to kiss him.

Tim looked at the tree and all the ornaments. “Merry Christmas everyone.”

#Borderlands #Janey Springs #Athena the Gladiator #Jathena #timothy lawrence #wilhelm the enforcer #sfw #holiday theme #fic #timhelm #submission

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askmicrowaveayem · 7 years ago

Text

MAYEM: Fear & Loathing - Pt.7

[Previous]

[Archive] [Cast]

“Good.” Gaster smiled back at him and wished that he could help somehow, Papyrus that is. He just had to tell himself that this was good too, helping with the core and all.

The two Pap’s were so different it was crazy to ever think the little one would, maybe, somehow, grow up to be just like his. How could that even happen? Maybe it wouldn’t. It wasn’t like this Gaster had grown up to be completely like him.

He was way too damn nice.

It was a little funny how much the other Gaster denied his niceness, to the point where he fully ignored it existed at all. Ah well. Self-loathing did funny things to a skeleton.

Gaster nodded. “He’s definitely improving. Hopefully when things calm down, it’ll be even better, but he’s much better than he was. I was worried he was starting to backslide when he stopped talking again, so… your Papyrus showed up right in time.”

“Maybe there’s a reason for everything.” Gaster said as he pulled out his notepad and flipped to the page with his suggestions on it. “But that would mean there’s a thing such as fate, and I don’t believe in that nonsense.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Gaster said, heaving out a sigh of relief, “I was worried you were about to start talking about destinies and shit.”

“Fuck that shit.” Gaster cursed, frowning but not looking angry at his twin. Perhaps he was recalling something in his past that made him a little bitter about the whole idea.

“You met someone who was really hardcore about that, huh?” he asked, figuring venting might help.

Gaster opened and closed his mouth a few times. He paused and actually looked around for a moment, as though he expected someone to leap out right from time and space to give him a slap.

“Yeah, actually. Their name was Seer. Or that’s what we called them.”

“‘Them’ as in a group, or one extremely annoying individual?” Gaster asked, listening interestedly.

“One extremely annoying individual. I think. Maybe there’s more of them. I don’t know.” Gaster flung his hands up, as if thinking about it was enough to drive him insane. “They worked as our river person after the war but… ugh.” He shoved his notepad back into himself much more forcefully than he intended.

“During the war they worked was, obviously, the seer for the king. They would predict the outcome of battles and all that nonsense but it was always just vague enough that you couldn’t really tell whether or not they were actually seeing the future or fate or whatever the fuck.” He flung his hands up and began to gesture along with his speech.

“Drove me fucking insane. They hung on their every word. I mean, I do owe them a lot, but… fuck.”

Gaster winced a bit, watching the notepad disappear. He decided not to comment on the ‘owing them a lot’ part, since knowing you owed a lot to someone who you didn’t trust or even like was… never the most fun thing to talk about. But still. “Wow. That, um. Yeah, that sounds awful to listen to all the time.”

“I had to travel with them at one point. Longest weeks of my life.” He sighed, recalling the memory. “They’re… a nice monster, but… jeeze. Everything they do goes against what I believe in.”

There was a pause.

“Somehow they keep finding me too, which is strange. It’s gotta be some sort of magic. That’s the only way I can explain it. A magic very specific to that particular monster. Whatever that monster happens to be.”

“You never saw a monster quite like them?” Gaster asked, curious about that remark in particular.

“I… yeah…” Gaster went deep into thought, a finger tapping his chin. “Sort of like an elemental but… I don’t think they were. It was very disorienting to look at. Like their appearance constantly changed every time you looked away.”

“Maybe cloaking magic? But I’ve never heard of that before.”

Gaster blinked at the description. “That’s… odd, definitely. ...are shapeshifters real in your world, I guess?”

“I’ve certainly never heard of them. Are they here?” He asked, looking up at his double.

Gaster shook his head. “They’re children’s stories. Monsters that can change their shape at will, to… basically anything.”

“That would make the most sense, but…” Gaster just shrugged, “I’ve honestly never heard of it and never met a monster with the same ability. Seer was… very strange.”

“... Which says a lot coming from me, I think.” He chuckled.

After a moment, Gaster grinned. “Maybe you had an early dimensional traveler on your hands.”

Gaster’s eye sockets widened, then narrowed. “Oh that bastard. If they were I will be so pissed.”

Gaster laughed. “Maybe you’ll find out on your trip? Maybe you’ll run into a younger version of them or something. Then you can interrogate them by pretending you know their future. It’ll be fun for the whole family. Fake-out the mystic.”

The doctor’s grin widened at the thought, then fell again as he looked to his counterpart. “Do any of your river people say ‘tra-la-la’ before every other sentence?”

Gaster looked blankly at his counterpart. “....do riverpeople talk?”

He stared at his double for a long while before mumbling ‘shit’ under his breath. “There goes that idea I guess. I was hoping they would be here somehow.”

“Sorry,” Gaster said, “have you asked around in other dimensions about the riverpeople?”

“Nah. I didn’t think of it until you said something. I will next time we jump and I find one.” Gaster shrugged, “Knowing Seer they’ll give me some vague hint or say nothing at all.”

--*****

Gaster nodded. “Still, it’s as good a plan as any.”

He sighed and looked at the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Gaster looked up at the clock at the wall, checking the time. “...it’s getting towards the end of my shift. Want to cut out early and head back to see the boys?”

“Yeah, might as well. I feel we got a lot done today, despite how much time we spent being idiots.” He grinned at his double. “I’ll let you get a headstart. I don’t wanna walk into the apartment before you get there.”

“You mean we spent time not being idiots?” he asked, grinning back. “All right. I’ll meet you there.”

He took a moment to finish backing up before heading out, making sure his double was out of the line of sight of the door before he went.

He jumped a bit when he opened the door and realized there was another monster standing outside it.

They were a waterfall monster, clearly; a sort of fishman with a forked tongue and bright blue skin.

“Hey there, Wingdingss,” they said. “Who you talkin’ to in there?”

“Myself,” Gaster said, face impassive. He pushed by the fish monster, shouldering his way into the hall and locking the door closed behind himself. “Sorry if I bothered you.”

“Ssssee, I thought that at first, but then I remembered you talk to yoursself with your handss,” the fish monster said, following along behind Gaster as he tried to walk down the hall. “And it actually ssounded like a conversation. Sso…. just out of friendly curiosssity I thought I’d ask.”

“I think you’ve imagined things.”

He watched his double stop at the door and instantly tense up, or tensed as much as goo could. His flesh rippled and he bit back the itch of magic at his fingertips, recalling what his twin had said about there being… disagreements in the lab.

Gaster didn’t move until the door was fully closed, quickly forming a pointed bone in his hand and silently walking to stand behind the door as he listened in on the conversation. He moved along the side of the room as the conversation moved, his other hand waving to open up a prompt and keep as much of an eye on what was happening as he could through the wall.

“Sso rude,” the fish monster said, laughing a bit. They seemed fairly carefree as they spoke, but Gaster still didn’t let his guard down, doing his best to appear calm as the other walked behind him. He fought the overwhelming urge to protect his back. “Are you ssure you’re not hiding a third exxperiment in there? Needed one more sspecimen to add to your collection?”

It took all he had to not summon a bone and skewer the fish right there in the hallway.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t afford to be the bad guy here.

Sans and Papyrus couldn’t afford for him to be the bad guy.

So he laughed instead. A dead sort of chuckle compared to his real one, but convincing enough. “That’s a nice thought. But no. I think I have enough. Thank you. I should be leaving, now, my shift’s ended. You know how upset they get when we don’t go sleep when we’re supposed to.”

The fish made a face, and Gaster kept walking, trying to outpace them.

Hohohohohoooo boy. Gaster felt his arm shake, the grip on his weapon tightening. This bastard. This bastard.

His eyes went blank as they walked further than the room went and he stopped, standing in the corner and letting his eyes watch his window. He could see the distance each of them was, which hopefully was enough.

Hopefully the fish would have enough sense to let him be.

The fish apparently didn’t like being deflected like that. He stopped following Gaster as closely, but still called out after him, “Whatever you’re doing with thossse weaponsss, you may’ve fooled Asssgore, but we won’t let you get away witth it!”

Gaster waved behind himself, calling, “Yeah, have a good day!” before rounding the corner and breaking into a much quicker walk, reaching the elevator and getting up to the top level and outside the lab as quickly as he could.

Gaster could feel his body start to boil with rage. Figuratively at least.

The window vanished with a wave of his hand and he just… stood there. A part of him, a very large part of him wanted that fish to come back and try to unlock the door.

Come on in.

See what’s inside.

You know you want to.

You know you want this fucking B O͞ ͘N̷ E͢ ͘ ̨S͢ H O V̵ ̸E D ͏ ̡T ̕H R̀ ́O ̡U G H ̡Y͜ ̀O ҉U͏ R̢ ̕Ȩ Y̧ E̢ ̸B A̴ L͟ ̨L.͜

He would probably be even later than he intended getting back to the apartment and he would probably wait an unreasonably long time inside the room, hoping one of those pieces of shit that called themselves a monster would try to come inside and see what exactly his double had been talking to.

The doorknob rattled.

The fish monster had come back.

He muttered under his breath, ‘fucking ssskeleton and hiss lockss,’ twisting the knob one more time.

Gaster stood on the opposite side of the door, behind where it would swing open. He held breath he no longer needed and quickly diffused his magic and forced himself to let go of his form as much as he could.

He didn’t want to look like his double. He didn’t want to get him into more trouble than he probably already would.

But he was going to scare this little asshole straight if he could.

After a third rattle, the door lock still held, and the fish monster sighed loudly on the other side.

They punched the door--or, it sounded like they did. But the door didn’t budge, and not enough force had been applied for it to. With all the scrutiny going through the lab at the moment, it’d take an idiot to break down the most high profile scientist’s door, much less mess with whatever it was he was experimenting on.

Maybe they’d find an idiot willing to take the fall?

Not in the lab, though.

Unfortunately.

Making another disgusted sound, the fish monster turned and headed towards the break room, burbling angrily.

That skeleton stole his chance to see the stars. To know the ocean.

Fuck it. It wasn’t like whoever was locked in that room was going anywhere anytime soon.

Gaster waited. He waited even after the monster had gone. He waited, holding himself perfectly still, than any sane person would.

Then, suddenly, he relaxed a little. The anger started to die down. He looked down at himself.

… He really was a freak, wasn’t he?

A horrible, murderous freak.

The doctor sighed and pulled himself together again, this time easier than all the previous times now that he wasn’t drained of energy. He slumped against the wall and sat down.

That had been stupid. He was so stupid.

Gaster pressed the palms of his hands to his skull right above his eyes. If he had gone through with that his doppelganger would have had to deal with so much more shit and it would have all been his fault. He was no good at this. He didn’t know delegation or how to delicately tiptoe around something so sensitive a subject as this.

But his double did. He was doing exactly what he needed to do.

Gaster groaned at himself and pulled his legs to his chest, hugging them.

He needed to calm down before teleporting back home.

It was a while later that a voice buzzed through the room.

Coming from one of those communication devices he’d handed out was the other Gaster’s voice.

“....hey. Are you coming back?”

His double sounded tired, concerned, but otherwise fine.

Gaster flinched at the sudden voice and reached up to press the button through his head.

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward pause before he repeated himself. “Yeah. Just… wanted to calm down a little beforehand. I’m coming.”

He inhaled sharply and stood up.

“Are things okay?” his double didn’t sound soothed at the promise at all. “The others can’t hear right now. I’m in the hallway.”

Gaster glanced at the door he stood beside before walking away from it and speaking quieter. “That monster came back to the door and tried to open it. I was just… being dumb.”

He hoped that was enough for his double to infer that he wanted to kill the guy, or at least scare the shit ouf of him.

There was a sharp intake of breath over the receiver. His double also spoke more quietly. “...Gaster… what did you do?”

He’d definitely inferred it well enough.

He just needed to know if his double had actually gone through with it.

“... Nothing. I didn’t do anything.” He said, his voice sounding ashamed of himself.

“I’m sorry.”

Even though he hadn’t actually done anything he still felt compelled to apologise for nearly doing something really idiotic.

Gaster let out a breath of relief. “It’s fine. You didn’t do it, so things are fine. And we--we would’ve figured something out if you had.”

Living with Papyrus had greatly increased his capacity to talk about violence and death without sounding condescending rather than comforting.

“But since it didn’t happen, it’s not anything we need to worry about. You’re all right, though? Feeling okay?”

Gaster closed his eyes and pressed a knuckle against his forehead, tapping it there a few times as he listened to his double.

At his question he let out a tiny, bitter laugh. “Okay enough. I’m the opposite of how I felt initially meeting Papyrus, so… things should be alright.”

He made no comment about it being alright for him, but he didn’t find that very important. The kids came first.

“But how are you?” Gaster asked, taking the hint and violently ignoring it. “You sound like shit.”

Gaster’s arm dropped from his head to hang by his side. You could hear the annoyance that was across his face through the receiver. “Thanks.”

He tried to laugh it off, a sort of dry chuckle not unlike the one his double had used out in the hallway. “I feel like a piece of shit.”

He wanted to laugh again and to say that he was a horrible person, but stopped himself.

“Because you wanted to kill them?”

There was a long pause before a very tired, very drained, almost completely different sounding voice came from the other end.

“... Yeah.”

“And did you kill them?”

It was the tone of voice of someone who knew the answer, but was going to make you answer anyway.

There was another pause before a completely different tone came through. “No mom, jeeze!”

Things were getting too tense. Too whiney. Too emotional. He switched to humor just like he always did to try and cloak it all.

“Then good fucking job, Junior!” Gaster said, following along with the humor without ever losing the intensity of his voice. “You’ve been conditioned to kill shit! You fought that conditioning and didn’t kill shit when you had the chance! That’s not something to be upset about, that means you did a good. Excellent job. Now get your goopy ass over here and get a hug from your sons. Because you did something. Remember that talk we had about assholes who believe in fate? Well, you made a conscious decision to say ‘fuck that’ and you did a thing, and that thing was not doing shit. Except making me talk for way too fucking long, my throat is on fire, holy fuck. Has my point gotten across, yet, or do I have to tell you I was tempted to kill the fucker too, but I didn’t, because I’ve conditioned myself my whole life to deal with things like that?”

Through his double’s entire monologue Gaster didn’t say a thing. He waited until he was finished before teleporting right in front of him, hand dropping from the side of his head with a dopey, toothless grin on his face.

“Does this mean we can get nice cream for being good?”

Gaster punched him in his goop shoulder. “Only if you bring enough to share.”

The doctor mouthed a ‘yes’ and did a little fistpump in the air.

Gaster shook his head. “You well enough to go inside?”

“Yeah I’m good.” He smiled, genuinely this time.

Gaster nodded, “Good.”

He opened the door and stepped inside, calling, “Hey, Papyrus! Come give your dad a hug! He’s been dumb about his feelings again.”

Then he stepped inside and started planning out the logistics of buying and transporting enough nice cream for this hell family.

Papyrus looked up from his seat on the couch. “AGAIN!? WHAT NOW?” He set down the tablet he had been messing with.

“Oh god.” Gaster palmed his face as he closed the door behind him.

“Upset about dumb thoughts when he didn’t actually do anything dumb,” Gaster said. “He’s just upset he had them at all. Don’t nag him too much. Also, we’re apparently getting nice cream.”

Papyrus scoffed and stood up, his brother’s head flopping back into the couch. “yay nice cream.” He mumbled, giving a thumbs up from his position still sprawled over it.

“Papy please have mercy.” Gaster mumbled, looking incredibly embarrassed despite being unable to blush. His son had none of it, wrapping his big arms around his father and squeezing him tight.

“YOU’RE A VERY SILLY MAN SOMETIMES.” He said, patting his father on the head as he hugged him.

“I know.”

“YOU’RE NOT A BAD MAN.”

Gaster didn’t reply, which only made Papyrus hug him tighter. “SAY IT WITH ME.”

The doctor mumbled out something under his breath and his son glared. “THAT WAS TERRIBLE.”

This looked like it had happened a couple of times before at least. Perhaps this was why he had been so good at convincing his smaller self that he wasn’t a bad person; he had to do it with his father occasionally as well.

Gaster had to look away and cover his mouth to hide his grin as he watched Papyrus and Gaster.

That Papyrus was really something.

...and so was the other Gaster’s self-loathing.

Gaster’s own Papyrus had been stewing in nerves and sadness ever since they’d met, but a night with Papyrus as physical evidence and a long conversation had given him enough hope to really try for a better, kinder future. The face that this older Papyrus seemed to give the same sort of treatment to his father without the same sort of effect… said a lot.

Or maybe it meant the other Gaster wasn’t as open about his issues as the younger Papyrus was.

Or maybe seeing his supposedly ‘better’ twin didn’t give him the same hope as the Papyru had. Maybe it was an age thing; he felt he could never go back.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything a few gallons of Nice Cream couldn’t help soothe.

He hoped that bunny was going to be okay once Gaster placed the order.

Gaster continued to groan and mumble, Papyrus even going so far as to give him a shake in his arms. “COME ON NOW.”

“holy cow dad just say it.” Sans said, laughing as he watched from the couch.

“FfffI’m not bad! Jesus let me go.” Gaster finally said, his son obliging.

“NICE JOB.” Papyrus pat his father on the head as though he were a child. Maybe he was. An overgrown child thousands of years old who threw temper tantrums.

Gaster was unsure how to look, bridging somewhere between wanting to melt away into the floorboards and screaming.

Gaster snorted, trying hard not to laugh. “All right. Okay. I’m going to get the nice cream. All of you have to behave and not wreck my apartment until I get back. Papyrus is in charge.”

He headed over to the couch and pulled a wadded envelope out from between the cushions before pulling on the only coat he had which wasn’t a labcoat and aiming for the door again.

His double opened his mouth in shock. His SON was in charge over him? The NERVE.

Papyrus started to flex his nonexistent muscles.

Gaster glared at him.

Sans just laughed.

Gaster laughed at the expression on his twin’s face.

He left quickly, hoping to avoid whatever rath might’ve been triggered by that stunt.

Even if Papyrus was definitely the best of any of them to leave in charge of the house.

Things were going to be okay.

While his double was gone, Gaster groaned and moved to flop down onto the couch with Sans. “I can’t believe this. My own son outranks me.”

“IT’S BECAUSE I’M SO GREAT!” Papyrus grinned and then moved to the door to the bedroom he knew the two boys to be resting inside. He gently knocked on the door.

“heya,” Sans’s voice came from inside at the knock, indicating they were both awake and it was probably okay to open the door.

Papyrus opened it slowly and peeked inside, smiling. “YOUR DAD HAS GONE TO GET US NICE CREAM! DO YOU WANT TO COME OUT OR WAIT UNTIL HE’S BACK?”

Gaster winced and made grabbing gestures at Papyrus before signing ‘Not dad! Not dad!’

Oh well.

Sans and Papyrus glanced at each other from where they were tangled on the bed, before Sans glanced back at their elder and said, “...you mean your dad?”

Papyrus probably just misspoke.

Papyrus suddenly looked nervous, eye sockets bouncing between the door and what he could make out his father singing from the corner of his eyes. “ER, NO, I MEANT YOUR… GASTER. IT’S HARD TO KEEP TRACK OF WHO’S WHO! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

He hated lying so much.

Sans… wasn’t really sure why he felt like Papyrus was lying, even when what he was saying was definitely probably right? Whatever. He let it go. Maybe Papyrus was just awkward sometimes. “okay, cool. let us know when he gets here? i dunno if paps has ever had nice cream before….?”

He glanced over at his brother, who shrugged.

“oh well. still needs more nice cream, either way.”

Papyrus nodded and slowly backed out the door, closing it gently behind him. He then spun around and stared at his father, sweating.

Gaster sighed and shrugged.

Sans and Papyrus remained in their bredroom.

“well that was weird,” Sans said. Papyrus nodded.

About half an hour later, the doorknob glowed indigo and the door swung open.

“All right, now we’re going to test how much nicecream a skeleton can ingest, I guess,” Gaster said, levitating several buckets of nicecream onto the table.

“Holy crap.” Gaster said, watching as the buckets of nice cream were set on the table. “I’m surprised you actually took that joke to heart.” He laughed.

Papyrus stood and walked to the bedroom door again, knocking before peeking inside. “YOUR GASTER IS BACK WITH THE NICE CREAM.”

“Fuck you, jokes are serious business,” Gaster said with an extremely straight face. “And as it is, I’m also going to use the goodwill generated from this to get you all to let me pass out for a while, because I need to go hide my head for a while after these last few days.”

A few minutes later, Sans and Papyrus emerged from their room, ready for a massive amount of sugar.

“Giving kids nice cream and then expecting them to be quiet enough for you to sleep? You’re nuts.” Gaster said, then laughed. “But sure. Go pass out. We can watch the kiddos.”

“That’s what I was banking on,” Gaster said, grinning back. As opposite as they were, the moments when he and his twin really got each other were exceptionally worth it. He got some bowls and plates--the few he had--and began scooping them out.

Honestly, he hadn’t funny believed the joke or taken it seriously at all, until the other Gaster had done a fist pump and for a moment looked genuinely like he’d have liked nice cream.

And, well. Maybe everyone needed a pick-me-up every now and then.

He served a handful of bowls of nice cream and then delegated the elder Papyrus to be in charge of refills.

Papyrus gave a salute and handed a bowl to his brother, then offered one to his father, who looked at it oddly.

“Pap I don’t need to eat.”

“YOU DON’T NEED TO. BUT YOU SHOULD.” He thrust the bowl at his father until he took it. “SANS TOLD ME WE USE TO EAT THIS TOGETHER, RIGHT?”

Gaster smiled a little, “Yeah we did. Thanks Pap.”

While they served icecream, Gaster went to find his own corner to curl up in and relax on. It’d been a long two days.

Meanwhile, mid bite of icecream, the younger Papyrus leaned over and attempted to whisper “DO YOU THINK HE HAS A TV IN HIS GOOP?” to his Sans.

He succeeded more than his elder version would have. Sans just snorted and turned to their caretaker’s twin. “goopster, paps has a question for ya.”

Papyrus made a startled noise and tried to wave his brother off.

“Myeah?” Gaster said as he spooned nice cream into his mouth.

He seemed to be warming up to the name ‘goopster’.

“paps wants to know if you’ve got anything we can watch a movie on,” Sans said, grinning up at his… uncle goopster, he decided. Uncle Goopster.

“Sure.” Gaster said, pulling the tablet out of his chest before getting up and walking over to the table where everyone was sitting. He had been keeping his distance for the little Papyrus’ sake until now.

“I really only have home movies on this thing though. I don’t think you guys have invented the Undernet yet, have you?”

Sans shook his head, eating more icecream. “so we can’t get otehr stuff on it?”

Papyrus didn’t seem nearly as upset this time as the other Gaster approached. He seemed to be getting a bit more used to his presence. Still, showing the home movies to him was probably not the best idea, since they’d either involve the lab or a young Papyrus being happy, and.. even if he didn’t get jealous, it might upset him.

“Not without being connected to the net I’m afraid. I don’t have anything like that on mine. Not a big movie fan. What about you two? You have your phones and stuff on you, right?” Gaster looked to his two boys.

Sans pulled out a cellphone from his pocket and Papyrus stood to go fetch the other tablet they brought with them.

“i’ve got some dumb videos saved.”

“I HAVE A FEW MOVIES I THINK.” Papyrus sat back down and began to tap at the screen. “WHAT KIND OF MOVIES DO YOU LIKE?”

Even if they did end up watching home movies, neither of them would have to worry about having to watch their alternate selves being happy at the same age. Those videos had long since been lost in the other timeline. Perhaps that was why he took so many these days, he didn’t have the old ones to look back to.

“all of them,” Sans said, very seriously. Then, a moment later, he amended, “what sort do you have?”

Papyrus also leaned in, interested and wanting to see a bit more.

Their Gaster was more of a photography person.

“LET’S SEE…” Papyrus said, leaning a bit and angling the screen so the two could better see the movies he had to choose from. Most of them were rather light-hearted children’s movies or action. There were a few comedies and even a horror flick or two on it as well, to which the skeleton frowned and looked over at Gaster. “YOU PUT YOUR SCARY MOVIES ON HERE.”

The doctor just shrugged, “I watch ‘em when you two are asleep and I don’t feel like working.”

“scary movies?” Sans asked, leaning forward and poking at one of the images on the screen.

The cover of ‘Alien’ popped up, which Papyrus quickly swiped away. “OH NO, NO SCARY MOVIES.”

“Yeah I’m not gonna be responsible for giving you two nightmares.” Gaster said as he spooned more nice cream into his mouth.

“we won’t get nightmares,” Sans said, “probably,” eating another scoop of icecream.

Papyrus, on the other hand, was looking pretty interestedly at one of the children’s movies that had appeared on the screen briefly.

Papyrus gave his little older brother a stare that screamed ‘yeah sure’, but he did manage to catch the glimpse of his twin’s and swiped back a few. “DID YOU SEE ONE YOU LIKED?”

Sans was unintimidated by the stare.

He could definitely handle anything the movies threw at him.

Papyrus nodded, ducking his head a bit and pointing at one of the ones as Papyrus swiped past them. It was brightly colored and appeared to focus on a bushy-tailed animated squirrel.

It looked pretty cute.

“OH, GOOD CHOICE!” Papyrus smiled and tapped a few buttons before the movie began to play. He pushed it around so the two could watch it. They couldn’t see the screen from that angle, but that was alright. All of them knew what was happening by the sounds emitted from it.

Papyrus was enthralled.

The bright colors, cheerful sounds, and easy conversation of the movie were so different from what he was used to, hidden away in the depths of the capital with his two family members, who meant well, but didn’t exactly break into choreographed song-and-dance to talk about their feelings.

He kind of thought the world would be a better place if that happened more often. People singing about their feelings. And also dancing. It would be really cool if everyone danced??

And the sounds were all mixed together well so that he never got overwhelmed with them???

Movies were excellent he decided.

Then they came to the part with the owl.

And Sans shrieked and hid behind him.

Papyrus didn’t think it was all that scary, but…. he patted Sans’ skull anyway.

So much for not getting nightmares.

“ride it out, tough guy.” Sans commented with a grin, having already started to help himself to a second serving of nice cream. Papyrus and Gaster had decided one bowl was enough for them.

‘Goopster’ wasn’t looking at them, his head leaned onto his palm as he just listened to the movie.

But he was smiling.

Sans did survive watching the ‘scary’ part of the movie, and was growing very tired by the end. Papyrus had gotten a chance to rest during the day, but Sans had been up for most of it. He was yawning by the end, despite having consumed two bowls of icecream, like his elder.

Papyrus, still taking the role of ‘in-charge’ very seriously, posed the two youngsters a question once the credits began to roll. “I THINK IT’S PROBABLY GETTING LATE. DO YOU WANT TO GO TO BED?”

Sans nodded, yawning, and his Papyrus nodded along as well, ready to take vigil over his older brother until he could also fall asleep.

Papyrus nodded and took the tablet away before standing up and beginning to clean everything. He could use a little nap himself and Sans was always ready to sleep, but their father would probably take a walk around the ruins and mess around with his machine a little during the night rather than do any actual sleeping.

While the elder Papyrus cleaned, Sans slipped back onto his crutches and made his way to the room. He paused halfway there, glancing back over his shoulder?

“papyrus? you coming?”

Papyrus held up a finger that meant ‘one moment,’ and turned back to watching his double. A moment later, he got up and began helping clean up.

The taller skeleton flashed his double a smile, eager to let him help clean up and giving him small, easy tasks as he went about putting everything in the sink and washing it up, then handing it to be dried over to his small double.

It wouldn’t take long to tidy things at all.

Papyrus began to smile a bit as his elder gave him tasks to complete.

He. He was being useful and doing a good thing without anything bad happening to anyone else.

He could get used to cleaning.

Between the two of them, the kitchen was soon back to its usual state of relative cleanliness, and he felt a bit proud of his hand in it.

He gave his elder a smile before running back to his brother and heading in to bed.

Papyrus watched his smaller self go before settling down on the air mattress beside his brother, taking his tablet and poking away at it to try and get himself in the mindset to take a nap. Despite using magic today it didn’t seem to affect him at all.

Gaster lingered for a bit before signing ‘going for a walk’ to his sons and teleporting out to do just that.

Gaster had long passed out in his corner, fairly content and certain that the kids were safe with their doubles; it gave him some much needed time for relaxation that he hadn’t had for a long time.

Sans and Papyrus climbed into bed together, snuggling up and relaxing; they both fell asleep much more quickly than expected.

All things considered, it had been a good two days.

#mayem #fear and loathing #undertale #RP log #kid #goop #sans #papyrus

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moveslikekeithrichards · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 1 of my thing for brofessor andy (tw there's sui and death and shit)

[put under a cut for length, feedback below] [very awesome tho def worth looking at if ur into spoopy shit]

Same old, same old. I sit down at the desk and get to work, typing up the data collected today. My colleague comes in, “Do you think they’ll ever let us out of here?”

I nearly rip my hair out. “How many times do I have to tell you? Never. They put us in here and they’ll never let us out for fear of spreading the virus.”

“Maybe after the war,” he says, shifting from foot to foot.

“They don’t tell us anything, the war could’ve ended years ago for all we know. And doesn’t it ever bother you?” My words are muffled by the hum of the cleaning robots sliding up the wall, disinfecting as they go. My voice turns to a shout to compensate. “The fact that we’re trapped in here for the rest of our lives. Sometimes the self destruct button is tempting …”

“You’d use the nuclear place to blow us all up? My son and me are here as well. If you want to off yourself, go ahead. But don’t bring me into it.”

“Not a bad idea,” I say, heading to the bathroom.

…

No pills, no rope. Nothing. The building’s too secure, no roof to jump off of. My hand goes to my chin to think, and my stubble triggers an idea. I grab my razor and sit on the edge of the bath tub and close my eyes. I take a deep breath. The scent of disinfectant fills and burns my nostrils. I lift the razor and bring it towards my arm.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

It sounds like bombs are going off all around me, even inside my head. Everything fades to black.

…

My eyes open and the lights are so bright. The walls are practically made of light. Something hard presses into the back of my head. “If you do not cooperate, you will be shot.” A guy in uniform says. I say nothing. “Are you aware of what your research is being used for?”

“No.”

“What were you doing when we bombed the lab?”

“About to kill myself.”

“Why?”

“They don’t tell me anything. They didn’t plan releasing me. I was nothing more than a number in their equations.”

“If you work with us, and give you your research, we can promise you freedom and citizenship here, though you will be a traitor to Russia.”

“Deal.”

I sit behind the counter of my dad’s record store, scrolling through the news on my phone as a record on the counter spins and Tom Petty drones on about free fallin’. Something about a new disease, World War III is still going on, a new Avengers movie is coming out. There’s no customers; there’s usually not at this time so I consider leaving earlier. The bell on the door dings, announcing that I’m trapped here for another hour. The man says he doesn’t need any help and heads up to the record loft. My attention returns to my phone before the bell dings again.

A woman walks in, and her face makes my stomach twist. There’s boils and pieces of missing skin. Her eyes have a glassy look. “Miss, are you okay?” I ask. Her mouth goes through the motions, but no words come out. I begin the chew on the inside of my cheek, a nervous tic I developed as a kid as the woman ascends the stairs. A few minutes pass and I hear a scream. I get up on the counter and slide over and make a beeline for the stairs. I head up, taking two steps at a time. The man is laying on the ground dead, bits of his skin missing. The woman’s face is covered with blood and the skin of the man and she lunges at me. I grab a record off the shelf and start hitting her with it, but it does nothing.

I use the record to shield my skin from her attacks as I walk backwards down the steps. I’m down and I run to the counter. The monster of a woman bumbles and trips her way down the stairs and should take twice as long to get anywhere. I go over to the record player and rip the stick with the needle off and start hitting her with it. She lets out a scream, but it’s muffled and distorted and sounds almost alien. The warmth of adrenaline courses through me as I hit her again and again, somehow being able to avoid her attacks. She falls to the ground after several minutes. I stomp on her head until I’m sure she won’t be a threat anymore. The effects of the adrenaline wore off, and I now realized the fact that I got attacked by a monster. It’s fucking insane.

I exit the store and hop into my car. I drive home much faster than usual. My eyes dart around, looking everywhere to see if there’s any more of those monster things in or beside the road. I’m too busy looking for them that I run a red light. Sighing, I slow down and keep my eyes on the road. They play tricks on me and several times I swear I see something out of the corner of my eye. Finally I arrive home, any later and I’m pretty sure I would have gone crazy. It’s late and everyone else is asleep so I immediately head up to my room. I shut and lock my door. I bulldoze the messy pile of video game and band shirts off my bed and into a laundry basket and crawl under the covers.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Damn. I’m going to die.

I glance at my alarm clock. Midnight, and there’s scratching at my door. The thing that tried to kill me earlier used its nails to attack. And there’s scratching at my door. I’m going to die. Logic tells me I should get up and find some kind of weapon. My instincts have me paralyzed out of fear. Breathe. Gradually I move my arm. Down to the floor. My fingers make contact with the tennis racket under my bed and grasp it, preparing to fight off the intruder.

Meow.

It’s not even an intruder. It’s my dang cat. I get up and open the door and pet him. After this scare, there’s no way I’m getting back to sleep so I get dressed and head downstairs. I did my hair and makeup much fancier than usual, if I’m losing sleep I can at least look good.

About an hour before the bus arrives I sit at the kitchen table eating cereal and watching the news. “Due to an outbreak of a new disease, all schools in the district will remain closed,” So I’m all dolled up for nothing. “Experts say the disease is contained to the state and airports are closing in an effort to keep it that way. It’s recommended you stay indoors and avoid crowded places to protect yourself from the illness. If you develop an itchy red rash, seek medical attention immediately as that’s the first sign of the disease. Now onto the weather.” Somehow the peppy newscaster is able to make even a deadly disease sound alright.

I decide to not waste the day like I normally would. I go over by the front door and grab the leash and harness that are hanging up by my coat. I pick up my tennis racket and some balls and make kissing noises. My cat comes running and I put on his harness. He’s all black and could easily be mistaken for a dog. He’s huge. 30 pounds of cat, no fat. We head out to the backyard and decide to take the leash off. He could get over the fence, but I don’t think he wants to. I ready my racket and pitch a serve to the wall, the ball bounces back and I hit it again. This time I catch it instead of hitting it again because I feel an itch and need to scratch my back. My nails dig into the soft skin of my arm and it feels delightful.

“Hey, Lulu!” someone calls from behind the fence I just served a ball at. It’s my friend, Jakob. He scales over the wall like he’s done many times and his eyes travel up and down my body. “Skank,” he snickers, referring to my short tennis skirt. I roll my eyes and throw a ball at him. “Jesus. I’m not here to look at your ass, I’m here to talk about the fact that there’s a fucking zombie apocalypse happening.”

“No, there’s not. You’re so gullible. It’s just a disease making people crazy or something-” I’m interrupted by a scream.

“Welp, I’m out.” Jakob says before going back into his house.

A waterfall of purple leaves drooping from the willow tree in the yard block view of the neighbor’s yard. There’s nothing on any of the other sides, just forest. I pull back the ropes of leaves to look. My neighbor lies unconscious on the ground. I quickly put Salem back inside and jump the fence. The elderly woman has a huge boil on her face. I nearly throw up. It’s filled with some kind of liquid and I can see something small wiggling inside of it. I forget how to move for a minute, and then my body catches up to my brain and I dial 911. I reach down feel her pulse. She’s dead.

The paramedics come, ask me my name and if I know anything about her. I don’t. They put her into the back of the ambulance, and as the door close I see the boil pop, and she bolts up, her eyes glaze over.

Then, a guy who can’t be much older than me comes up. Despite his young age, he has some kind of uniform decorated with tons of badges. “What do you know about that lady?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Do you know anything about the ‘outbreak’?” The way he says outbreak sends chills up my spine.

“I was in a fight with one of the infected people.”

“Any rashes, itches?” I shake my head no. “Fever?”

“No, I’ve been totally fine.” He grabs my arm and yanks me away.

I slap him. “I don’t care where you’re taking me,but Jakob’s coming.” He’s completely unfazed by the slap and nods his head.

my dude, my bro, this is excellent, i love the way u add detailed description that one can picture easily without running on too long & also how u use subtle things like the narrators possessions to add character. i esp love the bit with the neighbor its such a quick thing but v nasty it sticks with u 10/10

the only thing thats bugging me is the inconsistency with indentation at the beginning of paragraphs/dialogue but idk if thats just something tumblr did? either way very awesome super cool concept u got going here & v easy to read too w/o being overly simple (not that theres anything wrong with simplicity)

#death #unsanitary #??#submission

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thehonorablejudgewhitey · 8 years ago

Text

“With Liberty and Justice for All”

(copious amounts of profanity ahead)

After the initial shock left me numb, then angry, then depressed, the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach took over and, funny enough, for a long time I was pissed off not because of what happened, but because it was allowed to happen. I wasn’t even furious with the key players anymore because they’re...well, real life versions of one dimensional characters, they did what they were supposed to do, what they would always do, what everyone knew for a fact they would do. I was mad at The People. The American People. Not at the - we’ll never really know how many - millions which were racist, misogynist, xenophobic, hateful and downright stupid enough to feel that donald was worth a genuine vote, but at the vast majority whom, between Clinton, 3rd party candidates, write -ins (and assorted silliness) didn’t vote for donald. Why was I so mad at these - mainly sane - folks? Because a majority let itself be ruled by a minority with, until recently, barely a peep in protest. Very few people took the fight as seriously as it needed to be taken and where we are today is a result of that.

Had this been a normal, fair election...it would be one thing, but it’s been clear since the start that things were far from an even remotely legitimate deal. The U.S. had bad Presidents before, it also had dumbass Presidents before, look at Bush Jr. who was as sharp as that kid in your nephew’s class who eats all the crayons; Jr., funny enough, found himself down in votes as well, but still “won”. However, and despite that - let’s call it - coincidental similarity, donald is frighteningly different from W. He’s not only ignorant and illiterate, he’s something Bush wasn’t: a vicious sociopath. donald isn’t just unbelievably stupid (and so very proud of his stupidity), he’s not just a loud clown, he is a fucking deranged monster and if you think I’m exaggerating, you haven’t researched him thoroughly enough because his track record will scare the shit out of anyone. The dude truly is criminally insane.

Now, donald supporters will argue till they’re blue in the face that non donald voters are sore losers, “libtards”, “snowflakes” and whatever else colorful little adjectives the not too bright amuse themselves with in order to have something with which to (try to) annoy others and thus, not having to confront their own stupidity. However, recently we’ve learned that not only has the corruption and treason which lead us to this situation been reliably and extensively documented, but also that American intelligence agencies had the information for months...and sat on it. The connections between donald’s minions and the shadiest shit imaginable has been established, foreign intelligence services have been frantically waving their arms in the air, begging US intelligence to, for fuck’s sake, look at their findings regarding very blatant treason...and yet, YET...here we are. Now the public knows all about it and the backlash has been until recently, pretty damn weak. Thankfully the public’s fighting morale picked up in a big way with the women's march, but it’s still a long way from effective. Plus the march was very rightfully so focused on specific topics, but what’s needed is an all out blitz of opposition and protest. For every - single - thing.

A lot contributed to donald’s - LOL - “victory”:

1) partisanship within the agencies (here’s looking at you, Comey)

2) the Russian meddling (through blackmail, money, influence, disinformation, paid trolls, and other endless etc’s)

3) vote tampering (took a shitload of lawyers and some serious bribe showers to keep that one on the low...seriously, look into it and your jaw will drop like an anvil on a road runner cartoon...but apparently, we’ll just ignore outright mathematical impossibilities and documented bribery because that’s the world we live in now)

4) voter suppression, critical in areas with large black communities because the overwhelming majority of black voters weren’t here for this fuckery - especially women, go Ladies, making us proud as always!

5) useless 3rd party voting despite the many, maaaaaaaany warnings not to engage in it because it was so DAMN clear what was gonna go down and people still did it cause stupid reasons no one cares about; how are you enjoying that skinny ass high horse now, fuckers???

6) the utterly shitty job by American news organizations who sucked donald’s lil dick dry for months in the name of ratings and which now are shocked, shocked I tell you!!! that the motherfucker turned on them...who could have possibly seen that one coming,unbelievable!!! And still, STILL they haven’t learned from it, they’re still airing donald’s mental diarrhea verbatim all - the - time, calling racist and xenophobic shit “controversial” and having lap dogs like Crack Barbie Conway talking about goddamn “alternative facts” on national television with a straight face!

7) the impotent and pathetic opposition put up by democrats, I mean seriously folks...some democrats voted in favor of donald’s cabinet members; have you learned nothing from 8 years of republican fuckery? Oppose ALL the things! If it wasn’t for Maxine Waters “fuck you AND this shit” attitude, Tim Kaine’s “I just think it’s funny how...” brand of shade and a few other good folks in there, we could just throw the whole damn party in the trash

8) republicans having been WHIPPED by donald’s cheap reality star popularity which was - sadly - more than enough to outshine the zodiac killer and whoever else they had lying around. Republicans had to drop to their knees for donald and, in exchange, they can pull off a U.S. fire sale like they’ve been aiming for for 8 years now. Make no mistake, there isn’t a terrorist organization in the world which can hold a candle to the American republican party, their business is death and destruction for profit and they excel at it

9) the “slow moving right wing coup” (Maher called it, just before the election), the almost decade long crusade of misinformation and public manipulation through garbage like fox news and breibart through puppets like hannity and kelly. donald’s fake shot at the Presidency would have been impossible without the massive groundwork that came long before he was even considered to be viable enough for this

10) the fact that a lot of folks adored donald’s catchy tune of hate and racism. trump voters didn’t vote for him despite this, they voted because his message was music to their ears. How an uncharismatic, orange, shar-pei looking motherfucker managed to establish a cult of personality would actually be impressive if it wasn’t terrifying.There’s no real “economic angst”, there was no “reaction against the status quo”, nobody wanted to drain no damn “swamp”, the “he tells it like it is” excuse is just that...everything which was used to justify donald’s popularity is utter BULLSHIT. donald got votes because a black Man was President, because women had valid sexual and reproductive health rights, because the LGBT community got basic rights recognized, because Islamophobia is a reality, because black folks were asking not to get killed for sitting and reading a book, or ringing a doorbell asking for help, or buying skittles

and of course, 11) the fact that trump made it totally cool to just go right for any pussy you fancy at any time, i.e. normalized sexual assault. If that doesn’t scream about the rampant engulfment of society in rape culture, I don’t know what does.

Yes, a lot helped donald get to where he is today, but the problem isn’t that this stuff happened, it’s that it was allowed to happen, the beginning of the shitstorm. It’s not like the asshole totally changed his tune overnight; everyone knew he was a risk and still, it was constantly underestimated. Just a few days ago the U.S. was forced to go with a 100% illegitimate President, one planted by a foreign power, under blackmail from that same power, with an estimated 1.5 billion (that’s billion with a B) dollars in debt, making him one of the brokest motherfuckers in the world (and oh boy, is he robbing the Presidency blind already...between selling access to himself and facilitating businesses abroad...), supported by the terrorist hate group formally known as kkk and every filthy, inferior white supremacist around, with a cabinet filled with incompetent, batshit insane, corrupt picks who’ll be responsible for everything from your tax dollars to nuclear weapons - fucking TERRIFYING - and who’s sole job is to burn it to the motherfucking ground and piss on the ash and oh yeah, let’s not ever stop talking about donald’s sex abuse history which includes confessed predatory behavior, strolling through teens changing rooms and rape accusations from minors to his ex wife. You really can’t expect much from a guy who once said “Is it wrong to be more sexually attracted to your own daughter than your wife?”; she was 13 at the time.

So while the rest of the world had been pulling its hair and collectively asking: “What, in the absolute name of FUCK is going on and why is it allowed to continue!?”, most people had been showing indignation...on Twitter, being extremely angry...at home. It took some pretty dark reality checks to shake folks up. The thought of 22 (now some sources say 30+) million Americans losing healthcare brought a few thousand people out, just a few thousands out of 71 million who voted for a different candidate. For months now I and many others have been begging anyone who’ll listen to go out, go beyond the fallacy of sticking solely to hashtag activism and actually act! Before the women’s march injected some much needed life into people, I was met with everything from sheer indifference to a sense of total hopelessness (useless sentiment), but the worst thing so far, the one that really angered me to the fucking core, was the sickeningly common sentence “we can’t do anything about it”. Buying into the fact that you’re powerless, failing to understand that people run the government and not the other way around is the most successful form of oppression ever deployed and let me tell you, there’s nowhere else on earth where it has been applied more successfully than in the US. Politicians running wild knowing there’s 0 accountability for their actions is what motivated the batshit insane last few weeks in which republicans have released a kind of greatest hits of nefarious fuckery which include the sentencing of millions to death or bankruptcy (or both) without health insurance, getting rid of what little oversight they have (though that was over with? Check again...), and paying the bill for donald’s dumbass wall which may be the most ridiculous, useless thing ever made...this kind of distancing between politicians an accountability is why crisis like Flint drag out for years with no resolution - or even interest for a resolution.

It really is a damn tragedy the situation has been allowed to run out of control, so now it’s time to get a handle on the lunacy. Before American women (actually, women everywhere) brought it, a few weeks back, LA and NY showed up early with marches of about 10 thousand people each, the most meaningful actions pre-post-inauguration; some folks burned a couple of trash cans in Portland (and conservatives have been crying out that “the cities are burning!!!” ever since, failing to mention, of course, that rioters are mainly paid elements to create this kind of disruption so people like donald can bitch about it later; see also Washington DC a few days ago) and that’s about it really...So what have we learned? Massive protests, shutting down streets, cities...it’s the only way to go. There needs to be a continuity to the kind of spirit which propelled the women's match. Politicians will never admit it, but they’re terrified of people in large numbers, they may despise voters but they also need them. So this “inauguration”, these disastrous first days, a ridiculous circus which would have been deemed too stupid to be featured in the cheapest of French farces can either mark the end of The American People’s chance to act or the start of a proper, comprehensive uprising. If you were waiting for the inauguration to then push for an impeachment...that won’t fly here, it’s too late for any of the regular democratic processes. Election was illegitimate, electoral college voted illegitimately...relying on this kind of stuff is dead and buried. Keep hearing folks talk about 2020, elections...bless their hearts...even if by some miracle we reach that date, do y'all really think there will ever, EVER be anything remotely close to a free election ever again? With these corrupt fucks in power? Nah, that ship has sailed. donald getting “elected” was what’s called a proof of concept and now, like a cancer, his so called administration will infect every nook and cranny of government, making it impossible to remove. Best case scenario, some key players get kicked out and there’s a chance to start repairing the damage, but the root is firmly planted and there will be massive problems for many years to come because donald and his posse got this far. Plus, external influence is and will continue to be massively powerful; Russia has republicans tightly grabbed by the balls which means all their decisions aren't really their own and that the US is now a satellite state. Cold War era communists would piss themselves in excitement like puppies if they had ever even dared to dream that such a thing could be possible. And the kicker is, the U.S. wasn’t even the main act, it was just a beta test. France and Germany are coming up next, efforts to end NATO and the EU are well on their way and in Europe, stupid people are falling for the same kind of “populism” (aka very poorly disguised racism and xenophobia and other assorted far right ideological diarrhea) that stupid people in America fell for when sprayed by golden boy himself. My faint hope is that a large enough number of Europeans will wake up in time. So far I remain disappointed. Twice now in fairly recent times Europe fucked itself up; soon it will be on its way to a third go. “Those who don’t understand history...” etc.

So here we are, 2017 and worried about world wars, nuclear wars, a Russian empire, nazis and the end of democracy. Ain't that a bitch? The real kicker tho, the part that made me so very pissed off at the reasonable, logic people out there is that the whole thing was so, so, SO very fucking avoidable...we got complacent and lost focus on how vicious the fight was and how vicious we had to be to win it. I love FLOTUS44 to no end but the motto should have been “when they go low, we get a motherfucking club and crack their head open cause they’re already in a convenient position to get bashed and we gotta take these fuckers out, pronto” - not as catchy, but it was the right attitude. To show just how soft and out of touch people have become, this week there’s been a debate about if punching a nazi is wrong. I shit you not! “If” it’s wrong...smh. And even if throwing hands isn’t your thing, all anyone ever really had to do was show up. Right at the start, show up, provide the numbers for “strength in numbers”, be a body in a crowd. Wasn’t hard, wasn’t costly, didn’t need a great deal of planning...call up a couple of friends who in turn call up 2 or 3 more and just...showing up and demanding the most basic legitimacy needed for an election, demanding that a line was drawn between free speech and hate speech, demanding that something as vile as donald and pence and bannon and kushner and flynn and every other piece of shit in the gang wasn’t allowed anywhere near a Presidential election. People knew what was at stake, people saw the democratic processes fail.

Like I said, the key players are predictable, they don’t break character; you know for a fact what they’ll do: donald will always be a sociopathic old perv and act like such; republicans will always be money hungry, moralless whores (and I use that word for the actions themselves, I mean no disrespect to hardworking, honest prostitutes who don’t deserve to be compared to something as disgusting as republicans); white supremacists will always be inferior whiny bitches; and the people who support all these aberrations will always be too fundamentally dense, too goddamn stupid to understand the seven ways till Sunday in which they’re getting fucked while cheering for the ones pounding their ass. But the people who know better, the people who’ve seen this ridiculous charade since the start for what it is and got lost in pointless shit like in house fighting (who had the best candidate cause of reasons) or simply didn’t lift a finger in any serious and meaningful way to try and stop it...they’re ones responsible for the mess being in play. It’s pretty simple: you see a toddler with a gun, you don’t wait till it shoots itself in the damn face, you take the gun away.

So where will we be a little while from now if things don’t change dramatically? Well let me put on my Carnac The Magnificent hat on (a lil something for the kids to Google, take their mind of this whole “we’re all probably gonna die horrible deaths” dealio): Our buddy Vladimir, finding out this shit actually works (whaaaaaat? Long shot win!), will try and succeed with the same model in other countries, Europe will be at war again, a short one because Russia will steamroll resistance as it takes over.NOT looking forward to that. The US will be carved like a thanksgiving turkey; first, the complete demolition of the Obama legacy because, you know, memories of a black Man in office for 8 years won’t do, gotta bulldoze that shit like, yesterday! Remind “the blacks” (as donald says) of their place, make aberrations of the LGBTs again, and fuck this environment shit cause who needs clean air and water when there’s fucking oil to drill, goddamn it!!! However, it won’t be just a gutting of government and liberties and rights, but also of territory. California will be the first to exit, also with - very indirect and covert - Russian backing, NY will follow. Texas will probably join in cause...well, it’s Texas, it’s just itching to shoot at something. The rest of the territory will be as miserable as any third world country. Sadly I won’t get the pleasure of shouting “MAGA!” and laughing my ass off in the face of every single Trump voter while they starve or die from most banal diseases in the book. A true shame. Russia will continue to fund terrorism like it does with ISIS, as well as planning/carrying out terrorist attacks whenever it suits their strategic interests (see Berlin, last Christmas), with donald being ISIS’ greatest poster child for recruitment while his buildings will make for great targets. Convenience! Oh and let’s not forget that in a pre-butchered US, Republicans will still need a war, so expect one. Republicans will also need 9/11 levels of terror, so expect a 2.0 version of that as well.

All of this of course if donald’s alarming mental decay doesn’t throw a wild card in the mix and he just decides: “fuck it, I’ll nuke everything” cause someone sent him a mean tweet. #Sad. And even if by some other wild card donald were to get impeach over prostitutes pissing on him or whatever the fuck else the shithead got recorded doing, the problem would still be the same: compromised government, completely invalid election, proven concept for aspiring global dictator, and resounding triumph of white Amerikkka’s “values”. The only way to do something which means a damn is to go out in force, quickly.

In a week marked by reporters get yelled at, at the White House, over crowd size “alternative facts”, a week in which we find donald had the inauguration pictures photoshoped to make his hands look bigger (what a fucking LOSER. That dick must really be in the micro category, I swear), a week in which the president elect goes nuts with executive orders to, out of pure spite, demolish the Obama legacy (donald is so insanely jealous of 44 that it clouds whatever shred of reason that pea brain of his can still muster) while simultaneously rambling about a blatant lie of millions of illegals voting while people in his goddamn entourage are actually guilty of voter fraud, a miserable week which saw government put a gag order on agencies divulging scientific facts, making them create “rogue” twitter accounts, an alarming week with revelations that staff and golden showers himself use all kinds of unprotected email services, the same thing which haunted Clinton forever without a shred of substance to it and that now, apparently, is totally cool, a sad week in which the megalomaniac embarrassment moved forward with orders to keep women in children stranded in war zones...is a week in which everyone should be planning exactly how seriously they want to contribute to the containment of this situation. personally, I suggest very and as soon as possible.

[This take on things is my own. Will not try to impose it nor debate it]

#the resistance #impeach trump #dump trump #illegitimate #illegitimate POTUS #PEEOTUS #ban trump #resist #resistence #Fuck Donald Trump #dumptrump #impeachtrump

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